Take a Moment

by Nina Kaye

  ‘Not a good look, then?’ I attempt a joke to avoid the scrutiny.

  ‘You’re still gorgeous. Obviously. But I’m concerned. It’s not your knee, is it? I forgot you’d had a running injury.’

  Relief at being handed a ready-made excuse floods me like a burst dam. ‘Yeah, sorry, that’s it. Thought I’d be all right, but the hill’s obviously aggravating it.’

  ‘Right. Well, there’s only one solution for this.’

  Before I know it, Matt has scooped me up and set off up the hill again. This immediately transports me back several months to the time Dom did the same in the stairwell to our apartments. Back when I was so reluctant to take any help at all – ever. But here, now, in Matt’s arms, with my fabricated injury, I feel much more comfortable.

  ‘OK?’ he asks, as I cling to his neck.

  ‘Shouldn’t it be me asking you? You’re the one engaged in some kind of Iron Man contest while I dangle gracefully – I hope – in front of you. Sorry about this.’

  ‘I’m pretty fit. I can handle it.’

  ‘I can see that. Do you hire yourself out? I could get used to this.’

  ‘I’m happy to carry you around anytime.’ Matt grins at me, then gently lowers my feet to the ground. I realise we’ve reached the top. ‘There’s another incline a bit further round the trail but it’s much more gradual and my service will be readily available – for a cost.’

  ‘What’s that?’ I raise an eyebrow.

  ‘Another kiss.’

  ‘That makes me feel slightly pimped out, but happy to oblige.’ I reach up, put my arms round his neck and plant a sensual kiss on his lips.

  ‘So… coffee?’ he asks as we pull apart.

  ‘Amazing. Oh, and there’s a nice clearing here we can sit in.’ I pat the ground with my foot. ‘It’s dry enough. Must not have had the same rain we had yesterday.’

  Matt pulls a blanket from his rucksack and gestures for me to sit on it as he pours coffee from a flask into two picnic cups. I watch him, feeling a nagging guilt that I’ve just lied to him. He’s so open and trusting. It’s already as if I’ve known him for much longer. How long can I really pretend for? Or is that a premature concern? If I decide to get back together with Dom, then it won’t matter anyway.

  Chapter 24

  Matt drops me back at my apartment later that afternoon. As I unlock my front door and step inside, I’m dizzy with teenage hormones and utter exhaustion. I take off my trainers and jacket and go straight to my bedroom, where I climb under the covers and allow myself a little indulgence as I relive my date with Matt – and those incredible kisses. Those eyes, his strength in carrying me up that hill, the playful banter that came so easily. We were drawn to each other like Instagrammers to a selfie hotspot.

  But it doesn’t take long for reality to come knocking. Matt’s as addictive as salt and vinegar crisps. No question. But what about Dom? I’m due to meet him in a few hours and I’ve no idea what I’m going to say. The two situations couldn’t be more different. Dom and I are comfortable, familiar, warming; like bread and butter pudding. With Matt, it’s more electric, exciting; exotic fruit salad. They’re both delicious in their own way. On the face of it, comfortable and familiar gets trumped by excitement, but that initial rush never lasts. What kind of relationship would Matt and I settle into, if we even lasted long enough to find out? Then there’s my health. Dom knows about it and still wants me. Would Matt be the same?

  As I’m running these thoughts through my head, I can feel myself drifting off to sleep and I don’t even try to fight it.

  * * *

  By 6:30 p.m., after waking up groggy and woolly-headed, I’m showered and changed, and feeling more refreshed. But the nagging feeling of not knowing what to say to Dom is still hanging over me – a slightly sick feeling in my gut. Just as I’m zipping my lipstick and eyeliner into the inside pocket of my handbag, there’s a knock at my door. I pad through to the hallway, peer through the peephole and unlock the door.

  ‘You’re really not for using the buzzer, are you?’ I say to Dom in place of a greeting.

  ‘Someone let me in again.’ He shrugs.

  ‘I’m going to guess that you don’t like feeling like a visitor.’

  ‘You know me too well. We did used to live together, so it doesn’t feel right. You look beautiful, by the way.’

