The Bookshop of Second Chances by Jackie Fraser (best life changing books .TXT) 📕

that’s harsh. I don’t hate him or anything. He was kind to me on Monday. And look, he brought me some chocolates today. They’re fancy.’

He looks at the box but doesn’t rise to it. ‘I know. I was just… I’m sorry.’

‘I’m not like you, you know. I don’t have sex with people for weird convoluted reasons.’ I take a biscuit myself and unwrap it, taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully. I have no idea what’s going to happen. I’m so surprised he’s here, and I can’t imagine what he’s going to say next. I have butterflies, but I’m not exactly nervous.

‘I know. I know. I didn’t know what to think, and it’s easy, isn’t it, to say stupid, horrible things. Easier than saying anything meaningful or true.’

‘Is it? I don’t know, Edward, it seems to me the easiest thing to do is tell the truth or say nothing. I’m not sure why you’d want to hurt people who like you.’ I feel the tears pricking behind my eyes again, and blink rapidly to ward them off.

‘Do you like me?’

‘Well, I did,’ I say. Then I laugh. ‘Why do you think I was so upset? Honestly, you saying we’re not… friends–’ There’s the catch in my voice again. I sip my water and clear my throat. ‘I thought we were. That made me feel stupid.’ I look at him briefly, and then away. ‘I’ve been feeling quite stupid.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I always get this stuff wrong. I never manage to do the right thing, the sensible thing. I always misunderstand or fuck up.’ He looks miserable, and pauses to unwrap his caramel wafer. He folds the wrapper in half lengthways, and then in half again, and again, smoothing the folds with his finger.

I wait.

‘If we’re not friends, it’s my fault,’ he says.

‘Well, yes, it would be.’

‘Because I do like you.’

‘That’s nice. Usually friendship follows on from that in a pretty straightforward way,’ I tell him, ‘especially if you’re both adults and everything.’

‘Yes.’

‘But?’

‘But there’s a problem.’

‘Is it that you’re an arse?’

A grin flickers briefly. ‘No, it’s not that. Although it doesn’t help.’

‘Go on then,’ I say, ‘I’m prepared.’

‘I did try to tell you. But I don’t think you believed me, or wanted to understand what I was saying.’

I raise my eyebrows, puzzled.

‘We can’t be friends because I’m in love with you.’

I stare at him for a moment, and then I laugh. Eventually I have to put my head on the table because I go limp, my neck strangely floppy, when I laugh a lot. It doesn’t happen often, but at school I spent a lot of time with my head on the desk, weak with laughter.

After what seems like ages, I gradually stop, and wipe my eyes. ‘You idiot,’ I say. I expect I’ve upset him. He’s scowling again. ‘You idiot. This is just a thing you do to yourself, isn’t it? I think you’re just overly suggestible. You spend time with someone and get on with them, and because you’ve managed to screw up in your head how relationships work, you convince yourself it means something it doesn’t. I can see how that’s problematic when you’re dealing with some teenager. But you don’t have to worry about me, do you? Or sack me because of it? If we spend enough time together it’ll go away, won’t it? I mean…’ I can feel myself starting to get upset again. ‘I mean, it goes away even if you are in love with someone, in the end. In the end one of you sleeps with someone else, even if you think it will last for ever. But honestly. Why would you seriously think that?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he says, and gets up.

‘No, it does. I wasn’t laughing at you,’ I add, ‘just at the notion.’

‘Why is it funny?’

‘Because it’s ridiculous. It seems unlikely anyone will ever fall in love with me again. And you especially. I mean, why would you? There are people like Lara for you to fall in love with. Maybe she’s not a good example. But you know what I mean. Oh lord.’ I wipe my eyes. ‘Sorry, that probably seemed rude, to laugh like that. I didn’t mean it to. Sit down. Finish your tea.’

‘Thea. It’s because I have stupid crushes all the time that I know this is true.’

I shake my head. ‘Oh, right, yeah. How does that work?’

‘Because it’s completely different.’

We look at each other.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean when I think people are pretty, or whatever, and you know “what lovely skin” and wonder what it would be like to kiss them–’

‘Pfft.’

‘And even what it would be like to take them to bed, yes, I admit I do think about that. But I’ve never thought about what it would be like if they were there all the time and wondered what they’d think about all my favourite places. Or read things and thought, I must speak to them about this, and wondered if they’ve read that. Or worried they’re sad and I want them to be happy. Wished they were with me when I have to go away.’

We look at each other for a long moment.

‘A lot of that’s being friends, Edward. All of it really. It’s not–’

‘And wanted to kiss them every time I see them. I haven’t even had a woman in the shop – I mean, given a job to one – for like ten years or something.’

‘No girls?’

‘No, I told you.’

‘Well, so–’

‘But that’s how I feel about you.’

We stare at each other for ages. I can feel the pulse in my throat.

‘But–’

‘And I’m sorry I said all those awful things. It’s frightening to feel like this. And I know you don’t feel the same way, so probably I should have kept all this to myself. But I didn’t… I didn’t want you to think that we weren’t friends because I don’t like you. I do – I really like you.’

This is so heartfelt I feel tears brimming again. I’m not sure