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Does that mean,” she asks quietly, “that I’m your girlfriend?” My eyes hold hers as a barrage of emotions flood me. Fuck this. For the first time in years, I know what I want. If I could stay in this moment forever, I would. With this girl. My girl. Leave London, my company, everything behind and become hermits on these cliffs. “Yes, Charlie. You most certainly are.” She rests her head on my shoulders, and I inhale deeply into her hair. So this is what content feels like.
I am hopelessly, utterly irrevocably in love with this man, but I can’t admit it out loud. I want this man from my very core. I’ve never wanted anything more, and that thought terrifies me because to love this deep means I have so, so much to lose.
“I’m wiping the slate clean. I love you, Charlie. I’ve never loved anyone like this before. I want you to be my girlfriend; I want you to be my last girlfriend.
