The Daughter's Choice

by S. D. Robertson

  Ryan wasn’t seeing anyone either, busy with his own work.

  It probably seems odd that we didn’t move on to phone or video calls, but neither of us suggested it. Why? Who knows? It was working as it was; I suspect we were both afraid of making a wrong move and shattering that.

  We’d message each other last thing at night, first thing in the morning and countless times in between. Whenever something out of the ordinary happened to either of us, we’d immediately message the other with details.

  I didn’t tell anyone we were doing this – not my housemates or Cara, and definitely not Dad. This was probably because I knew they’d all advise me against it. And I didn’t want to stop.

  My housemates knew I was messaging someone a lot, but I pretended it was Cara; they guessed that wasn’t true, as I found out later, but Ryan wasn’t a suspect, since I hadn’t mentioned him in ages, nor told them about our summer meet-up. They thought I was seeing one of my tutors, believe it or not.

  Anyway, as the Christmas holidays grew ever closer, Ryan and I tentatively started to discuss meeting up when I got home. It was him who brought it up first, although it had been on my mind for a while before then.

  Ryan: It’s nearly Xmas! Excited to come home?

  Me: Obvs. It’s one of my favourite times of the year. You know that.

  Ryan: Are we finally gonna catch up in person after all our chatting?

  Me: Sure. Everyone’s meeting in the pub on Xmas Eve, right?

  Ryan: Yeah, true.

  I could tell he was angling for something more personal: a one-to-one meeting, like a quiet drink together or dinner.

  Part of me wanted a more intimate reunion too, but, equally, the idea terrified me. How could it not feel like a date? While it was only messaging going on between the two of us, it was manageable, containable. I knew that would change once we saw each other in person. Keeping it within a group setting, where no one else knew we were back in regular contact, felt like a wise safety precaution.

  The irony was that I’d never felt closer to Ryan than since we’d started sharing so much with each other via these messages. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t fantasised about us falling into each other’s arms again. This image and various more graphic ones had been regular fixtures in my mind, waking and sleeping, for some time by that stage. But although our chats had included some flirting, particularly on occasions when I’d had some wine, I’d never gone so far as to admit my feelings. I was too scared. He’d hurt me so much once before. How could I be sure he wouldn’t do so again?

  Ryan hadn’t specifically said that he wanted me back. However, I knew that boy like the back of my hand, having spent the best part of my teenage years as his girlfriend. I found it obvious from the fact he was messaging as often as he was, and from the things he did say, that he still had strong feelings for me. He’d say, for instance, that he couldn’t open up to anyone else about his hopes and fears like he could to me. He’d regularly reminisce about stuff we did together as a couple when we were younger. And he’d often mention – particularly after a few beers – how much he missed me and how he regretted what he’d done to ruin our relationship. Thankfully, he no longer gave off jealous vibes about me being at university, doing things with other people.

  He didn’t have much to worry about there, anyway, considering how hard I was studying. Although there was an incident with a lad called Bill, who I knew from halls in first year and bumped into on a rare night out when I was feeling a bit frisky. You can use your imagination about what happened. It was a one-time thing and a bit disappointing, if I’m honest. I think I did it partly because of the growing feelings I had for Ryan, because they scared me and I wanted to try to turn them off. It had the opposite effect, if anything, reminding me of what I was missing. I didn’t mention the episode to Ryan.

  Did he have similar secret dalliances? Possibly, although not to my knowledge. It’s not something we ever discussed; if he did, like me, it was no business of mine at that point, because we weren’t together. We were simply friends who messaged each other a lot.

  So, despite very much looking forward to seeing Ryan, I avoided making any formal plans to meet up other than at the Christmas Eve do. I only got home a couple of days before that and wanted to enjoy some quality time with Dad; I thought I’d play things by ear and see what happened. Meanwhile, Ryan and I were still messaging loads, to the point where Dad asked me why I was glued to my phone, and I had to pretend I was hooked on a puzzle game. There was no way I was telling him the truth.

