Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

The customers disappeared, huffing and grumbling that something they'd been looking forward to was cancelled at such short notice. Deb and June fell to the floor with loud sobs, and refused to budge, despite getting their editions signed yesterday. But, of course, they'd shown up as promised with their other editions, forever unsigned. Quinn wondered if he'd been optimistic this whole time.

When Deb and June did move, because June needed to prepare supper, and crying too much was bad for Deb's IBS, they left Quinn with his own thoughts. He sat on the floor in the middle of his shop, almost like he was meditating. The smell of burning incense, intermingled with pages of books, made him feel comfortable. The old pipes, pumping water through to create heat, made it feel like it was mid-spring.

‘Do you want to get a drink?'

‘No,' Quinn said to Ivy, the last remaining person in the shop.

Ivy crossed her arms. ‘I will not have that tone from you, mister.'

‘Ivy, please.' Quinn sighed. ‘I'm not in the mood.'

‘Want to talk about it?'

‘Not really.'

She headed to the front door, and Quinn hoped she would leave, as horrible as that might be. Right now, he wanted to understand what he was feeling, or get out of his own head. He didn't need to be reminded of Noah, of the situation.

‘What happened?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Noah isn't the type of guy to flake like that,' Ivy said. ‘He doesn't let anybody down.'

‘How do you know that?'

‘Because I do.'

‘Oh, please don't give me something about his aura.'

Ivy turned the sign of the door to closed and knelt in front of Quinn. ‘If you must know, his aura is yellow. That means he is pleasant, confident, and a wonderful person. He's safety and warmth bundled up in a package. I know from Hermione that he's kind. And there isn't one bad word said about him in the industry.'

‘Now, how would you know that? '

‘Friends of the festival,' Ivy said, and then, with a slight hint of shame. ‘And Heat magazine.'

Quinn smiled, a genuine one that made him feel lighter, if only for a moment.

‘But I know something is wrong,' Ivy said. ‘Do you want to confess your sins to me?'

Quinn shook his head. ‘I either misread the situation, or I stood up for myself for the first time and it's fucked everything up.'

‘In what way?'

He stared at the wooden floorboards in front of him, wondering how honest he should be with Ivy. Speaking out felt like it would do him good.

‘I told Noah that we couldn't do whatever was going on between us,' Quinn said. ‘I swear he was flirting with me. We were getting closer, and it felt like we were going to end up doing something we would both regret. And he was scared, and I mistreated him. He kept saying how much he didn't want to be in Hay. It would never have worked between us. But I wanted it to, desperately. And I just cut anything short because I was scared, and I couldn't do that.'

‘Oh, Quinn.' Ivy sighed. ‘When did this happen?'

‘Last night.'

‘Oh. And then what happened?'

‘He left. Said he was sorry. Then he didn't come to the signing today, and the next thing I know…'

‘He's back in London.'

The hurt floated between them, and Ivy placed a hand on Quinn's knee. She said nothing more, but somehow it was enough.

‘Don't let this get to you, Quinn,' Ivy said. ‘He'll see sense, and then I think you both need to talk about it.'

‘He's gone, Ivy. Probably for the best.'

Ivy got to her feet, placing her pink earmuffs atop her head. ‘I'll let you be alone. Call me if you need anything.'

‘Thanks, Ivy.'

After Ivy left, a part of Quinn wished she'd stayed. Only, if she'd stayed, he would have had to talk, and he couldn't.

It wasn't his intention to sit in the self-help section, gazing at a title about dealing with heartbreak. He scoffed, closing his eyes, and took three deep breaths. As he tried to clear his mind, all he could see was Noah smiling at him. Touching him. Breathing close to him.

He snapped his eyes open, bringing him to the centre in his shop. He would not let Noah get to him.

What a dick.

That was the only word for him. What a let-down. What a disaster.

What a fool I have been.

How had he allowed himself to get so carried away with his infatuation with Noah? The excitement had bundled him up with a bow on top like he was a Christmas gift, making him feel like he could conquer all with Noah by his side.

But Noah had betrayed him. He was embarrassed, but only because he couldn't admit to himself how much he'd relied on Noah's help. All this time, he'd allowed his feelings to explore what could have been, allowing them to guide him, finding any excuse to get Noah involved in the saving of his business. Yet underlying all of that was the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Noah might become something more to Quinn.

Then there was Matty and all the complications that came with a fresh breakup. What if Noah realised the error of his ways and they rekindled their relationship?

