Page 136 of The Wedding Forecast

I look up at him.

‘Will I see you again this week, before I go?’ he asks.

‘I don’t know. Maybe. I need to think.’

‘Okay,’ he says. ‘Well, if I don’t see you, goodbye.’

‘Goodbye.’

‘I love you.’

‘Mac!’

‘Sorry, it slipped out.’ He gives me a cute smile that I refuse to find cute, and I turn and rush to the taxi, and get into the backseat, pulling the door shut.

‘Are you okay?’ Hayley says, turning around from the front seat. She’s doing her best to keep her face neutral in front of Patrick, but I can see the real questions in her eyes.

‘Yes. Fine. Just a bit, you know, all over the place after the launch and everything.’ My hands are shaking and it takes me three tries to do up my seatbelt.

‘You sure you’re okay?’ Patrick asks gently. He’s sitting squished in the middle, with Luke on his other side, which is a terrible place for the tallest person to be. His knees are practically touching his chin.

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I’m just feeling emotional.’

‘Anna is always emotional after being the centre of attention. She doesn’t do well with it,’ Hayley says, which is true but I know she’s actually saying it to deflect from my Mac feelings.

‘You were a star tonight,’ Patrick says to me.

He’s so nice, it’s killing me.

I look out the window as we drive, trying not to think about what Mac said, but my mind can’t seem to focus on anything else. He loves me. It’s a surprise and it isn’t. It’s not a surprise because whenever we were together, whenever we spoke on the phone, it felt like we were in love, in a way where we didn’t need to say it, it just was. But I was never sure if this was real for both of us or only a feeling on my side. And now. I guess I know. He flew across the world and told me he loved me. It should be the most romantic thing that has ever happened to me. And it is, except I didn’t want to see him again and I have a lovely boyfriend and a life that works better without being in love with someone in another country.

I give myself a silent pep talk.

Do not be seduced by this. He is leaving in a week. Do not blow up your life for a meaningless love declaration. He is the guy who said he has nothing to offer you. He still doesn’t. Do not go running. You have learned your lesson. Remember Joel. Remember the psychic. The universe wants you to have Patrick. You want Patrick. Be numb, be numb, be numb.

But Mac’s question is playing on my mind too. Do I love Patrick? We haven’t said ‘I love you’ yet, but the other night, Patrick was tracing words on my back, mostly jokey words and silly phrases, but I am pretty sure he wrote ‘I love you’, right as I was falling asleep. But do I love him? I turn to look at him, and he picks up my hand and squeezes it.

How can I not love him? It would be utterly terrible and self-destructive not to.

41

THE TAXI PULLS up at our house. Luke pays, and I’m too consumed with my thoughts to protest. We all troop inside. Hayley and Luke have been talking nonstop and Patrick and I have said almost nothing.

‘Who wants drinks?’ Hayley shouts from the kitchen as we sit on the couches. ‘We have white wine, we have vodka somewhere, we have…that’s it, that’s your choice.’

‘I’m good with just water,’ Patrick says.

‘Me too,’ I say.

‘That’s very boring,’ Hayley says. ‘We’re still celebrating the book!’

She brings out four glasses of wine anyway, and chatters on, and Luke and Patrick talk with her, but I can’t think of anything to say. I can’t make my mouth move, I can’t form thoughts. I go to the bathroom, and I stare at myself in the mirror.

You love Patrick. You love him. You do. And if you don’t yet, you will. You pre-love him. He can be everything you ever wanted.

I glare at myself and splash my face with water. Hold it together.

When I walk back out, Patrick meets my eye. ‘I think I’m going to head home,’ he says.