Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Orla, aged 18. December 14 th

It had been a glorious weekend with Shay. He had been true to his word and made love to her in every room of the house, but even when they hadn’t been doing that he had cuddled and kissed her as if he simply couldn’t get enough of her. When they were having sex, he would look at her as if he was completely in love with her and impossibly, she knew she had fallen even more in love with him.

And she’d decided to tell him.

She couldn’t believe that after that incredible weekend of kissing, cuddling and making love he didn’t feel the same way. Maybe he’d felt this way for years, just like she had, but neither of them had been brave enough to tell each other. Maybe they needed this weekend to make everything come to a head. She was going to London for her apprenticeship tomorrow, but they could make it work. She could come back here on holidays and weekends. He could come and visit her.

‘We should go,’ Shay said in between his kisses. They were due to check out of the house in the next half-hour and they were all packed ready to go but Shay had been keen to make the most of the cottage and made love to her one more time. Now they were lying in bed, kissing.

‘Shay.’

‘Mmm?’ Shay said, still enjoying the kissing.

She giggled against his mouth, and he pulled back to look at her, affection for her in his eyes. She stroked his face. ‘I love you.’

For a brief second, she thought he was going to say it back, that he was going to kiss her and tell her he’d always been in love with her too. His eyes lit up and there was a smile on his face before his face changed. His eyes widened in horror. ‘No, Orla, you can’t love me.’

He quickly got out of bed and started throwing clothes on.

‘But I do.’

‘No. This was just sex. Great sex admittedly, but it didn’t mean anything. You’re getting confused between wonderful sex and the emotions that can develop because of that and a deeper connection of love. This isn’t love.’

‘I’m not confused, Shay. I’ve been in love with you for years. I know how I feel.’

He threw her clothes on the bed. ‘Get dressed, we need to go.’

With that he stormed out the room.

What the hell had just happened? How could her beautiful, perfect weekend have suddenly ended so badly? How could he not feel the same? She’d seen it in his eyes, felt it in his touch. He had spent the whole weekend touching her in some way, he had stroked her, cuddled her, or even held her hand as they watched TV as if he didn’t want to be apart from her. Sometimes, he would just lie in bed or on the sofa stroking her and kissing her, even if they weren’t making love. Why would he do that if it was just sex? Nothing about this weekend had been meaningless. It had been beautiful because he had been so affectionate and loving towards her. He loved her, she knew that in every fibre of her soul.

She got out of bed and quickly threw her clothes on and ran downstairs to see him throwing their bags into the boot of his car.

‘Shay.’

He didn’t even look up from loading the boot.

‘God damn it Shay, at least have the courtesy to look at me.’

He sighed, closed the boot and came back to her as she stood in the doorway.

‘I love you, with everything I have. And I know you love me too, I know you do.’

He shook his head and looked away. ‘You need to aim higher Orla. You’re going to your big apprenticeship in London and then on to university. You’re going to make something of your life, be somebody, not some nobody with zero prospects. You’re going to be some amazing chef someday, cooking for the rich and famous in your own restaurant in some swanky city. Have higher standards for yourself.’

‘I have the very highest standards. Which is why I’m in love with the kindest, most amazing, brilliant man I’ve ever met.’

‘I’m none of those things.’

‘Is this just your self-doubt and self-hate kicking in. You think you don’t deserve to be loved. You couldn’t be more wrong. Do you think any other man would have treated me with so much care and respect this weekend? Would any other man have gone to this much trouble, renting a cottage just to make sure that my first time was special? Would any other man give up a night of sex with his girlfriend just to make sure I get home safely from a party? You are the kindest, most generous, decent man I’ve ever met. You deserve to be loved, you are loved, and I won’t let you discredit, dismiss or patronise my feelings for you. I love you.’

‘You’re being ridiculous.’ He walked into the house and came back a few moments later, closing the door behind him. He locked the door and popped the key into the key safe. ‘Let’s get you home.’

‘No.’ Orla said, folding her arms across her chest.

‘What?’

‘For once in your life, be bold, be courageous, take a risk and tell me you love me too. I know I’m going to London, but we can make it work somehow. I can come back at weekends and during the holidays. You can come and visit me in London. Just tell me you love me and we can figure it out.’

Shay looked away and shook his head.

‘Or tell me you don’t love me. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me and I’ll walk away now. I’ll go to London, and we can forget this whole weekend ever happened.’

He didn’t speak for the longest time and that didn’t bode well. Surely if you loved someone and they loved you, you’d shout your feelings for them from the rooftops.

He turned back to her. ‘I don’t love you Orla. I’m sorry, I don’t feel that way. It was just sex.’

She felt her heart shatter. How could she have got this so wrong?

She nodded and got in the car, willing herself not to cry. He got in the car too and they drove back to hers in complete silence. Tears fell down her cheeks as she stared out the window and she quickly wiped them away, not wanting him to see.

He pulled up outside her house and she was desperate to get away from him. She was so embarrassed, so hurt, she just wanted to curl up on her bed and sob.

‘Thanks for a lovely weekend,’ Orla said, not looking at him.

‘I umm… I guess I’ll see you when you come back for Christmas in a few weeks.’

There was no way she could face that. She shook her head. ‘No you won’t. My mum is talking about going to Scotland with her new boyfriend for Christmas. Dad has already moved to Newquay with his girlfriend. In fact, I’m never coming back here. I have nothing to come back for, not anymore.’

‘You have Fern.’

‘I’ll always stay in touch with her.’

‘And… we can still be friends.’

She shook her head. ‘I never knew what it felt like when people talked about being broken-hearted until today. There isn’t any coming back from this.’ She swallowed a sob that threatened to escape but more tears fell from her eyes. She quickly wiped them away. ‘I can’t come back here and watch you go off with random women you don’t even like. I can’t come back here and see you or talk to you without remembering this… pain I’m feeling or without remembering this beautiful weekend and how it meant nothing to you. This has to be the end. Goodbye Shay.’

She got out the car, hurried round to the boot, grabbed her bag and ran up the garden path.

‘Orla, wait.’ Shay was out of the car, but she quickly opened the front door and closed and locked it as soon as she got inside. She ran upstairs as she heard him hammering on the door. She threw herself down on her bed and burst into tears.