Chapter 22

Something tore me out of my slumber, and I dropped the remote control on my floor. I'd been snoozing on my sofa, trying to watch telly. I sat bolt upright, looking around and listening intently for what might have woken me up. Just when I had been about to relax again, thinking it might've just been a dream or a loud noise in the street, there was a knock on my door, slow but incessant. Frowning I checked my clock, it was half past midnight and I wondered sleepily who was knocking at this hour. Then there was another knock.

"Emily...? Are you there?" The sound of that voice caused a violent reaction in me, making me feel nauseous, cold, terrified and angry all at once. Weeks and weeks worth of pain came rushing over me. Stupidly I shut the telly off, in a vain effort to pretend I wasn't in. If he could hear it, he would've heard it a long time ago. The voice had frozen me in to place, rendering me unable to think straight. Why was he here? He was supposed to be in Cardiff with the others, what the hell was he doing here? "Emily, please..." The voice coming through the door was rough, pleading, so unlike him, but still undeniably... him. Not really in control of my own feet I gravitated towards the front door, and stopped a few feet from it. I held my breath, not knowing what I wanted more - to hear his footsteps as he left, or his voice calling out my name again. "Emily, please..." From a distance I heard my own voice answering him.

"James, go away." Silence.

"Emily, I just want to-"
"No." I said, more loudly, cutting him off.

"Please, Emily, I have to talk to you, I'm... I don't know what to do here."

"I said. Go. Away." I spat loudly between gritted teeth. "Go back to Cardiff."

"No." The voice coming through the door was defiant. "I'm not leaving until you talk to me."

"I don't have to talk to you!" I shouted at the door.

"I know you don't have to, Emily, but... Open the door, please..."

"James, you have no right showing up like this!" I said loudly, desperately trying to hang on to whatever composure I had left. "Now fuck off, go away!"

"I can stay out here all night until you talk to me." The defiance in his voice was gone, all that was left was just blind desperation. My frustration had been gradually building and I didn't have trouble deciding anymore, all I wanted was for him to leave me alone.

"Why? You ended this, you wanted out, and I gave you the easiest fucking way out. You threw me out of your life! Not a word in weeks, you've been hiding away like the fucking coward you are, so why the hell should you talk now? Can't you just go away and leave me alone?!" I was shouting now, waving my arms at the door.

"Emily, I--"

"NO! I don't care about anything you have to say, I'm beyond caring. You didn't care, you bastard, so why the fuck should I?" I screamed and slammed my fist at the door, no longer aware of what I was saying. "Couldn't you have just stayed the fuck away?! Fuck you, James! You don't get to do this to me one more time, I'm not letting you, ever! Go away and leave me alone! LEAVE!" I couldn't see for tears anymore, and my voice was horribly distorted from screaming and crying at the same time.

"I'm not leaving, I can't.. I can't leave..." James voice cracked. Was he crying?

"LEAVE! James, leave or I'll call the fucking cops and have them drag your sorry ass out of here. LEAVE! LEAVE! JUST FUCKING LEAVE, PLEASE....!" I screamed at the top of my voice and then collapsed in a heap in the corner of my little hallway, sobbing grossly, giving myself over to a kind of soul-crushing crying-fit that was so intense it could strain you to the point of exploding. All my pain, my anger and my grief was threatening to smother me and I couldn't breathe, or move.

            Slowly my hysterics subsided, even if the pain didn't. Feeling drained I remained in my corner of the hallway, sobbing ever more quietly, steadily regaining the ability to breathe. James voice was gone, the corridor beyond my door had been silent for a long time now. With a long, audible sigh I wiped my face and sniffed. I startled when the voice returned. It spoke softly.

