Hate Mates

10 | Cate & Ryle

Cate & Ryle

He had to come back.

The memory of last year's Valentine's night made him vow that all his Valentines would be celebrated with Cate. She was his only Valentine. He had first gone to her home but hadn't found her there. Her neighbor, Estella, told him that she was here, recognizing him to be the guy 'Caty got banged by that night'.

Underneath the obfuscated sky dripping rain to clean the earth, she looked still as mesmerizing as she had been a year ago. Her long black dress stuck to the shape of her body, framing a delicate, drenched figure. Her long wet mass of black hair was left open, the tips reaching her waistline. It was her eyes, however, warm brown like the earth's, that made him lose himself for a while.

Every part of his body called him to walk to her but he remained frozen in place when she stared at him, her expression starstruck.

"You're late," she said when she was able to compose herself.

"Had to travel a long way..." Ryle let out, his hands fisted in the pockets of his long trench coat. "...but I'm finally here."

"You left without giving me an answer."

"I called you every single day. You didn't pick up any of my calls."

She measured her steps toward him, a muddy foot limping behind. From afar too, he could see how exhausted she was. Seeing her breaking down in the middle of the pavement had made his heart clench. It consoled itself when she reached close, stopping at a distance such that he could count the freckles on her face, count the streaks of amber that lighted her brown pupils.

"Why did you call me?" she asked, sounding like she was speaking through gravel lodged in her throat.

"To say those words back," Ryle answered. "And before you say I could have texted, I wanted you to hear them instead of reading them."

He put the truth as it was — with his heart on his sleeve, afraid that she wouldn't forgive him for how he left things between them. The last year had been merciful to him, except for the agony of her separation. She tormented his very veins from miles away. There wasn't one day that he didn't think of her.

Cate's eyes shone with fresh tears that longed to be let out.

"I'm exhausted, Ryle..." she spoke with a groan. "Tell me what those words were."

"I love you too, Cate Miller." He didn't waste a second before confessing. "You are magnificent."

A smile shaped her lips, her tears escaping, mixed with the drops of rain underneath which they were standing. The street on Fifth Avenue had gone empty with the promise of the storm; only a few cars passing by and they remained.

"That's a compliment I never received before," Cate chuckled, sniffling with a finger under her nose.

"Does it make you feel better?" he asked.

"A lot." She nodded briskly before slipping her arms around his waist, her shuddering breaths dying when her cheek met the fabric right over his chest. "Fuck...you're warm."

"You're cold," Ryle said as he hugged her, folding her into him tight when he could feel every shiver that passed through her body — not from the cold but from every moment they shared.

"You're famous." Her voice sounded muffled over his thin cotton shirt.

"With your name on that book."

Cate went quiet and the sound of the rain encased them for a while. The scent of it mixed with the flowery perfume of Cate, the scent of her hair when he buried his nose in it, his lips breezing over her scalp, filled his senses.