After the End

by Natasha Preston

“My mum asked if you’d come over for breakfast this week. I think she misses seeing me for breakfast. Dad doesn’t eat pancakes, and it’s her favourite thing to make. Mostly because it’s the only thing she can make that doesn’t taste like it’s days old.”

  “She’s still no better then.”

  Every time I hung out with Robbie, we would only eat dinner there if Dan was cooking or if they were getting takeaway. Emma is a terrible cook and openly admits it.

  “Nope. She still tries about every six months to make something. Those nights always end up being pizza nights.”

  “Some of my best memories are pizza nights at yours.”

  “With Robbie challenging everyone to racing games on the PlayStation and blaming the controller when he lost.”

  I laugh as I recall the deep shade of red his face would turn. “That damn sticking button.”

  “My poor Jenson Button reject of a brother. You know, I think Robbie really believed he could be a racing driver. He would always tell me how I was driving wrong and which line to take around a bend. Like I’m just going to follow the road, Rob.”

  I clamp my hand around her wrist and pull her against my body. “I miss that idiot.”

  Sighing, she lays her head against my chest, winding both arms around my back so tight, as if she’s afraid I’ll disappear. “I know. I wish he could be here. He would have been happy about us, wouldn’t he?”

  We’ve had this conversation, but given the fact that anything to do with Robbie has her second-guessing everything, it doesn’t surprise me that she needs reassurance. I’ll tell her a million times over until any anxiety she has over it is gone.

  “Yes,” I reply, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

  She looks up, and her expression is full of hope and promise.

  “Let’s go wherever you’re taking me then.”

  I grab my keys and phone while Tilly gets her bag and checks her makeup in the mirror. I watch her fluff her hair with amusement. She doesn’t see herself how I see her.

  “Ready?” I ask when she turns away from her reflection.

  “I am.”

  We lock my front door and head to my car. I’m about three days behind on the house again, but there is no immediate rush anymore. We need to sell soon, as my folks are paying a mortgage every month, but Tilly doesn’t need me to get out as soon as possible.

  I’ll pay the damn mortgage myself if I have to. I’m not giving up this time with her now for anything. I want to take her out and be a normal couple rather than spending almost all day, every day, renovating.

  She walks ahead, a slight bounce in her step and shoulders relaxed. Across the street, one of our neighbours, Mr. Jones, watches us with a wrinkled scowl. He’s old school, and he hates anyone young. He hated us as teens, and he really hates me now. Mr. Jones was one of the people who shouted abuse at Stanley when he got away with not doing any prison time.

  I don’t know if Tilly has stopped caring about other people or if she hasn’t noticed him, too caught up in our bubble. She gets in my car and waits for me.

  Mr. Jones continues to stare, his aging frame arched forward like he’s losing the battle with gravity.

  I raise my hand in a short wave, and that really has him spitting feathers. His mouth moves with a mumbled rambling that only he can hear, and he turns around, retreating back into his house.

  Miserable old fucker.

  I get into the car and start the engine. Tilly is texting.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Uh-huh. Just telling my parents where I am.”

  “Tilly, your house is right there,” I say, pointing to the building meters away.

  She shrugs one arm and presses Send on the message. “I don’t want to stop. I’m excited.”

  “You don’t even know where we’re going.”

  “No, but I know you.”

  For someone with the ability to bring me to my knees, she sure as hell can lift me far.

  “You don’t know how much that means to me, Tilly.”

  Her smile widens. “I love you, Linc.”

  Those four words rolling from her lips steal my breath every time. I almost need a warning before she’s about to say them.

  “I love you, too,” I tell her.

  We arrive forty minutes later at Ted’s independent cinema that has only two screens, and each of those only seats about fifty people. How they’ve stayed afloat with the opening of massive chain cinemas is a miracle. But it’s probably because you’re allowed to bring your own food and drink, and no one checks if that drink is alcohol.