  He steps forward and gives me what initially seems to be a lingering kiss, then pulls back as suddenly as before. It’s a smart tactic and leaves me wanting more. I touch my lips gently, feeling guilty about how good it felt when I was doing the same with Matt just hours earlier.

  ‘I’ve got a taxi waiting outside,’ he says, before I can say anything. ‘Ready?’

  ‘Oh, are we going far?’

  ‘Nope. But I thought it would be better to conserve your energy.’

  As much as another walk is the last thing I feel like after this afternoon, I can’t help feeling a bit irked that Dom hasn’t let me decide what I think is best for me.

  We head downstairs and get into the waiting cab. It meanders its way through the residential streets, joining the main road just before the Five Ways roundabout, and I realise I have no idea where we’re going.

  ‘What restaurant have you booked?’

  ‘You’ll see.’ Dom has a glint in his eye that tells me he’s up to something. ‘Just sit back and relax.’

  Minutes later, the taxi pulls into a wide driveway and comes to a stop outside an impressive white Georgian-style building with bay windows, and what looks like beautifully landscaped gardens (though it’s hard to see in the dark).

  ‘This looks posh.’ I raise an eyebrow at Dom.

  ‘It’s a long time since I took you for dinner. Figured I owe you a good one.’

  He pays the driver and we head inside, where we’re greeted by solid dark wooden floors, white walls and tastefully art-bedecked walls. The lighting is low, creating a romantic feel, and there’s an autumnal scent that smells a bit like fig and sandalwood in the air. The super-polite hostess immediately welcomes us with a broad smile and invites us to take a seat in the lounge for an aperitif. We’re shown to one of the tables in the bay window, where we make ourselves comfortable.

  ‘What would you like to drink?’ Dom asks me.

  I look around for a drinks menu but there doesn’t seem to be one.

  ‘Gin and tonic?’

  ‘Um… sure. So you still drink alcohol—’

  ‘Yes, Dom. It’s not going to kill me. I’ve set myself a two-drink limit, which I live by.’

  He looks at me uncertainly for a moment, then turns to the hostess. ‘One of your best local gins with Fevertree, and I’ll take a Campari and orange. Oh, and can we look at the menu now?’

  ‘Of course, sir.’ The hostess backs away and disappears from the room.

  ‘What’s this place called?’ I ask.

  ‘Addington’s.’

  ‘Haven’t heard of it.’ I take out my phone and google it. ‘Dom. This is a Michelin starred restaurant. What are you doing? It’ll cost a fortune.’

  ‘Sshh.’ He chuckles. ‘Here come our drinks.’

  I quickly put my phone away and thank the waiter as he serves our drinks and hands us a menu each, then melts into the background as quickly as the hostess.

  ‘Cheers.’ Dom holds out his glass and I clink it.

  ‘Cheers. This place is incredible. You shouldn’t have done this.’

  I glance up from my menu and catch him gazing at me adoringly. It’s a look I was so used to until a few months ago – and that I missed so badly when he disappeared from my life.

  ‘Stop it,’ I complain. ‘You’re making me uncomfortable.’

  ‘Am I?’ He reaches across and takes my hand, stroking it affectionately.

  ‘OK, not really. But it’s just a bit weird having no contact for ages, and now this.’

  ‘Sorry, you’re right.’ His expression neutralises but he keeps hold of my hand, squeezing it gently. ‘I’ve just really
missed you, kitten. You don’t mind me calling you that, do you? What’s a few months apart when we had six amazing years before that?’

  ‘I guess… I don’t know. Maybe I need to get used to you again. You know, sniff you like a dog.’

  ‘And that’s why I love you. Your ability to ruin a moment with an image of us sniffing each other’s arses.’

  I stifle a snigger. ‘That’s not what I meant. I meant like when you hold your hand out to a dog to let it get used to you before you pat it.’

  ‘I know. I just like to see you squirm.’

  ‘You bugger.’

  ‘How was your date earlier?’

  ‘Oh, err… it was… fine.’

  ‘Just fine?’

  ‘Dom, please.’

  ‘I’m just keen to understand the competition. Because he is competition. I can tell by the way you’re acting.’

