by Mila Gray
‘Yeah, I told her I wasn’t interested, that things were over, and then you walked in.’
‘Oh,’ I manage to say. ‘It just . . . it looked . . .’
‘I know how it looked. I tried to explain. You didn’t want to hear. And I don’t blame you,’ he adds quickly.
‘But you left,’ I say quietly. ‘You went with her.’
‘I was discharged. I was a mess. Dodds, the whole thing with you, knowing I’d screwed up your life. I tried calling you, but you wouldn’t answer. I left messages and you didn’t respond.’
‘I lost my phone,’ I say.
He looks surprised.
‘And I left a note with José. Or rather, I left it at the desk for him, but I guess . . . maybe he never got it?’ He frowns. ‘I thought that if you wanted to call me, you would call me. But you didn’t. I was going to try again a few weeks ago . . . but then I found out you were dating that Zac guy.’
Oh my God. The cogs turn. This whole thing has been one big chain of miscommunication from end to end.
‘So . . . then . . .’ I can’t stop hope flaring hot in my chest.
Walker takes a step closer. I stop breathing.
‘Didi,’ he says, and the way he says it is a caress, a whisper of fingers across my skin. My stomach flutters in response. His eyes flit over my face, taking me in, and though his jaw is still pulsing, I see the storm front in his eyes lift a little. But then he shakes his head, softly and a little sadly. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I can’t give you what you want.’
The hope fizzles out, my stomach turns to lead. ‘What are you talking about? What do you mean?’
‘The love you want,’ he answers simply.
I draw in a breath that feels like a punch to the solar plexus. What’s he saying? I don’t understand. He doesn’t love me. Didn’t love me? Ever?
‘I—’
‘Didi!’
I turn around in a daze. My parents are right behind me, looking at me with expressions of ecstatic surprise on their faces.
‘Hi,’ I stammer.
‘What are you . . . ?’ my mom asks.
I turn back around, my head spinning, but Walker is gone, heading through the crowd towards the back of the gallery. My shoulders slump.
‘Didi?’ my mom says. She pulls me around, and the next thing I know I’m in her arms and she’s hugging me and I cling to her, having to suppress a sob, and I register my dad has his arm around my shoulder too and that we’re blocking the doorway, and then I remember why I’m not talking to my parents and reel backwards out of my mom’s arms.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asks. ‘Oh, it’s so good to see you. Are you OK? Are you doing OK? We’ve been so worried.’
‘We wanted to respect your need for space,’ my dad explains, ‘but you could have called and let us know you were coming to Miami. We could have caught the same flight.’
I look at my mom. They came together? Has she told my dad? Does he know about José?
‘He knows,’ my mom says as though she’s read my mind. ‘He’s always known. That’s what I was trying to tell you. I guess you haven’t been listening to your messages?’
I look at my dad. He gives me a tight smile and a tense shrug. I look back at my mom. ‘I don’t get it.’
My mom bites her bottom lip. ‘Shall we move inside and get a drink, find somewhere to talk?’
I look between her and my dad. My dad smiles at me, puts his hand on my shoulder and starts steering me to the bar. ‘Come on,’ he says.
‘We all make mistakes,’ my dad says five minutes later when, wine glasses in hand, we stand in a quietish corner. ‘It’s how you learn from them that matters. You never burned down a kitchen again, did you?’
‘You’ve forgiven her?’ I ask him in amazement, ignoring his reference to my childhood arson and glancing at my mom, who frowns at me.
‘We were on a break, Didi.’
‘A break?’
‘Yes. We’d decided we needed some time apart to assess how we felt about each other.’
‘And?’ I ask.
‘And after some reflection, we’ve decided we want to stay married and work our issues out.’
‘But . . . but . . .’ I shake my head. I can’t comprehend what she’s saying. ‘What do you mean issues?’
My mother smiles again. ‘A lot of relationships flounder when the kids go off to college. It’s normal. Your father and I were going through a bad patch.’
‘A bad patch?’ I ask, still stunned.
‘Yes, a bad patch. We do have them. All couples do.’
‘No,’ I say, shaking my head angrily. ‘You two don’t. This whole time I’ve been thinking you have a perfect relationship . . .’ They can’t possibly know what this means to me. It’s like discovering that I’m the daughter of the Goblin King or that I’ve been living in The Truman Show. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because they were our problems to sort out,’ my mom explains, stroking my cheek. ‘And we didn’t want to involve you.’
‘It was a stupid thing to do,’ my father cuts in. ‘We see that now. We should have been open and honest with you. We just didn’t want you to be anxious or upset.’
I shake my head. I can’t believe they lied to me about something so huge. ‘You’re therapists! You should know how to parent better,’ I hiss.
My mom nods. ‘I’m a sex therapist, not a parenting expert, but yes, you’re right. We made a mistake. I’m sorry.’
‘So you still love each other?’ I ask sceptically.
‘Yes, of course we love each other,’ my dad explains. ‘We just have some work to do. All relationships take work. The biggest lie is thinking that they don’t.’