  When Christmas Eve came around and Dad was driving me and Cara to the pub where we were all meeting up, I was a bundle of nerves.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Cara asked me after he dropped us off outside. ‘You seem on edge.’

  ‘I’m fine. I’ve had a bit too much coffee, I think. I’m a little hooked on the stuff these days.’

  ‘Me too. Is that all?’

  ‘Yep.’

  She looked unconvinced as she squeezed my hand. ‘You know where I am if you need anything. I’ve missed you!’

  ‘I’ve missed you too. Now let’s get inside and have a drink.’

  I don’t know what I was expecting to happen when I eventually saw Ryan, but as it turned out, my heart pretty much exploded in my chest. The minute I walked into the busy pub, I was looking for him, my eyes scouring every corner until I finally spotted him waiting to get served at the bar. I waved. His big brown eyes zoomed in on me. He threw me a wink and a cheeky grin that made me want to run over there and jump on him.

  ‘What do you want to drink?’ Cara asked, squeezing my arm.

  ‘Vodka and tonic, please.’

  Nodding, smiling and greeting familiar faces all around, I had to steady my breathing, I was so worked up inside. As I made pleasantries, my thoughts were elsewhere. I knew what I wanted – what I desperately desired and was now within my grasp – but there was a silent alarm flashing in the corner of my mind’s eye.

  Did I really want to do this?

  There would be no going back if I went down that road. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.

  Next thing I knew, he was back from the bar and barely more than a metre away from me, greeting others, laughing and joking, gradually getting closer. Was that his aftershave I could smell? I could hardly function as I waited for him to approach me. Then, finally, his lightly stubbled cheeks were pressed ever so briefly against mine as we said hello with two kisses and a momentary hug, just like everyone else. There was a look, though, that passed between us that said so much more.

  I knew at that precise moment I was going to give in to my feelings before the night was over.

  As Cara returned with our drinks, whispering a question about whether Ryan’s presence made me feel uncomfortable, I smiled and shook my head.

  It must have been about half an hour later, when I was at the bar, that I felt a presence behind me and knew it was him before I even turned around. ‘Would you step outside to meet me for a quick chat in a few minutes?’ he whispered into my ear; the intimate sensation of his warm breath on my skin sent shivers down my spine.

  I nodded, helpless, incapable of resisting now he was next to me.

  We slipped outside separately, meeting in a shadowy spot around the corner, away from prying eyes. I found myself standing toe to toe with the boy who two years earlier had crushed me, staring into his eyes and willing him to kiss me.

  ‘Hi,’ he said.

  ‘Hello,’ I whispered, a kaleidoscope of butterflies bursting out of my stomach.

  ‘It’s really, really good to see you, Rose. You look … amazing.’

  ‘You too,’ I replied, gasping at the sudden, unexpected feeling of his hand gently running up my back.

  ‘Sorry!’ he said, stepping back, like he’d done something wrong.

  ‘No, don’t be.’ I reached forward, grabbed the lapel of his leather jacket and pulled him into the most passionate, intense kiss I’ve ever experienced. Each tiny movem
ent seemed to convey a dozen thoughts and emotions. I didn’t want it to end, but when it did, I was speechless.

  ‘Wow,’ was all Ryan managed to utter as he held me tightly in his arms, my head resting on his chest, feeling his every breath as we both took a moment to recover.

  ‘I’ve dreamed about this happening for so long, Rose. I didn’t know if it ever would. I wasn’t sure if you could—’

  ‘Shh,’ I said gently, not wanting to have that conversation yet.

  ‘What next?’ he added after a brief pause. ‘When we go back inside the pub, I mean.’

  ‘Let’s keep this between us for now,’ I said. The truth was that I wanted to rip his clothes off on the spot, but I knew I couldn’t allow myself to do that. If Ryan and I were going to work again, we’d have to take things slowly, at least to start with, as long as I could hold out. It wouldn’t be easy, but if I gave him everything in one go, there was a danger he’d take it for granted and mess up again.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘One request, though. Well, two actually. Please could I have another kiss first, and would you agree to meet me again while you’re home? Preferably as soon as possible.’

  I giggled. ‘Yeah, go on then.’