  ‘It’s not… I can’t… now you’ve really got me squirming in my seat. Did you bring me here to do this?’

  ‘No. Definitely not. But we both know you went on a date earlier. Just talk to me. We’re both adults. You know I dated during our time apart. A couple of dates started well and I thought I saw some kind of potential. But as I got to know them, I realised they weren’t right for me. And that you are.’

  I take a sip from my drink and swallow uncomfortably. ‘OK. We went for a nice walk in a forest—’

  ‘Romantic.’ Dom nods approval. ‘He’s a smooth one. Tell me more about him.’

  ‘OK. His name is Matt. He’s… outdoorsy, has a sense of humour… I’m not sure what else to say.’

  ‘Did you kiss him?’

  I redden. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Hey, it’s OK, kitten.’ Dom squeezes my hand. ‘I can’t expect you to drop your new life the moment I turn up. Obviously, I’d prefer you weren’t seeing someone else, but that’s how it is.’

  ‘And you’re hoping I’ve chosen you.’

  ‘I think that’s clear.’

  ‘You certainly seem to be the Dom I always knew. So confident, laid back; a grafter but always able to make everything look so easy. What happened to us?’

  Dom shrugs and I see the slightest twinge of emotion in his face. ‘You had a life-changing diagnosis and I didn’t handle it well. Seems that I’m not entirely unshakeable after all.’

  ‘That makes two of us. I was so stubborn, I’ve realised that now. It’s still hard, feels unnatural, but I know that I have to let people support me.’ I catch his eye. ‘It just needs to be appropriate support.’

  ‘Of course.’ He nods automatically and I can tell that he hasn’t really taken in what I’ve said. ‘Does that mean having your mum and sister back in your life?’

  ‘They know they can be in my life if they accept me being here. They’ve chosen not to. In their heads that’s their way of showing they care but it also shows how much they want to control my life and choices, and I’m not up for that.’

  ‘I hear you. Hopefully they’ll chill out after a bit, especially if they know I’m down here looking after you.’

  My breath stutters in my throat. Though it wasn’t quite an assumption, the language jars with me: like Dom is my saviour and the solution to all my problems. I’ve made this change in my life myself and it’s worked out so far. My mother and my sister are only part of the picture.

  Realising I’m being oversensitive, and sorely aware of my track record in this area, I cast this thought aside and make an effort to continue the conversation without judgement.

  ‘Sir, madam, are you ready to go to your table?’ Yet another member of staff has materialised out of nowhere.

  We drain our drinks, get up from our seats and follow him through to the restaurant.

  * * *

  Our meal is outstanding. The immaculate and colourful presentation of the food wows us, while the array of textures and flavours sends our taste buds into orbit. It’s not just the different dishes we choose, but all the little extras: the freshly home-baked breads with artisan butter, the amuse-bouche, the pre-dessert. It’s such an indulgent experience, I’m not even bothered by having to stick to my two-drink limit. I feel well and truly spoiled by the experience, and Dom is the perfect gentleman, showering me with affection and compliments. It’s just like we were, but with the extra excitement of spending time together after so long apart. I can feel a longing inside of me to spend the night together, to be physically close to him as well as connecting again emotionally. Yet I’m also aware that something’s still not quite right. Under different circumstances, I’d have no reason not to give Dom and me as a couple another go. Sasha and my family would certainly approve. The problem is: I can’t get Matt out of my head.

  ‘Madam, your dessert.’ The waiter expertly places a beautifully presented dish in front of me. ‘This is the dark chocolate and chestnut tartlet, with pomegranate coulis, pistachio meringue shards and sweet pumpkin foam.’

  ‘It looks delicious.’ I turn the plate to get a proper look.

  ‘Sir, for you, the artisan cheese plate with charcoal crackers and our signature chutneys made with ingredients from our own allotment.’ The waiter explains Dom’s selection of cheeses and chutneys in the same way the sommelier described the wine options to him earlier.

  ‘So, have you enjoyed this?’ Dom asks me once the waiter has left our table.

  ‘I’m still enjoying it. This tartlet is off the scale. I’ve never tasted anything so scrumptious.’

  ‘I’m glad. And what about us? Where are we?’