"Emily, I'm still here... I haven't left, because I can't. Scream and rage at me all you want, you've deserved that, but please... just open the door." Disbelievingly I stared at the door. How was he still here? How? Clumsily I got to my feet, stiff from having been curled up on the floor for god knows how long, knowing that I was losing, that I had already given in. I didn't have any more rage that could shield me from him and shut him out any longer. With a sigh I unlocked the door and opened it, frightened of what I might find on the other side. The door slid open. James had his back against the corridor wall, leaning against it, one arm folded across his chest. His head was down and resting in his free hand, his unruly hair hiding his face. At the sound of the door opening he straightened up and looked sideways at me, his hand still by his face. James was pale and drawn, almost see-through, as if he was worn too thin. It was like a ghost was looking back at me with cold, empty eyes, a look that would forever haunt me. His hair was overgrown and his face was covered in stubbles. Now that he had straightened up I could see that he was clutching the t-shirt I had wanted to return. Unable to bring myself to speak I just left the door open for him and walked back into my flat. Like a zombie I sat down on the sofa, as far away from the door as I could, pulling my knees up to my body and clutching a big pillow. Shielding myself. Slow footsteps came through my door and I heard it close shut. I had to will myself to look up at him. Seeing me like this, tense and curled up seemed to startle him. He remained by the door but looked at me searchingly as if he was trying to work out if I was hiding because I was scared of him, or putting up a defensive wall against him.

"Hello..." He said softly, his eyes searching for mine. I didn't answer but looked at him quickly, then averted my eyes again. Warily he took a few steps into my living room,  walking slowly as if a sudden move could startle me into hysterics or spark my rage again. "Thank you. For opening the door," he said quietly. Encouraged by my silence he slowly walked over to the sofa and sat down on the other end of it. He leaned his elbows on his knees and held the grey t-shirt with both hands, looking down at it. "I... thought if you kept this, there was the smallest chance that..." His voice trailed off and he hung his head, burying his face in the t-shirt and his hands. I looked sideways to see his shoulders shaking as he started to sob, the sound was so heartbreaking it gave me a fleeting impulse to wrap my arm around him. But I fought it back, steeled myself. How much had I not cried for him in exactly the same way? Eventually his sobs died down, and he heaved a deep breath, trying to regain some control over himself.  "Emily, I... God, I don't know where to begin," he huffed, exasperatedly. "I finally get to talk to you and I can't even.." Another silence. "For what it's worth.. I'm sorry, Emily. You have no idea how sorry I am. I know that doesn't mean shit to you right now, but I need to say it. God, it sounds so pathetic." Privately I couldn't help but agree with him. "Walking away from you... It wasn't the mature thing to do at all. I ran away because I was scared, rather than face it and.. try to work it out like a grown up. And I cowardly pretended to be protecting you, and thought I was protecting myself. Instead I just... ruined everything. The things you said to me before you left... At first I was just mad, because you were mad, and I thought you were unfair. Then I realised that you have every right to be as angry and upset with me as you had been. The silence you left behind... I thought it was going to kill me, I missed you the minute you were out the door. I was so sure that I had just... fucked up everything beyond repair. So I tried to settle for that, that no matter what I said or did you would never... Ever love me again, or even want to look at me. But not a day went by when I didn't think about calling you, or coming here, or.. I wrote you letters, I wrote texts, but I never sent them." I kept quiet, not knowing what to say. He kept staring at his hands as he talked, fiddling nervously with the t-shirt. He had wanted to talk, so I let him, and leaned my forehead against the pillow as I listened to him.  

"I never thought that we weren't... serious. It was more that everything felt too serious, not because you made it out to be, but because of everything I felt for you.. What I felt for you... I'd never felt anything like it before. Emily, before I met you, I.. I thought I'd figured most of it out. Who I was, where I wanted to be, what I wanted in life, what I didn't want. And then you came along and... somehow you changed everything. Suddenly I was thinking about... wanting to live my whole life with you, maybe even get married, and about children, and things I was so sure I would never want. It scared the hell out of me. Suddenly I wasn't sure about anything anymore. And what scared me even more was the thought that you didn't feel.. as much as me. What I said to you... I don't care about the age difference. Without you I feel like I'm dead. And about being in different places in life... Without you I'm nowhere anyway, and the only place I want to be is wherever you are. I am a coward, you were right about that. I worried about how other people would react, which is pathetic. And it isn't who I want to be, someone who lets what other people might think dictate how I live my life. Frankly, I was just so... scared that one day, a month or a year or ten years in the future, you'd wake up and think "what am I doing, throwing away my life on this old sod?" Then you would've figured out that you didn't have to do that anymore, and you'd.. leave me. And I'd die alone and heartbroken. But the stupid thing is... Now I know that I'd much rather have that month, or that year, or those ten years with you, and risk you leaving me... Instead of just having caused you pain and misery." James fell silent, having run out of things to say. I sat up and let go of the pillow, then opened my mouth to speak, but I had been silent for so long not a word came out. The sound of me clearing my throat caused James to turn towards me, and we looked at each other for the first time in what felt like years.

