reaction, wanting to convey the depth of her feelings for him. He closed his eyes, giving in to her caress and everything it meant.
‘I love you, Guy. I never stopped loving you,’ she blurted out. She was admitting that to him and to herself for the very first time. Yes, he had hurt her, torn her heart in two. But even while broken, her heart hadn’t let her forget. She’d tried to hide her feelings away like the special items in the box under the stairs, but love didn’t always let you put a lid on it.
He kissed her then, furiously, desperately. She felt his eagerness to share the closeness, how keen he was to express everything he felt. She wrapped her arms around him, tracing her hands along the contours of his back. She longed to touch his skin, remember the velvety smooth texture.
He broke away, holding her face in his hands.
‘Come away with me.’
‘What?’
‘Come to France with me. I have a game, an international game next weekend. It’s one match. We have the rest of the time together,’ he elaborated.
‘Guy, I can’t. I have Dominic and there’s Chris and…’
She needed excuses. She needed hundreds of them because her heart was in danger of skipping out of her chest just from the idea of it.
‘We can stay at my house. We can take the train,’ he continued, gesturing, animated.
‘I can’t,’ she said again, ignoring all the things her body was telling her.
‘We can be together there. Like before.’ He kissed her lips, pressing her mouth with desire.
‘I have to go,’ she said, looking at her watch.
‘Back to him,’ Guy said harshly.
‘That’s not fair,’ Emma responded.
‘This is not fair. We are meant to be together. You know that. I know that – we’ve always known that.’.
She was crying again. These days it wasn’t taking much. She needed to be strong. She could be strong. She’d done it before and survived and survival was what mattered.
‘I have to go,’ she repeated with a little more force. She let go of his hand, moved to the door and taking one last look at him she left.
*
As the door closed he broke. He felt as if his world was collapsing. It had come crashing down a long time ago but he had picked himself up so well and held it together so competently that no one would know he was constantly fighting an internal battle. Now he was going through it all again. He drew his arms into his chest and wrapped himself up as he sobbed. The pain in his head from the blow of the Irwell defender was nothing compared to the savagery going on inside. He was not good enough for her. He had never been good enough for her. He was a bad, dark person.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
‘He’s eaten at least two rounds of sandwiches and he sprayed the goalie with pastry from a sausage roll when he congratulated him on the penalty save,’ Chris informed.
Emma nodded although she hadn’t really heard what he’d said. She was watching Dominic and, periodically, the door to the function room they were now in. The players and officials were filtering in, all showered and changed into smart casual clothes befitting of a window of H&M.
‘He’s having a blast, isn’t he? He’s spoken to the youth manager already. I said I’d take him for a try out,’ Chris continued, following Emma’s gaze.
She didn’t respond.
‘Is everything alright?’ Chris asked.
She turned to face him. He was giving her the full concerned face, complete with soulful eyes. He’d looked that way when he’d ask her out the first time.
‘I’m fine.’ That was becoming her stock answer for everything lately.
‘Want some nosh? There’s salmon on those cracker things.’
‘No thanks.’
‘How about a drink then? Wine?’ Chris offered.
‘Wine. Yes, red. A glass of red would be nice,’ Emma decided. She needed something, if only to keep her hands busy.
‘Coming right up,’ Chris said, getting out of his seat. He headed to the bar and she couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Just having him here felt stifling. There was just too much going on. And the longer the situation continued the more she felt like her whole world was going to cave in.
The door swung open and there he was. His hair damp from the shower and flicked across his forehead, he was dressed in dark trousers and a pale blue shirt. He was showing no signs of having been unconscious just a short time ago. He just looked