The Thorn and the Blossom: A Two-Sided Love Story by Theodora Goss Page B

falling for you
—
Evelyn, even though you’re flying back to the States
—He didn’t know exactly how it would come out, but he had to say something.
    “Evelyn, there’s something I want to say. Can we sit down for a minute?”
    They sat on a tree trunk covered with moss.
    “What is it?” she asked.
    He didn’t know how to begin. Maybe he couldn’t say it, after all. And then— “These last couple of days, I’m not sure I can describe—” She was leaning toward him, looking at him so solemnly. She was beautiful, there in the forest, with her auburn hair falling in waves down her back, vivid against the green. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, inquisitive.
    He couldn’t help it. He put his hand on her cheek, leaned down, and kissed her. It was sweet, almost unbearably so. She smelled like flowers, probably some perfume she was wearing. He felt the softness of her cheek, her lips beneath his own.
This was it
, a part of him thought—what he had been waiting for, longing for, all his life. The answer to the loneliness he’d felt since he was a child and that others didn’t seem to feel.
    Reluctantly, he pulled back. He looked down at her face in his hand, the eyes closed, lips open, as though she were savoring the moment. She opened her eyes.
    “Evelyn—” he said. Her eyes widened. And then, she screamed. She put her hands on his chest as though to push him away. She rose and stumbled backward, still watching him as though he had suddenly become a monster. She clutched at a tree for support, then turned and ran down the path toward Clews.
    He stared after her, bewildered. What had just happened?
    B rendan walked through the forest, slowly. He could still remember how her hair had fallen around her face. He could still smell her perfume. Had he done something wrong? Surely he couldn’t have misread her so badly. If the kiss had been unwelcome, she would have said so, not screamed. Something had suddenly changed—and he didn’t know what.
    When he got back to Clews, he walked up the main street to the bookstore. He didn’t want to see Evelyn immediately, didn’t know what to say to her.
    He opened the back door and stepped into the office.
    “Where have you been?” asked his father. He frowned at Brendan over his spectacles.
    Brendan stared at him.
    “I came back early,” his father said. “All the codices I was interested in were sold in the first few days. I expected to find you here, taking care of the store. Instead, Mrs. Ross tells me you’ve been at the pub with some girl. Do you have any idea how hard I work to keep this store going, to make an income so you can pursue those studies of yours at Oxford? I don’t know how you could be so irresponsible.”
    It would have been better, Brendan thought, if his father had shouted at him, called him a bloody fool or something like that. This cold disapproval was what he couldn’t bear.
    He turned and walked out again, then stood for a while in the alley, not knowing what to do or where to go. Finally, he walked to the Giant’s Head. He had to talk to Evelyn, had to find out what had happened.
    “Oh, hello, Brendan!” said Mrs. Davies. “Were you coming to say good-bye to Evelyn? I’m afraid she left half an hour ago.”
    “Left for where?” he asked. Had she decided to go on a walk to think about what had happened? If they talked about it, perhaps they could figure it out together.
    “For Truro. She told us that she had to leave earlier than expected. I think she took the afternoon bus. Is that right, Evan?” she called to Mr. Davies.
    “That’s right,” came a voice from the back room. “Earlier than expected, the afternoon bus. She barely had time to pack.”
    “It may have been a family emergency,” said Mrs. Davies. “She seemed quite distraught. I’m sorry you didn’t catch her before she left. I thought the two of you were becoming quite fond of each other. Well, I’m sure you have her telephone number. You’ll call