Wish You *Weren't* Here (A Romantic Comedy)

Chapter Twenty Eight

Now there's a twist I wasn't expecting!

Over the years, it had admittedly crossed my mind on more than one occasion that Lewis possibly did remember our past - he'd always proved himself to always have the very best poker face after all. However, I had never considered the fact that I was apparently also pretty talented when it came to hiding my feelings.

The night we were first reunited, I'd assumed my face had probably given away my betrayal; the mortification that my briefest of teenage crushes had no recollection of my existence. But now I come to think about it, if it had seemed obvious then Lauren would definitely have questioned me about it back then. Instead, she'd completely focused on Lewis' apparently uncharacteristic behaviour.

I had been as hard to read as he was.

And so he thought I didn't remember him. And was glad about it?

"I was an absolute mess at that age," he says now. I'm not even sure if he's addressing Dimitrios anymore or talking to himself. "I had my reasons, but I don't think I would have been any good for her." He sighs wistfully. "The very first second I saw her on that coach, though . . . I just knew I had never felt like that before."

I find myself briefly flashing back to that moment - his cheeky grin, the sudden sparklers in my heart as we made eye contact - and it makes me suddenly sad that we managed to get things so wrong for so long.

"It all worked out in the end, though, of course!" Dimitrios' voice is bright and cheerful, a direct contrast to the pain evident in Lewis' tone.

"Yeah." He sounds slightly lighter now. "I hope so."

Eek.

I feel the already familiar turn into the hotel's drive as we bump our way over the gravel, and decide it's time to deliver my Oscar winning performance - "Ruby Rafferty takes home the prize for 'Best Awakening From A Nap' scene!" What do you mean: "That's not a real thing!"? Trust me, they should make it one - my acting talents have been pretty much wasted up until now! I put everything into my portrayal of a woman roused from slumber. Everything!

"Good sleep?" Lewis' gaze is soft as he watches me 'stir' and rub at my eyes . "I thought I might have to carry you to the room if you didn't wake up."

Damn it - that would have been kind of hot, right? I briefly contemplate faking a fainting fit and decide it's probably too much drama for one day.

"What do you want to do next?" he asks me as we walk towards the suite, hands intertwined once more. It's almost second nature now, our bodies constantly gravitating towards each other, craving that skin-on-skin contact.

"Why don't we get some food delivered to the room?" I suggest. "I think we might need to chat some more."

I feel Lewis' sure steps falter slightly. "Surely we're all talked out for now?" He sounds nervous, and I wonder if he's on to me.

Fuck it, I may as well come clean.

"Lewis, I wasn't actually asleep for the last few minutes of the journey," I confess as we walk into the living room. "I heard you talking about us knowing each other from before."

Looking startled, he scrubs a hand along his scruffy jawline. "You do remember," he says softly, eyes widening in wonder. He drops down onto the sofa, shaking his head. "You were so good at pretending otherwise; you really had me fooled!"

I roll my eyes as I grab the bottle of Ouzo I bought two days previously along with two shot glasses, and settle down beside him. "Pot, kettle, etc," I sigh. "I mean, you acted like you didn't recognise me and then left with another girl. So I think your act definitely trumped mine."