Am I imagining it or does his expression soften, just a little?
‘And I should never have talked to you the way I did last night,’ I say. ‘There’s no excuse for it. I’m sorry I ever called you— I’m sorry for all of it. And of course I understand why you’re taking the job. I think you’re right to take the job. You should go, of course you should go, if that’s what you want. You deserve another chance at a film career. I was just being selfish because …’
Fuck it. Fuck it, he’s leaving. I remember how unselfconscious I felt around him before I realised I’d fallen for him. How direct I allowed myself to be with him. There was no overthinking, there was no game-playing.
I can be direct with him one last time.
I can be as brave as he thinks I am.
I take a deep breath. ‘I was being selfish because I just got to know you, and now you’re going and I hate the thought of being here without you. I’ll miss you so much, Art.Somuch. And right now I don’t care if you know that. I don’t want to be a hedgehog—’
‘A what?’ says Art.
I ignore him and keep going. ‘I don’t want to be a hedgehog and hide all my feelings and let you go without saying anything.I can’t let you leave thinking I hate you. Because I don’t hate you, Art. I really,reallydon’t hate you. I get anxious and weird with pretty much everyone I meet but not with you. Never with you.’ I look directly at him now, at that face I used to find smug and irritating, the face I now wish I could look at forever. ‘I know we drive each other mad sometimes, but working with you and hanging out with you and hooking up with you, I love … I don’t know, I love all of it. Even the annoying bits. And I know I wouldn’t be saying any of this if you weren’t leaving the country, and I know in a few weeks you’ll be in New York taking the piss out of some cool Brooklyn girl’s clothes, but I had to say something before you go and—’
‘Oh my God, McDermott,’ says Art. ‘I don’t want to take the piss out of cool Brooklyn girls!’
Seriously? This is what he takes from my big speech? I just poured my heart out to him andthisis how he responds? Wow. Just … wow. I suppose the girls in Brooklyn are too cool for him to slag off. Jesus, maybe they’re welcome to him.
‘Well, thanks for telling me,’ I say. ‘Okay, let’s leave it there.’
‘What?’ says Art. ‘No, sorry, that came out wrong! I don’t want to take the piss out ofanyother girls.’ He takes a step closer to me. ‘I don’t want to take the piss out of anyone but you.’
These words should sound like a joke but they don’t. There’s something in his tone I can’t quite read, or maybe something I don’t dare hope for.
‘Don’t you?’ I say.
‘I really don’t,’ says Art. ‘And I wantyouto keep on taking the piss out of me, because you’re pretty funny when you’re not calling me a dickhead—’
‘I said I was sorry!’
‘And I want you to keep doing what you’ve been doing to me for the last month,’ says Art. ‘I want you to keep making me laugh. I want you to keep calling me on my shit. I want you to keep having incredible sex with me – we haven’t had enough of that yet, not nearly enough.’ He reaches out and takes my hand. The look in his eyes makes my heart race. ‘I want you, Annie. If you’ll have me. That’s what I want.’
Is he saying what I think he’s saying? Surely not, because …
‘But you’re going to New York,’ I say.
‘No,’ says Art. ‘I’m not.’
‘But the job …’
‘I turned it down,’ says Art.
I stare at him. ‘You didn’t say that last night!’
‘Last night I hadn’t turned it down yet,’ he says. ‘I told you it wasn’t an easy decision. It took me a long time to make up my mind.’
‘But … but youshouldtake it!’ I say. I say it even though my head is spinning with happiness at the thought that he’s not leaving. Because much as I don’t want him to go, I can’t be selfish. I can’t encourage him to give up this chance. ‘It’s your dream!’
‘Itwasmy dream,’ says Art, ‘fifteen years ago. But my dreams have changed since then. You reminded me of that.’
‘What do you mean?’ He can’t be staying because of me, can he? I can’t let him do that. Not if this job really means something to him. It’s not fair and, selfishly, it wouldn’t be a healthy basis for whatever might be beginning between us right now. And so, even though it causes me physical pain to utter these words, I say, ‘I don’t want you to go. I really, really don’t want you to go. But if this decision has anything to do with me, and if you really want to—’
He squeezes my hand and pulls me a little closer to him. ‘I’m not going to pretend you weren’t one of the reasons why the decision was hard,’ he says. ‘Because you were. But don’t worry, this isn’t on you.’
‘So why …?’
‘I told you I’d been to therapy,’ says Art. ‘I spent a lot of time figuring out how to be happy with how my life had turned out. I’d moved on. And taking that job … it doesn’t feel like moving on. It means working on a script that won a prize my script won thirteen years ago. It feels like moving backwards. Like, this film is the beginning of someone else’s dream. And I hope it all works out for them. But last night, when you said I could be the old Art again, I knew I didn’t want to be. I can’t be. I need to go in a new direction now.’