The Wake-Up Call

by Beth O'Leary

She grins at me, and there it is—a traitorous flicker of sensation in my gut. This happens sometimes. Ninety-nine per cent of the time, I think Izzy is the most annoying woman I have ever met, but very occasionally I can’t help noticing how beautiful she is.

I know why Izzy’s so surprised to hear me talking about the hotel as a family: She thinks I don’t care. That I’m heartless. But if I am, then why does my chest hurt at the thought of letting this part of my life go?

We are all misled and misdirected from time to time. Perhaps there really is no shame in that, as long as we wake up to it before it’s too late to change.

I am a careful man by nature. But Izzy makes me feel reckless.

Because I like her. I like her stripy hair and the way she plays dirty. I like that she challenges me. I like that she’s so much more interesting than she seems at first glance. I want to be the one person who knows every inch of the real Izzy.

There’s a reason it’s harder for women to approach men than the other way around—when the world tells you your worth is about men desiring you, it’s hard to take it when they don’t, and we’re scared to be rejected.

if you’re made for each other, you’re made to heal her when she’s hurting.

“My type isn’t women in tiny gymwear who watch complicated films. Right now it is a small, irritating Brit with wicked green eyes who is occupying all of my thoughts, even though my brain knows she shouldn’t be. Do you understand?”

I think we’re in one of those sliding-doors moments. Balancing on the edge of a decision we won’t be able to unmake. I am struggling to remember why I shouldn’t lean across the poker cards and pull her down into a kiss—not the kind of kiss she gave me, sweet and slow, but a fiery, electric-shock of a kiss, the kind that gets you hot in half a second.

But there are different ways of being here. I play Jem’s voice note one more time and feel so grateful for the friends who still make space for me in their whirlwind lives; the people who know exactly why something will hurt, and who know just what to say to make it better.

Now, it’s because of what it means: the freedom to live and work in this strange, wet, awkward little country that I have fallen so unexpectedly in love with.

(Why is it that when men sweat, it’s sexy, but when I sweat, I look like I’ve been crossbred with a tomato?)

I want to look after you. So that you don’t have to do it all, for once.

“But we always found our way back to each other. That was just our story.” He shrugs. “Our friends didn’t understand. But I’ve always said that love takes a different shape for everybody. Some of us fall in love the straightforward way, and some of us have a more . . . winding path.”

“But I think Izzy likes anything with a story attached. And rings are objects we give a lot of value to, us humans. Symbols of eternity, dedication, you name it. They were always going to catch her eye.”

I would like to believe that I can let a person see me, and that once they have, they might think more of me, not less.

I don’t want to get Izzy out of my system. That is clearer than ever after last night. I want all of her. Her kindness, her commitment, her multicoloured hair, and the way she always puts me in my place. I want to take her home and call her mine.

By the week before Christmas, I am gone. I am out of my own control. Every time we touch, I feel myself tumble a little further, and every time she gives me a bright, professional smile at work it hurts a bit more. I had imagined the danger in this arrangement would be Izzy losing interest in me after we had sex. But it seems the real danger is me falling in love.

“Lucas,” she says, softly now. “You can relax. It’s just me.” It’s just me. Like she isn’t fucking everything.

He’s not. He’s fire and steel and ice. When I’m with him, whether we’re in bed or in the hotel, I’m always feeling something.

Sometimes things are lost, and you grieve for them, and they change you, and that’s OK.

My love for you grows stronger every day. I want forever with you. I want to find out how big and bright this love will be when we’re old and grey.”