  I stop mid-chew. We’ve been having such a nice time catching up and just enjoying each other’s company, I’d almost forgotten this dinner comes with a big fat obligation.

  ‘Gosh, you just threw that one out there, didn’t you?’

  ‘Did I? I thought we were clear that this was what tonight was about.’

  ‘Well, yeah, obviously. But I thought the big chat would come after dinner.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can wait that long for your answer.’

  I feel a rush of empathy for him, quickly followed by a tidal wave of guilt. ‘Right, that’s fair. I guess… well, I’ve had such a lovely evening with you. It’s almost like we’ve never had that time apart…’

  ‘I think so too.’ Dom nods.

  ‘…and I still have feelings for you…’

  ‘But are you still in love with me? That’s the biggest question.’ He tilts his head to one side in a puppy dog-like way, making me laugh.

  ‘How could I not be?’

  As I say this, an overwhelming feeling of nausea passes through me. I instinctively get to my feet and Dom does the same.

  ‘Are you OK, kitten?’

  ‘I’m… err… sorry, can you just excuse me for a moment, I’m feeling a little odd.’

  ‘You’re not seeing double or anything, are you?’

  I realise he’s referring to my MS. ‘Oh, no. Nothing like that. Probably just eaten too much.’

  I give him an apologetic look and head for the ladies’ toilets. Inside I’m temporarily distracted by how plush they are, then as my mind slinks back to what’s just happened, that nausea washes over me again. What’s going on? Is it my MS after all? Or am I really just too full from all the food? I run the tap and put my wrists under the flow of the cold water to ground myself and figure out what’s going on. What did just happen? I was enjoying my dessert. Dom was asking about us. About our future. Without warning, my stomach flips uncomfortably. There it is again. It happens every time I think about Dom’s question: where are we?

  But why? I’m still in love with him. He made me so happy before. Why not now?

  Because I’ve changed, a voice in my head informs me. I’ve gone through hell this year and emerged with a new life and a new outlook. I just don’t know if that change means I should be with Dom or with Matt. I need more time. As this realisation hits me, I stare back at my reflection and swallow thickly. This is not going to be an easy conversation. Who wants to be asked: ‘Would you mind if I keep seeing
this other guy for a bit? Just in case he’s actually the one and you’re not?’

  Unable to put off the inevitable any longer, I return to our table and sit myself back down.

  ‘Are you all right, kitten?’ Dom reaches across the table and gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. ‘We can go back to your apartment now if you’re tired.’

  ‘No, no. I’m fine. Think I’m just a bit full.’

  ‘If you’re sure?’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘OK, then.’ He signals something to one of the waiting staff, then focuses his attention on me. ‘You still eating that?’

  ‘I am. But I’m not sure I can finish it. Want a taste?’

  ‘Thought you’d never ask.’ He leans over and takes a forkful of my dessert. ‘Wow, that’s chocolatey. The chestnut complements it really well. Ah, here we are…’

  He acknowledges the arrival of two waiting staff at our table: one who places a flute of champagne in front of each of us; the other, a plate of home-made confectionery with the words ‘Will you marry me? (2.0)’ piped onto it with chocolate. Before I can even register what’s going on, the waiting staff have disappeared, and Dom’s out of his seat and on one knee on the floor.

  ‘Kitten, I’m so happy you’re still in love with me, because I can’t imagine how crushed I would have been if you’d said you weren’t. We were set the ultimate test this year. It did break us temporarily, but now I feel we’ll wind up stronger together. All I want in my future is you: in sickness and health, til death do us part. Will you marry me?’

  It’s my turn to respond and I’m so dumbstruck by what’s just happened, I have no idea how to reply. Dom’s beaming up at me lovingly, arms extended, holding an open ring box, which I note with interest doesn’t contain the same ring I returned to him earlier this year – the diamond is about twice the size.

  ‘So, Lex, what do you say?’ Dom prompts me. ‘Can we resume our future together?’

  I take a deep shaky breath and glance around me anxiously. Thankfully, as our table is situated in a narrow alcove of the conservatory-style dining room, and the table along from us has been vacated, there’s no one within hearing distance.