  CHAPTER 18

  We got engaged early the following July, soon after I’d finished my finals and moved back home.

  As our relationship had progressed and solidified past that Christmas Eve kiss, we’d gradually come clean to all of our friends and family. Many had been shocked, not least my father, although he had managed to keep his cool.

  ‘Right,’ he replied when I first told him over breakfast one morning early that January, when I felt sure enough to say something. Frowning, he fell silent for what felt like ages, finally adding, ‘This is a surprise, I must admit, but it does at least explain a few things I’ve been wondering since you got back from university for the holidays.’ He paused. ‘It’s your life, Rose. You’re an adult and more than capable of making your own decisions. I really hope he doesn’t hurt you again, though. I’ll be civil to him, for your sake, but I can’t promise anything more.’

  Not exactly a ringing endorsement of my decision, but better than I’d feared. Cara’s response, on the other hand, had been more animated. ‘I knew it! I spotted a spark between you two on Christmas Eve. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I thought you might not approve.’

  ‘Why? What’s it got to do with me who you get with? I’m a disaster zone when it comes to relationships and I’d be the last one to dole out advice. Yes, he was an idiot in the past, but if you’ve forgiven him, who am I to stand in the way? Life’s too short to hold a grudge. Whatever makes you happy, Rose.’

  Ryan’s parents were over the moon to hear we were together again.

  ‘It’s so nice to have you back,’ Kelly said, taking me to one side after inviting me over for a Sunday roast to celebrate. ‘Jeremy and I have both missed you so much. We’ve always considered you part of the family, so it was an awful wrench when the two of you split up. I was so angry with Ryan for … well, let’s not go into all of that. The important thing is you’re back together. He loves you and we love you too.’

  My uni housemates were less forgiving, remembering how hard it had been on me when Ryan cheated; not really knowing him very well and never having seen us at our finest as a couple. They came around to him, though, after a few visits when he was on his best behaviour.

  He was very supportive when I went through my finals and he kept the green-eyed monster at bay this time. It probably helped having an end in sight for my studies and thus for the long-distance aspect of our relationship.

  ‘What are your plans after you graduate?’ I remember him tentatively asking during a surprise Valentine’s Day visit when he turned up on the doorstep with a huge bunch of roses and took me for a slap-up meal at a swish French restaurant.

  ‘I’ll be returning home to the Ribble Valley. What do you think?’

  Perhaps not the best decision career-wise, as it turned out, but the pair of us are still young. Once we’re married, who says we can’t move somewhere with better job prospects? If we were a bit closer to Manchester, that would open up a lot of opportunities. Once the wedding is out of the way, I plan to test the waters.

  That’s where he proposed to me, as it happens, on a gloriously sunny Monday in Manchester’s Piccadilly Gardens. He’d lured me there with the promise of a day’s shopping, only to drag me out of a shoe shop with a sudden urgency I didn’t understand, supposedly to grab an ice cream. I almost had a go at him for it, but thank goodness I bit my tongue because, as he was leading me by the hand across the open space at the heart of the city, he suddenly stopped, with no ice cream stand in sight, and threw me this weird grin.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I said as I heard the unmistakable opening bars of my favourite Lauryn Hill song: her amazing cover of Frankie Valli classic ‘Can’t Take My Eyes off You’. The music was pumping from the boombox of a man sitting on a bench in front of us.

  Before I had a chance to say anything else, the man started to sway in time to the music. Mouth agape, I turned back to Ryan only to notice other people on benches also moving in sync with the song.

  ‘Oh my God. No way,’ I said under my breath, frozen to the spot, as the lyrics began and at least twenty, possibly even thirty people – men and women of various looks and ages – stepped out of the background to come together as a flash mob, forming a circle around me and Ryan. They were clicking their fingers, dancing in sync with one another and miming along to the song, like they were in a music video.

  It’s hard to describe exactly what it felt like to be at the heart of that wonderfully choreographed moment: to have so much positive energy focused on me and for it to be such a bolt from the blue. It was magical, dream-like. I was grinning ear to ear and crying all at once. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at Ryan, knowing he’d organised this for me, for fear of breaking down in front of all those people.