"You left me." I said coldly. They were such simple words, but they contained everything I needed to say; the hurt, the disappointment, the bitterness, the anger, the sadness. And they instantly made me cry again.

"Emily, I know... I wish I could undo it, but I can't, you can't imagine how much I wish that I could. I regret it, I'm sorry about it, I... But none of that helps you. I promise that I will never, ever leave you again."

"I... I have lost the most important people in my life, time and again," I began, still tearful. "I've found myself alone, and lonely, completely shattered. And I've had to rebuild my life, and I've had to work so hard to try and find any meaning in it again. I went through the same thing when you... I don't have another fucking loss in me, James." I looked into his eyes, as painful as it was. James sank down on the floor by my feet, putting a hand on my knee. I squirmed under his touch but he refused to let go.

"Emily, I... I've been so fucking lost without you, I still am. I don't know what to do, or what to say to fix it."
"Nothing you say will fix this. You ran away from me, you disappeared."

"But I'm here now. And I'm done running." His bottom lip was trembling and his voice was cracking. "Which was why I didn't leave. Fear made me fuck this up, and fear kept me from trying to fix it for far too long. I'm not letting the fear get the better of me ever again." He was pleading now, still clutching at my knee, frail and crying.

"You broke me, James..."

"Please give me the chance to try and..?"

"No, you can't...!" I said loudly and looked away, unable to bear his desperate eyes. Quickly I tried to wipe my face dry from tears, but they just kept coming.

"Emily, I need you. You're the only thing that makes sense."

"I don't want you in my life," I said flatly, still not looking at him, trying to conjure up some last remnants of anger to defend myself.

"You don't mean that..." he sobbed.

"I fucked someone else," I said savagely, a last desperate attempt to push him away.

"I don't believe that, and even if it was true I wouldn't care!"

"I don't have any feelings for you... anymore.." I said, barely able to get the words out through my sobs.

"You do, otherwise you wouldn't be crying," he argued, also crying.

"I don't..."I sobbed, not even knowing what I was trying to say anymore.

"I love you, Emily. Please, please love me back." We looked into each other tear-filled eyes, and with that I realised that I had forgiven him. Not because he was crying, or pleading at my feet, not because he had begged for forgiveness, and not because of what he had said to me. I had forgiven him because looking into those eyes I saw that he was just as broken as me, and that we were the only ones who could fix each other. And because no matter how much he'd hurt me and let me down, I still loved him with all my heart. I lifted my hand and ran it shakily over his bushy hair. My hand came to rest at his neck and I pulled his head into my lap, then leaned forward and slid my arms around his head and shoulders. He buried his face in my lap, still shaking with sobs, his arms clutching at my sides. I ran my hand across his hair, over and over, desperately wanting to soothe his crying. Needing to hold him I straightened up and tugged at his arms, pulling him upwards, heaving him up off the floor. Blindly he crawled onto the sofa and into my arms, burying his wet face against my shoulder and neck.

"Sssshh," I soothed as I cradled him in my arms while rocking him, running my hand over his head and back. Slowly his sobs died down, but he still clung on to me. Finally he took a deep breath and sighed, then straightened up slightly. Red, blood-shot eyes looked searchingly at me, there were still sadness in them, but now they also had a bleak ray of hope in them. Gingerly, as if he was unsure he had permission to, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in for a proper hug, and I nuzzled my face against the side of his neck for a moment, taking in the familiar smell of him. His arms loosened their grip on me, but only so he could lean back into me and rest his head on my shoulder. We sat there in silence, arms wrapped around each other. It was enough, we didn't have any need for more words. It was words that had started all this, and we'd both had enough of them. Silence was safer. Just holding him, getting used to feeling his body against mine again, being able to hold him and caress him, and feel him caress me back, was far more healing than anything  we ever could have said to each other. "James?" I said casually, breaking the silence of the night.

"Mm?" His voice was still rough, but he sounded calmer now, relaxed, more like himself.

"Weren't you in Cardiff, filming Top Gear?" I asked, running my hand over his head and kissing his forehead lightly. His head remained rested against my shoulder as he spoke.

"I was, but then this amazingly stubborn woman blankly refused to talk to me. So I was forced to drive all the way to London, in a car that isn't even mine I might add, so I could convince her to listen to me."