  The cinema has theme days, and this week is all about horror.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “What do you think we’ll be doing at a cinema?”

  She tilts her head, giving me a pointed look. “Horror week is back?”

  I nod. “They’re playing Halloween movies all day today. Tomorrow is all about Friday the 13th. I’ve not checked the rest of the week, but we can come around your shifts at the restaurant, if you want.”

  “We came here to watch Halloween just after my seventeenth birthday.”

  “I know,” I reply with a smile.

  No one else would come with us because our friends were all about new horror, action, or romance. They were soulless, but spending the whole day with Tilly back then is one of my best memories. I was relaxed and weightless, and I could be myself.

  There aren’t many people in screen two. We sit at the back, and she smiles at me.

  “You’re a romantic, Lincoln Reid.”

  “Because I’ve brought you to a cinema to watch a masked killer stab teenagers all day?”

  She purses her lips. “No. Because you remembered it all.”

  There isn’t one second of the time I’ve spent with her that I’ve forgotten. Tilly is one of a kind. She’s someone who sticks with you, her smile and the sound of her laugh implanted in your memory.

  I don’t consider myself a romantic, not in the traditional sense since roses and serenading make me want to vomit, but if she thinks remembering my past with her is romantic, then just call me Mr. Darcy.

  “What about you?” I ask.

  Her eyes soften. “I remember it all like it was yesterday.”

  47

  Tilly

  I feel like I’m hungover when I turn up at work the following day. I’ve been drunk with all things Linc. We’ve spent every second together, and now, I have to do things.

  Hanna and I are on the early shift, so we’re not open yet, and that works because I haven’t told her about me and Linc yet. If customers were here when I told her, they would hear the screaming and all of the inevitable I told you sos.

  The chefs are in the kitchen, preparing for breakfast orders, so I head into the restaurant to lay out cutlery.

  “Hey,” Hanna says, looking up as she places napkins on tables. “You know what’s fine?”

  Her tone is flat. I’m in trouble.

  I sigh. “What, Hanna?”

  “That you ignore your best friend. I texted you, like, twenty times yesterday.”

  “It was two times.”

  “Oh, so your phone isn’t broken?”

  I roll my eyes and straighten up cutlery Hanna put out in a huff because she’s annoyed with me. “No, Han, my phone isn’t broken.”

  “So, I guess you were sick?”

  My mouth twitches. “No, I wasn’t sick.”

  Her shoulders sag. “Okay, I give in first. What’s going on?”

  “I was with Linc.”

  “Huh? You’re friends with him again now?”

  “No.”

  “What? Tilly, I’m worried. Things were getting good. You were more like yourself than you’d been in such a long time. Then, Stanley came back. And I get it; you were thrown through a hoop again, but—”

  “Linc and I are together!” I cannot listen to her going on anymore. And I don’t want her to be worried about me, especially when I’m very okay.

&nb
sp; “Seriously? Oh my God! Together as in, you’re having sex?”

  There she is.

  “Yeah, as in we’re having sex.”

  “Tilly!” she screams, running around the table and colliding with me.

  I’m knocked back, but Hanna is a lot more prepared for her assault than I am and manages to save us before we hit the floor.

  “This is amazing!” she gushes. Pulling back, she holds me at arm’s length. “I told you so! Didn’t I tell you so? He is crazy about you; anyone can see that. I am so glad that you are giving him a chance; you were made for each other. Oh my God, we can go out as three couples. Mel would love that, too.”

  “Okay, stop before you explode!”

  “This is good.”

  I bite my lip. “Yeah, it’s good.”

  “You’re smiling.” Her fingers dig harder into my upper arms. “You’re really smiling. I haven’t seen you happy in four years, Tilly.”

  My eyes sting with the threat of tears. “I am happy now.”

  The noise that comes out of her throat is something between a squeal and a person dying.

  “Tell me everything. Follow me around while I do this,” she orders, holding a basket of cutlery up.