Quinn knew he hadn't misread the signs. The feelings Noah gave him, their private moments exchanged, all felt intense, different, brand new.

Noah felt them too. Quinn was sure of that. You didn't get that close to someone and share so much for no reason. No, there'd been mutual feelings. Did that scare him?

The embarrassment, a twisting, horrible feeling, came from the fact that Quinn felt like he'd made it obvious how much he wanted Noah to be involved in his life. Now he could only imagine Noah laughing at his desperation, at the poor shopkeeper losing his bookshop at Christmas, how desperate he'd been to use Noah's name. He imagined the conversations between Noah and Matty, the gloating smile of Matty forgiving Noah for that moment he interrupted between them in his childhood bedroom.

In amongst all the embarrassment, the upset, and the doubt, he thought he might throw up. How dare Noah lead him on like that? How could he have failed to hide his feelings, messed with his head, and then done this? He left him when he needed him the most, when his future relied on it, and all because … what? Because Quinn shut down any possibility of romance? Because Quinn took the high ground for once in his life, and realised that when a third person is involved, it doesn't matter if they're the devil, they still need to be respected? Had Noah left because Quinn refused to be his holiday affair?

Or was it because they could never be together, because Noah didn't belong in Hay?

Quinn squeezed his fists together, feeling totally not zen. He needed wine. Or whisky. Or a punching bag. Or a whisky-dispensing punching bag in a winery.

Pacing now, Quinn knew the anger was so much more than Noah. All of his life, he had never stood up for himself. He feared what others might think of him or thought about other people's feelings rather than his own. He watched people flourish, progress, find happiness, and where did appeasing others get him?

Here, on a stormy winter's night, losing everything.

Being made a fool of by hot authors and their model ex-boyfriends.

Being pitied by the locals.

The fight wasn't over yet. Screw Noah Sage. He didn't need him or his perfect body with the V-line. Or his poetic mind. Or his intellect. Or his immense talent, and kind, warm personality.

There were three more days before Christmas. Three more days to save his shop.

The party, the protest: they were the next milestones. Both fell on the same day. Looking up at the castle, as rain fell from the sky and battered its stone exterior, he knew this was his last chance. Either he could build himself back up from disrepair, or he would lose the fight.

Quinn typed out emails, not only hyping people up for the protest and the party, but trying to convince himself that there was something to look forward to. He swallowed his pride as he started the emails with apologies for letting them down that the signing didn't go ahead. He decorated his shop as much as he could for the party, ordering some last minute items. He made a list, and checked it more than twice, of things he would need to buy: party food, alcohol, and mistletoe.

Because everyone needed mistletoe at a Christmas party!

Tomorrow, he could rest. He could open his shop and tell any customers that they were welcome to the party. He'd prepare his own sign that he would parade at the protest.

A small, niggling feeling of excitement came from within, and he nourished it like a caveman to the first flame.

Noah was but a man. A man carved from marble and listed in the dictionary as an example of handsome, sure, but despite that, a mere man. Quinn vowed not to allow himself to waste any more time on him. Guys like Noah were make-believe.

Getting to his feet, ready to leave the shop, Quinn decided he needed a bottle of wine and to watch a good Christmas romcom in his flat. He would witness someone else's Christmas happy ending, and all would be right in the world.

Hell, maybe even a night with a vibrator. Why not? Go wild.

His email pinged. He considered not looking, sure it would just be someone confirming their attendance, but curiosity got the better of him.

His heart plummeted.

Noah.

One simple response.

I'm sorry.

Sorry? Was that it? Seven letters? Two words?

Sorry?

The anger came rushing back to him like an avalanche of killer snow. He could almost feel himself get engulfed in flames, sure that if Noah were here now, his glare would burn him. He typed, slamming his fingers into the keyboard, his eyes not leaving the screen.

Never have I felt so disappointed. Sorry doesn't cut it. You may have let me down, but I don't care. I can move past it. But I can't forgive how you let down a huge amount of people who had been waiting at the shop, in the melting snow and freezing rain, just to get a moment to meet you, get their books signed, and spend some time with you. To meet the boy who grew up in Hay, back at last. To meet you, all of you, but you let them down. You should be ashamed, Noah. I thank you for your help so far and your donation. I hope London is everything it's meant to be.

Send.

No regrets.

No other thoughts.

From this moment on, Quinn's own romantic story ended. Life wasn't a romcom. There were no happy endings here.