The second call was not a quick one.
Nate walked a few steps away, turned back, listened, then looked toward the theatre. Lena shut her notebook.
“Go,” she said when he ended it.
“They've got a problem before the evening show. I said I'd have a look.”
“Of course.”
“Come back with me? You can wait in the foyer. We were going to get something to eat.”
She looked at the river. An hour earlier she had been perfectly happy on her own. Now the thought of waiting in a theatre felt like being put somewhere.
“I'll go to the station.”
“You don't have to go yet.”
“You do.”
He heard the difference. “Yes. I do.”
She could have smiled and made it easy, the way she'd promised at lunch. Instead she started walking ahead of him.
At the theatre door he caught up.
“Lena.”
She stopped.
“I haven't asked you to wait all day.”
“I know.”
“Then don't look as if I have.”
The directness surprised her. He'd spent most of the week accepting anything she said. She hadn't expected him to stop now.
“You told me we'd have time after.”
“I thought we would. Something went wrong.”
“That seems to happen a lot in your life.”
He looked at her. She heard the cruelty after it had left her mouth.
“That wasn't fair,” she said.
“No.”
People came through the door behind him. He stepped aside and held it, losing another few seconds of the time he didn't have.
“I do want to be with you,” he said. “I can't make everyone else disappear to do it.”
She stared at the pavement. A woman carrying a bag of costumes squeezed past them, waiting for Nate to move. Lena moved first.
“I'm sorry,” she said. “I meant what I wrote. I just didn't do it very well.”
He nodded, still looking tense.
“Don't miss your train waiting for me. I'll call when I'm out.”
He went inside. Lena stood there long enough to feel foolish, then crossed the road toward the station.
The next train was delayed. She looked at the board, then at the bench, then bought a packet of crisps she didn't want because it gave her something to do. She messaged Daniel that she would be later.
Everything all right? he replied.
Yes. Work ran late here, train delayed too.
She watched the three dots appear, vanish, appear again.
I'll put something aside for you.
She felt grateful and guilty, both too large for the short message.
The train delay lengthened. At last an announcement said the service would not run. Lena swore softly. A woman next to her sighed in agreement without needing the details.
There was another train in an hour. She had time to call a car, to pay more than she wanted, to get home and make the whole day feel like less of a choice. Instead she went back into town. She bought a bowl of soup at the place where she'd eaten with Nate and sat outside while the light lowered over the river.
Her phone rang halfway through.
“Are you on the train?” Nate asked.
“No. It was cancelled.”
“Where are you?”
She told him. He arrived ten minutes later, breathless enough that she suspected he'd hurried.
“You should have told me.”
“I didn't want you to leave work.”
“I'm done with the bit they needed. Other people are doing the next bit.”
She pushed the bread basket toward him. He took a piece without pretending he wasn't hungry.
They ate in silence for a while. It was not the river walk she'd wanted. His shirt was damp at the collar. Her soup had gone lukewarm. Somehow it felt more like seeing him than the pleasant parts had.
“My place is four hours away,” Nate said. “You've seen what an hour can do to a day.”
“I wasn't proposing to commute.”
“I know. I just don't want to be the version of myself that only exists when you're here.”
She looked at him. He hadn't said when we're together. He wasn't entitled to.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I want you to know I've got work. Bad days. A flat that's too loud. I don't come home to Greyhaven every night and turn into the man you met at twenty-one.”
She looked at the bowl, then back at him.
“I have a café. Jo. Things I like staying for.”
“I know.”
“And I don't want to make them sound small because your life moves.”
“They're not small.”
She believed he meant it. She also knew it wasn't an offer to move his life beside hers.
They walked slowly to the station. The next train was running, though late. He waited with her on the platform. When the wind picked up he stepped closer, shielding her without taking off his shirt or doing anything grand.
“I did have a good day,” she said.
He smiled. “Before the bit where you hated me.”
“I didn't hate you.”
“I know the difference. I've been back long enough.”
She laughed, then looked up at him.
The wanting was sudden and not sudden at all. She could have reached for his shirt. She could have put her mouth against his and made the whole difficult day feel briefly answered.
He didn't move first. His eyes went to her mouth, then back.
Lena stepped away.
“No,” she said, quietly.
He let out a breath. “Okay.”
“I'm engaged.”
“Yes.”
She hated that a true fact could feel like something they had almost forgotten.
The train came in. He took her hand only to steady her near the step, then let go before she boarded.
She found a seat and looked through the window. He was still on the platform. He lifted his hand. She lifted hers.
As the train moved away, she opened the new notebook and wrote the café's name at the top of a page. Then she crossed it out, because she wasn't planning a menu, and drew the edge of the window instead.
Daniel was awake when she got home. A covered plate waited in the fridge. He warmed it while she took her shoes off.
“Tired?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He put the plate down and touched her shoulder.
She wanted to lean into him. She did. That didn't stop her remembering how close she had stood to Nate on the platform.
“Tell me tomorrow,” Daniel said.
She sat at the table with the warm food and wondered which part of the day he meant.