  When we work early together, we each always take one half of the restaurant to get it done quicker, but I guess she doesn’t care about speed today.

  “Well, you know about the whole Stanley arriving fight.”

  “Ugh, that prick.”

  “Yeah. Well, I didn’t see Linc for two days after Stanley left, and I was getting worried, so I went over. Anyway, things went well.” I don’t know if Linc would want me to discuss him getting drunk even if Hanna wouldn’t judge. That seems kind of private, between us, and for him to talk about if he wants, which he doesn’t because he hasn’t even spoken to me about it properly.

  “Specifics?”

  “We talked, and we admitted how we felt and that we wanted to give things a chance. Then, we had sex.”

  Actually, we had sex first, but I don’t want to get into that right now.

  She squeals again and slams the basket down on the table. “How was it?”

  “Amazing. Mind-blowing. Like we should have been doing it all along.”

  “Well, duh! Tilly, I’m so excited for you guys. Is he big?”

  “Hanna! What the hell?” I slap her arm while shaking my head.

  “Come on, Tilly. Girls talk about this stuff.”

  “I don’t know the size of Jack’s dick, and I don’t want to.”

  She sighs. “Fine, be a prude.”

  I grab a handful of cutlery and turn to go to another table. “Yes, he’s big.”

  “I knew it!” she cheers from behind me.

  We’re running a little behind by the time we wipe tables and get the cutlery out. They get cleaned at the end of the day, but the owners are big on dust.

  When the doors open at seven a.m., we’re just about ready. A few people trickle in, and we get orders running.

  I’m cleaning a frothy milk spill from the coffee machine when Hanna nudges my arm.

  “Looks like he can’t keep away.”

  I look over my shoulder as Linc walks in.

  “Do you want me to take his table?” she teases.

  “Nope, I want you to finish this,” I say, chucking the cloth at her to finish cleaning.

  I walk over to Linc, my heart wild in my chest. He’s gorgeous, wearing plain clothes and a heartbreaking smile.

  “Good morning, sir. Where would you like to sit?” I say, trying to keep a stupid grin off my face.

  “Wherever gets me served by you is good.”

  “Well then, follow me.” I grab him a menu and take him to a table near the window.

  Smirking, he takes the menu and sits down.

  “Hanna is happy about us.”

  “So are Jack and Ian.”

  “You’ve spoken to them already?”

  He shrugs. “Jack texted our group chat, so I figured I should tell them.”

  Now, I just need to tell Mel. She’ll be as ecstatic as Hanna though; I have no doubt about that. My stomach buzzes with excitement of things to come—hanging out with Linc and my friends, being a couple and not pretending or holding back.

  “You are so obsessed with me.”

  Rolling his eyes, he says, “Are you going to take my order?”

  “Not yet. I thought you were going to work on the house while I was here?” I ask.

  We had plans to meet up as soon as my shift finished, not that I don’t want him here.

  “Got hungry.”

  “You have food.”

  His smirk grows. “Got tired of missing you.”

  “Cheesy.”

  “Yes. Get used to it.”

  I smile. “No. Get cooler.”

  He laughs and chucks the menu down on the table. “I’ll have a coffee and two bacon rolls, please.”

  “Sure.” I pick up his menu, brushing his finger with mine, and I feel the touch radiate through my whole body.

  “I love you, Tilly.”

  “Love you, too, Linc.”

  I float to the bar.

  48

  Tilly

  Linc’s parents are coming home tomorrow. This was going to come at some point. I’ve accepted that I’ll have to have a conversation with them, clear the air as much as we can, if I want to be with Linc, but I didn’t think it would be so soon.

  “Talk to me, Tilly,” Linc pleads, bending his head, so we’re level.

  I shake my head. “I don’t really know what to say. I thought we had more time.”

  I’m not ready. Or perhaps this is exactly what I need, no time to overthink and obsess.