"Aha, I see..." I said, chuckling a little. "What car was it?"

"Masterati Gran Turismo."
"Ooh, sexy..!" I said longingly, and it was James' turn to chuckle. "Doesn't that kind of.. ruin filming, though? Missing a presenter? And a car?"

"Yes, a bit. But this was infinitely more important than a plucky motoring show. So frankly, I couldn't care less." I sighed and withdrew my arm from James, then got to my feet. When I did he looked up at me with a startled expression, as if he was worried that I was angry again, or going to throw him out.

"I'm just getting some water." I smiled kindly at him, wanting to reassure him that everything was still okay.

"Oh, okay." I felt his eyes following me as I padded out into the kitchen and filled a tall glass of water, had a drink then filled it again and brought it back to James. Wordlessly I handed it to him without sitting down and he drank deeply. When he set the glass down on the table I reached out my hand to him.

"Come on," I said softly, he took my hand and got up from the sofa. I lead him into my dark bedroom and flicked on a small lamp by my bed. He held me back as I was about to climb into bed, looking at me questioningly, his eyes asking if he was really allowed. Without answering I crawled into it, not letting go of his hand, pulling him after me. Almost shyly he followed and sank down on the bed, but further away from me than I would've wanted. Lying on his side he just peered at me, looking utterly lost and lonely. I inched closer to him and placed a gentle hand on the side of his neck, caressing his cheek with my thumb. I wanted him to wrap his arm around me, but he didn't and I wondered if he thought I wouldn't want him to. I decided to give him time, realising he needed time to forgive himself even if I already had. In the dim light we just looked into each other's eyes. Whole conversations passed unspoken between us in the night, James' eyes told me of his remorse, fear and guilt, but also of his hope and love.

"You know... I didn't really sleep with anyone else," I admitted quietly, suddenly remembering my pathetic attempt to hurt him.

"Good." He gave a sigh of relief. "I would have cared, you know. An awful lot."

"Good," I echoed, and gave him a little smile which he returned. "How long would you have stayed out there in my hallway?"

"Days. Weeks. I considered kicking in your door but I was worried I would hurt my arthritic hip," he muttered dryly. At this I burst out laughing. He had balls for daring to make age-related jokes already. My laughter made James break out into a quick little smile which chased all traces of sadness from his eyes for as long as it lasted. It also gave him the courage to wrap his arm around me. I fell silent again, content to just be able to have James with me and have him hold me. He was broken and battered, but slowly I rediscovered the face of the man I had once fallen in love with, not that long ago. But it felt like a lifetime had passed since then. As the quiet stretched on, I could see how James' eyes became unfocused, somehow gazing inward. He had obviously fallen deep in thought, and I let him be for a while, giving him time to process. But I grew impatient, wanting him back, wanting to pull him back from that abyss he seemed to be staring into.

"James?" My voice brought him back and his eyes snapped into focus, looking at me. "Where were you just now?" I asked mildly. He averted his eyes for a moment, his hand fiddling nervously with the hair at the back of my neck.

"Do you think..." He began, but his voice broke. He cleared his throat and continued. "Do you think... you could ever... forgive me?" The man looking at me in that moment me was bare, completely vulnerable, stripped down to nothing but his fears and insecurities.

"I already have."

"I don't deserve that..." he said quietly, looking down.

"Maybe you don't right now. And maybe you don't deserve me loving you, either, but I do all the same." At this he startled and his eyes shot upward and met mine.

"What?"

"I love you, you daft sod, " I said with feeling. James' face completely transformed when he broke out into a wide grin, it was like the light and life returned to his eyes. His arms closed tighter around me and he leaned in hurriedly like he couldn't wait to kiss me. But he froze in mid-motion, inches from my face, looking insecure. It was as if he suddenly remembered that things were perhaps different now and he couldn't just kiss me because he had an overwhelming urge to. "It's okay," I said softly, caressing the side of his neck. Urged on by this he closed the remaining gap between us and awkwardly, like he had never kissed anyone before, pressed his lips against mine. Instantly falling into an old habit I tangled my fingers into his hair as I kissed him back, desperate to reassure him that this really was okay. His kisses went from timid and nervous to deep and intense as his confidence grew. He had told me about his feelings with his words, and his eyes, and now he was telling me with his lips, and his hands. It made me feel that familiar jolt of glowing joy his kisses had always given me. When he eventually broke the kiss, he did it reluctantly, and kept his face close to mine. I couldn't help but break out into a wide, manic grin, the same way I had the first time he kissed me.