  He was squeezing my hand tightly and then he was moving in front of me and getting down on one knee, pulling out a ring box and holding it up before me. I could only just hear what he said over the spectacle unfolding all around us.

  ‘Rose, I’m madly in love with you,’ he told me. ‘Let’s spend the rest of our lives together.’ He paused for breath before adding in a shaky voice: ‘Will you marry me?’

  ‘Of course I will,’ I wailed, barely able to see any more, due to all the tears in my eyes. There was clapping and cheering and Ryan was hugging me; as the music drew to a close, we were locked in the most passionate kiss, despite all the people watching us. And when it ended and I pulled away, opening my eyes, everything had returned to normal. We were two people among a crowd of strangers again, everyone going about their own business. It was as if I’d imagined the whole episode.

  ‘What?’ I said, my jaw still dragging along the floor. ‘Where have they all gone?’

  ‘Where have who gone?’ Ryan said, deadpan. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Are you frigging kidding me?’ I replied, drying my sodden cheeks with the palms of my hands. ‘What are you trying to do: convince me I’m going loopy?’

  This made Ryan laugh. ‘Don’t worry, you’re not. It was real, I promise. That’s part of what they do: disappear the same way they appeared, blending back into the crowd. It’s all part of the flash mob experience. Anyway, we have witnesses to prove it really happened.’ He waved at someone behind me and, when I turned around to see who, my eyes landed on a teary Cara. She was walking towards me with her arms outstretched for a hug, followed by an equally emotional Kelly and then Jeremy, whose eyes also looked watery.

  ‘You three were in on this?’ I said after we’d greeted each other and got the initial shock and excitement out of the way.

  ‘Yep, sorry,’ Cara said as Ryan’s parents nodded and shrugged. ‘It was hard not to say anything, but Ryan swore me to secrecy – and the last thing I wanted to do was ruin the surp
rise.’

  ‘Did you all come in together?’

  Cara nodded. ‘Kelly and Jeremy were good enough to give me a lift. We’ve been so excited, haven’t we?’

  ‘You’re not kidding,’ Jeremy said, rolling his eyes. ‘Honestly, these two in the car. I could have done with some earplugs for all the squealing.’

  ‘Your face was a picture, Rose,’ Kelly added. ‘Oh, I’m so glad you said yes. It’s wonderful that you’re going to be an official member of the family soon. When do you think the wedding will be?’

  ‘Hold your horses, Mum,’ Ryan added. ‘Give us a chance to talk everything through first.’

  ‘Sorry.’ She fanned herself with her hand. ‘I’m just so thrilled. What a shame that your dad wasn’t able to make it today, Rose. He was invited, of course, but he was busy with some work stuff. Not to worry, though, Jeremy recorded the whole thing on his camera phone, didn’t you, love? You didn’t mess it up, did you?’

  Jeremy shook his head wearily. ‘No, I already told you, Kelly. It’s fine. I’m perfectly capable of making a video recording; thanks for the vote of confidence.’

  Kelly planted a kiss on her husband’s cheek, ruffling his hair, and adding with a wink to everyone else: ‘Well done, you. I’m sure you’ve done a great job of it. Now take your grumpy hat off and enjoy the moment. You’ve got the pleasure of buying everyone lunch next.’

  ‘Actually, I don’t,’ Jeremy said. ‘I didn’t tell you this yet, Kelly, but I had a phone call from Dave earlier. He apologised again for not being here, insisting that he would pick up the bill for all of us to have lunch in Manchester today.’

  Kelly beamed at this news. ‘Oh, that’s nice of him. What a gentleman your dad is, Rose. You must say a big thank-you to him for us all when you get home.’

  ‘Sure,’ I replied. ‘Will do.’

  I wondered why on earth he hadn’t come. I struggled to believe he was genuinely that busy with anything that he couldn’t find time to watch this. What was the point in being his own boss if he couldn’t use this flexibility when required? I worried that he hadn’t wanted to see it, having still not come to terms with the two of us being back together.