  “Do you want more time? If you want it, you’ve got it.”

  “I do, but I shouldn’t have it.”

  His chin lifts with understanding. “Yeah, that might be best. Do you think your mum and dad will be open to talking with them, too? That’s got to happen at some point as well, hasn’t it?”

  “I can’t rush them with this, Linc.”

  “I’m with you, but you should talk to them.”

  Groaning, I lean against him. He’s home, my comfort, and my reason. Everything seems that much easier when he’s right there beside me even if being with him is the catalyst for all of this mess.

  “With you?”

  “If you want.”

  I need some of whatever confidence or lack of giving a shit Linc has. He doesn’t shy away from conversations that will inevitably get awkward.

  “How are you so calm about this?” I ask.

  If I could bottle his chill, I would make a million.

  “It has to happen, so we might as well get on with it. I’m looking at the bigger picture, Tilly—a future with you—and if things have to get a bit uncomfortable for people in order for that to happen, then so be it.”

  “I really am glad I got my shit together and gave us a chance.”

  He smirks, lifting an eyebrow. “It was only a matter of time.”

  Behind the cocky exterior he’s just put on is relief. It’s still there in his eyes, a deep-rooted vulnerability over us. It’s grown over the four years we were apart, and I’m determined to smash it down.

  “Of course it was,” I murmur against his heartbeat.

  He might be surer of us now, but until days ago, I wasn’t. It’s taken a lot for me to see what’s right in front of me, but I don’t ever plan on letting him go again. I’m happy, and I know that he is, too. I won’t hurt him again, no matter how hard things get or how much I want to run away.

  It’s time to take back my life.

  Starting with meeting the parents. Again.

  So, we leave his house and go to mine.

  I turn to Linc as we approach my front door. “Maybe we should do this later?”

  He catches me in his arms, stopping me from getting farther away from my house. “Tilly, they’re coming tomorrow. There is no later.”

  “But …”


  “Tilly!”

  Frowning, I contemplate coming on to him because I know that’ll work, but he’s right, and I’m just being a chicken. I let us into the house. “All right, I know. Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

  Mum and Dad are in the kitchen, drinking wine, when we get in. They both do half-days on Fridays, so they’ve been home a couple of hours now. They look up in unison and smile at me and Linc.

  He’s been over a few times now, and my parents barely blink when he walks in. He’s become part of the furniture again. He could probably let himself in, and they wouldn’t care. Not that he would anymore, not without an invitation.

  “Hey, guys. Can we talk a minute?” I ask, biting my lip.

  My heart rate increases as I watch the lines around their eyes tighten.

  “What’s wrong?” Mum asks, slowly lowering her wine glass.

  Linc puts his hand on the small of my back, passing strength from him to me.

  “Um … Linc’s …”

  “Tilly, tell me you’re not pregnant,” Dad demands, his forehead creasing.

  Linc coughs on air.

  “No! Really, Dad? We haven’t even been together long enough to know that! But I’m not! I wanted to tell you that Martha and Cliff are coming here tomorrow. Well, not here, to their house, but, yeah …”

  “I’ve spoken to my parents, and they want to come back and talk to me and Tilly,” Linc adds, speaking much more eloquently than I managed. “We wanted to tell you, so you don’t run into them without warning.”

  “I see,” Mum says, turning to Dad to see how he feels about this.

  My parents are very much a team. They don’t do anything ever unless they’re both in agreement. It’s sweet really and something I hope Linc and I will have.

  Dad gives her a small smile and turns to Linc. “Are they wanting to have a conversation with us, too?”

  “They do, but they won’t push.”

  “Ball is in your court, Dad, but it would mean a lot to me if you thought about it. I mean, at some point, we’re all going to have to be in the same place, right?”

  Mum slowly nods her head as if the thought has only just now occurred to her.

  Is this where she changes her mind and decides Linc being back in our lives is too much?