"God, I've missed that," he sighed.

"Me too," I smiled. He leaned his forehead against mine.

"I've missed you so... so fucking much. Your laughter, your smile, sleeping next to you ... The thought that I'd never get to kiss you again... " His voice trailed off and the sadness crept back into his eyes.

"Hey," I said firmly, forcing him to look into my eyes. "Let go of that thought, because you can kiss me all you want. Like... right now would be good." He smiled slightly and ran his hand over my hair before leaning into kiss me again. When we broke apart we just looked at one another, just happy to be able to see some happiness in each other's faces again. "Did you tell anyone you were going before you left? Have you talked to any of them?" I asked.

"Um, no, I didn't, actually, and I haven't." James frowned, looking like he had just remembered that other people existed in the world.

"I was thinking they could be worried about you."

"Yeah, they might be... They've probably tried to get hold of me, I don't know, I left my phone in the car."

"Maybe I should send Hammond a text or something, let them know you're okay?" I asked, and James nodded his consent. "My phone is in the living room, I'll be right back." I scrambled to my feet and retrieved my phone from under the pillow on the sofa, then went back to the bed room and sat down on the edge of the bed. "By the way, would you like to know how many times you called me earlier, you stubborn git?" I smirked, looking at the screen.

"Go on," he said, bracing himself.

"41 missed calls," I smirked, and he made a grimace. Besides from all the calls from James, Richard had called a few times, and sent a text.

"We can't find James, and a car is missing. Just wanted to let you know." That was three hours ago. Quickly I typed in a response, not wanting to call him this late.

"Hi Hamster. James is here with me. He's okay. Don't worry, I won't kill him :) Hope you get some sleep." After having sent the text I put the phone down on the nightstand.

"Right. I told him you're here, and that I'm not going to kill you."

"Good, thank you," James said, looking up at me from where he was still lying on my bed. I ran a hand over his arm and squeezed his hand.

"God, you're ice cold!" I said when I felt the temperature of his skin.

"Yeah, I feel a bit... well, cold," he shrugged, and shivered a bit. I could guess why he was - he was exhausted, physically as well as emotionally.

"Poor sweetie," I said, running my warm hand over his cold arm. Then I stood up from the bed and tore off my shirt.

"What are you doing?" James wondered, propping himself up on his elbows and looking at me wide-eyed while I stripped down to my underwear.

"I'm going to try and get some warmth back into you," I explained as I sat down on the bed and started taking off his jumper and t-shirt. "And the best thing is body heat. Plus, I've missed your skin."James obligingly sat up and raised his hands over his head. Naked from the waist up he laid back down and let me take off his jeans. I crawled into bed and inched up to him, slipped an arm under his neck and wrapped it around his back. With my free hand I pulled my duvet over both of us and wrapped that arm around him too. He felt small and thin in my arms, tense and frozen, like the cold was radiating from somewhere inside him. He sighed heavily and buried his face against the side of my neck, clinging on to me in search for more warmth. I kept running my hands over his back, wanting to cocoon him with my body. His body shivered slightly and he hummed against my neck.

"This might be the best feeling I have ever had..." he mumbled. Nestled under the duvet and in my arms the warmth slowly trickled back into his body, and I felt how he thawed and relaxed against me.

"Feeling better? Warmer?" I asked, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I feel.... like I want to stay like this forever," he sighed and squeezed me tightly. I looked down, into eyes with a shade of blue I never could get enough of. "Emily, I love you." He spoke so quietly it was almost a whisper, as if he hardly dared say it.

"And I love you." I ran a hand down the side of his face. Then we kissed, slowly and tenderly, like we were learning to kiss each other all over again. James rested back against my shoulder, and I kept running my hand over his back, I couldn't get enough of his skin under my fingertips. In the past six weeks we had drifted so far apart and I had done all I could to detach myself from him, convinced that I would never even see him again. Now that he was here I never wanted to let him go from my arms ever again. I could hear how James' breathing became slow and deep, and how his arm got a little heavier where it was draped around me as he drifted off to sleep. Gently I kissed his forehead and allowed myself to join him in his slumber, calmed by James' breaths and his weight and warmth against me.