How to be loved

34 - Dare to love you

HOW TO BE LOVED

34 - Dare to love you

For the next two weeks, Becky and Freen existed like two celestial bodies in a shared orbit, their paths tantalizingly close yet never quite converging. The fervor of their lives, swallowed whole by the all-consuming preparations for London Fashion Week, left them with only the bittersweet ache of near-misses and silent exchanges. The moments that once tied them together—those shared glances, those stolen whispers—had been reduced to fleeting glimpses, each one a silent promise of what could have been.

Freen was entrenched in the world of fashion, her days a relentless cycle of fittings, rehearsals, and strategy sessions. The early mornings greeted her with the cold light of dawn, and the nights, heavy with exhaustion, found her drifting into fitful sleep, her mind always circling back to Becky. Amidst the chaos of flashing cameras and the ceaseless buzz of designers and stylists, Freen's thoughts strayed to the woman she barely had time to see, let alone hold.

Becky, in her own whirlwind, was a woman on a mission. Determined to stand beside Freen in London, she threw herself into the intricacies of planning with a single-minded focus that left little room for anything else. Meetings with sponsors, travel arrangements, accommodations—all of it required her attention, her relentless precision, driven by the desire to remove every obstacle that might come between them. Her heart clung to the hope that once in London, they could finally bridge the distance that had grown between them.

But it was in the quiet moments, the passing seconds that stung the most. A brief encounter in a corridor—Freen's tired smile meeting Becky's gaze, the unspoken words hanging in the air between them. There was no time to pause, no space to breathe the same air, let alone share their thoughts. Yet, in those fleeting exchanges, entire conversations passed between them—conversations of longing, of missed connections, of a love tested by time and distance.

As the days ticked by, Becky's anticipation for London simmered into a fervent longing. She meticulously planned each detail of the romantic gesture she would make to Freen, envisioning every moment with the precision of a daydreamer lost in a fantasy. A private boat ride down the Thames, where the city's lights would shimmer on the water like a thousand stars; a quiet walk through Hyde Park, where she would finally lay her heart bare. Every thought, every action, was imbued with the desire to show Freen just how much she meant to her.

Freen, too, found herself counting down the days with a mixture of excitement and unease. London Fashion Week was more than a career milestone; it was a dream she had nurtured for years. Yet, the closer the date loomed, the more her thoughts drifted to Becky—the woman who had, almost imperceptibly, become her anchor in a world that often felt overwhelming. The runway, once the center of her universe, was now a backdrop to the longing that tugged at her heart.

London was more than a destination; it was a promise. A promise of reconnection, of rediscovery, of redefining what they meant to each other. As their departure approached, both Becky and Freen clung to that hope—the hope that once they stood in the heart of London, they would find themselves back in each other's arms, no longer just two bodies in orbit, but two souls reunited by a love that had never truly wavered.

Two days before their journey, with her tasks nearly complete, Becky felt the pull to see Freen, to bridge the distance that had stretched between them like a taut string. She drove to the beach where Freen was engaged in a photoshoot, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and nerves. The drive, long and winding, only heightened the tension coiled within her, every mile a step closer to the woman she missed with every fiber of her being.

When Becky arrived, the shoot was winding down, the crew packing up under the fading light of the afternoon. A staff member pointed her toward the shore, where Freen had wandered off, drawn by the sea's quiet call. As Becky approached, the sound of the waves grew louder, the rhythm of the tide a soothing contrast to the chaos of the city left behind.