My mom takes my dad’s hand and squeezes it and they look at each other all dewy-eyed, and for a moment I’m fifteen again wanting to make hurling noises, but I can’t because my heart is too heavy in my chest. There’s no room for laughter.
‘And what about you?’ my mom asks, nodding her head over my shoulder at Walker. ‘Did you two sort things out? Aren’t you dating Zac now?’
‘I . . .’ I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes.
‘For what it’s worth,’ my dad says with a slight wince, ‘though I may have seen a little more of Walker than I’d ever have wanted to, I like him. You two obviously have a connection.’
‘Obviously not, actually,’ I answer.
I blink furiously to stop the tears from coming. I don’t want to cry here and I don’t want to have to explain to my parents what’s just happened, because then I really will cry and I might not be able to stop. I’ll save it until we’re back at the hotel. I’m hoping I can crash their room, because I never booked one. I had a fantasy that I’d get here and Walker would sweep me into his arms and carry me off to the boat he named after me. Hah. How stupid am I?
‘Um,’ I say. ‘I just need to go to the bathroom.’ I’ll lock myself in a stall until I calm down or until everyone has left. Everyone being Walker. It’s the only way through this.
My mom tilts her head at me. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’
‘No, it’s OK,’ I tell her.
She nods, clearly not buying my attempt at a smile. ‘OK,’ she says, ‘we’ll take a look at the art while you’re gone. I quite like that one over there.’ She points at the exploding love heart. I recognize it from my date with Walker. If only I’d known it was prophetic back then.
I stumble towards the bathroom sign, head down, trying to bash my way through a sea of pointed elbows and ear-splitting art speak. I don’t notice him until he’s standing right in front of me and I almost crash into him.
I look up. Walker’s scowling down at me. ‘I didn’t get to finish,’ he tells me, blocking my path with his body.
I shake my head at him. I don’t want to hear any more. I need to get into the bathroom and lock myself in a stall. I can’t bear being this near to him.
‘I can’t give you the kind of love you want,’ he goes on.
Yeah, I got that the first time, my expression tells him. I try to step around him.
‘You want a lobster. You want guarantees,’ he goes on, sidestepping me and blocking my path again. ‘You want a fairy tale.’
I stare at him, breathing hard, angry now.
‘And fairy tales don’t exist,’ he tells me, shaking his head sadly.
Have he and Sanchez been exchanging philosophies on love?
Walker takes a step closer, and the static charge between us roars to life. His hand brushes the back of mine, taking me by surprise, muting my anger.
‘But this does,’ he says in a low voice that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. He gestures at the inch of space separating us. ‘What’s between us . . . this exists. It’s real. It’s not always perfect, and I can’t promise you it won’t sometimes go wrong, like it just did, or that we’ll last forever. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to plan for the future, and I know you want that. I’ve seen too much, witnessed too much, to be able to put stock in the future any more. But what I can promise you is that every single moment of the present I’ll be with you. And I know this – that what we have means something. It’s significant. It’s not “I can’t live without you” love. It’s “I don’t want to live without you” love.’
I can’t stop myself. The tears start to fall.
Seeing me cry, Walker’s face falls. His hand comes up. He brushes away a tear with his thumb.
‘Didi,’ he murmurs, his voice as gentle as his touch. ‘Just because the fairy tale doesn’t exist doesn’t mean the happily-ever-after doesn’t either.’
I stare into his eyes and see the softening in them, the dark clouds parting.
‘I see you,’ he tells me, his hands already holding my face, his thumbs stroking my jaw. He takes his time, his eyes locked on mine, until the very last moment before he kisses me.
I don’t hear the clapping at first because I’ve fallen so hard into that kiss that my body is reacting like a power station being switched on for the first time. Walker pulls away first, and that’s when I hear it. I open my eyes and turn around and find the whole gallery has formed a circle around us and is clapping and whooping, led of course by Sanchez and Valentina, who’s wiping away tears.
‘So romantic,’ she mouths at me, clutching a hand to her heart.
I grin at them, and see my parents with their arms wrapped around each other laughing too. And then I see Isaac, smiling grimly, walk over to Sanchez while checking his wristwatch.
‘Pay up!’ Sanchez hollers, slapping Isaac on the back.
Walker puts his arm around my shoulders and laughs, a belly laugh, a new laugh I’ve never heard from him before.
Isaac shakes his head, still smiling, and takes a thick wedge of cash out of his wallet while Valentina looks on disapprovingly. He hands it to Sanchez, who waves it in our direction, grinning like a clown on crack.
‘What was the bet?’ Walker calls.
‘That you two would get it on before midnight. Isaac here thought it might take a couple of days. But I know what a charmer you are underneath all that manly gruffness.’
I look at the clock. It’s two minutes to midnight.
‘You better kiss her quick before she turns into a pumpkin,’ Sanchez jokes.
Walker turns to me. ‘I better had,’ he says.
Acknowledgements
Catherine, Venetia and Eloise at Pan Macmillan. And Naomi Clark for designing the cover.
Juliet Van Oss for copy-editing, and Lorraine Green for proofreading.
Amanda, my agent, for the coffees, lunches, notes and brilliantly endless support. You are the best!
My family for taking on the heroic task of childcare so I could skip off to Goa and write this on the beach. I don’t know what I would do without you!
Becky Wicks, writing lobster, brilliant friend and superstar ally.
John for always believing in a posse ad esse.
Praise for Come Back to Me
‘A captivating, heartfelt and sexy romance about the power of a love that won’t let go’
Liz Bankes, author of Irresistible
‘A perfect, heart-wrenching love story’
Weaving Pages
‘The sexiest, most romantic book I’ve ever read . . . I couldn’t put it down’
Becky Wicks, author of Before He Was Famous
‘With the cover and story reminding me of the likes of Nicholas Sparks (if you are a fan of him you will definitely love this book too), I think the author has done an excellent job with her storytelling, characters, and most importantly, with the powerful, raw emotions that came with those certain characters’
TalesoftheInnerBookFanatic.blogspot.co.uk
‘I can’t tell you how excited I was to read it, I had high expectations for the story and she utterly smashed them. Just reading the prologue gave me goosebumps and put a knot of fear in my stomach . . . Come Back to Me is intense, passionate, romantic and totally swoon worthy. It made me laugh one minute and sob my heart out the next, broke my heart but helped put it back together again . . . Mila Gray captures the intensity of first relationships, that feeling of being head over heels “I can’t live without you” in love . . . This isn’t just a romance though, it’s also a story about family and friendship, about loss and grief but also about finding hope in the darkest times and realizing that no matter how hard it gets life goes on’
FeelingFictional.com
‘A relaxing, easy, entertaining love story between two characters who are figuring out their lives both together and apart. If you’re in the mood for first loves with a hero who can melt your heart and a heroine enamoured by him this book will definitely work for you’
SheReadsNewAdult.com
‘Wow, I absolutely loved it. It’s an intense, sweepingly romantic story with compelling individuals who flourish together . . . I cried whilst reading it on the train. I cried on a packed train, and I didn’t care because I was so entranced. Unmissable’
NavigatorNic.co.uk
‘It’s steamy, and heart-fluttering, and everything a good new adult novel should be. Kit and Jessa’s relationship jumped off of the very first page . . . I’m a sucker for forbidden love, and this one reeled me in without any hope of my getting away. I adored the characters and the journey they each took throughout this book . . . it really was a great, great read’
VictoriaApresMinuit.blogspot.co.uk
‘I started reading it on the plane and was totally engrossed in it, the flight literally flew by. Even from the first chapter I was hooked and needed to keep reading it . . . The storyline kept me on the edge of my sunbed, waiting to find out what happened. I loved it . . . Jessa and Kit are fantastic characters who will keep you coming back for more. I actually sat by the pool and cried, thank goodness for the sunglasses!!’
AlwaysBeAFriend.com
‘I love the characters in this book and find them to be some of the most believable people that I’ve ever read about. The relationship between Kit and Jessa is really admirable and just made me feel all fangirly (there were quite a few fangirl squeals). It also made me tear up on a few occasions which shows how invested I was in the story. This book was just PERFECTION and I cannot recommend it enough!’
TheBookishReviews.wordpress.com
‘I was hooked instantly and found myself emotionally invested in the book from the get go . . . A forbidden romance, a series of firsts, a friendship that turns into a passionate love between the both of them . . . loved this story so much that I read it all in 3 hours, I literally couldn’t put it down. It is packed full of raw emotion, extremely intense . . . This book is breathtakingly good. I think Kit Ryan might just be my new favourite book boyfriend’
MamaMummyMum.co.uk
‘The day I decided to wear mascara just had to be the day I read Come Back to Me, didn’t it?’
@booksareadrug
THIS IS ONE MOMENT
Mila Gray is the pen name for young adult a
uthor and screenwriter Sarah Alderson.
Sarah is the author of the young adult novels Hunting Lila (winner of the Kingston Book Award), Losing Lila, Fated, The Sound, Out of Control and Conspiracy Girl.
Having spent most of her life in London, Sarah quit her job in the non-profit sector in 2009 and took off on a round-the-world trip with her husband and daughter on a mission to find a new place to call home (a journey that was documented on her blog ‘Can We Live Here?’ and which is shortly to be turned into a book).
After almost a year spent travelling the world, they settled in Bali where they lived for five beautiful years before the vagabonding urge became too great and they decided to embark on ‘Can We Live Here?’ part two. They are currently located somewhere between India, the UK, Canada and the US.
Her first adult novel, Come Back to Me, was published in June 2014.
For news on giveaways, books and signings, visit Mila’s website: milagray.com
To read her blog, visit: canwelivehere.com
Follow her on Twitter @milagraybooks and on Instagram @sarahaldersonauthor
Also by Mila Gray
Come Back to Me
First published 2015 by Pan Books
This electronic edition published 2015 by Pan Books
an imprint of Pan Macmillan
20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com
ISBN 978-1-4472-9521-1
Copyright © Mila Gray 2015
Cover Image © Beth Studenberg / thelicensingproject.comSky and beach © Shutterstock
The right of Mila Gray to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Pan Macmillan does not have any control over, or any responsibility for, any author or third party websites referred to in or on this book.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
