Forever More

by Rachel De Lune

  “We will get back to you being at my beck and call. Right now, I need you to believe in us, and in me.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise. Now, I know I said that we can wait on the house stuff, but if you get bored on your iPad, you can always start having a look at what you’d like.” Without the pressure of having to move, the prospect of window shopping seems good.

  Seb’s busy in his study for part of Sunday, so I take the opportunity to look online to see what’s on the market in the form of a potential new house. I don’t even know what we should be looking at, so I just type in ‘Bath’ and ‘3 bedrooms’ and hit search.

  Dozens of pages of results are returned, but seeing the first few ‘student’ types, I quickly add some numbers to my search criteria. I know how much Seb’s apartment must cost. This part of Bath isn’t cheap, and the space is amazing. I don’t even know if he rents this or owns it. He must own it, surely. Too many questions bubble through my mind so I set about quieting them. I pick up my iPad and walk towards Seb’s study.

  I haven’t been in here since the first time he showed me around, and he hasn’t been in here a lot of the time since I moved in. I slow my approach as I reach the door, my heartbeat picking up pace as I wonder if I should knock. Playing it safe, I tap softly on the wooden door.

  “Izzy, you don’t need to knock.” Seb’s answer is immediate and a relief. I crack open the door and slip inside. His laptop is open in front of him with a few sparse papers littered over the desk surface. The study matches everything else in the apartment. “You okay, sweetheart?” Seb looks at me, a hint of concern in his voice. I clutch the iPad to my chest and fidget at the door. There isn’t another chair in the room and the desk dominates the space, situated dead centre in the room. Seb seems to understand my hesitance and nudges back from the desk. He pats his lap, telling me exactly where he wants me.

  Once I’m settled, I begin my quest for answers. “What kind of place did you have in mind for us to look at?” I start with a general opener, knowing that Seb will have some clear parameters to work with.

  “Do you mean in terms of the number of bedrooms or the type of house?”

  “Well, both. All of it really. We haven’t talked about what we’d like.”

  “I thought you didn’t like the idea.”

  “I haven’t changed my mind, but I wanted to take a peek at what we could rent when the time comes. I’ve only had the house I had with Phil.”

  He pulls me closer so his lips rest against the pulse in my neck. “Right now, I want a bigger study so I can lie you across my desk and eat you up.” His tongue snakes out and licks my throat. Sparks dance down my spine and straight to my pussy. How does he do that to me?

  His grip tightens around me, but his trailing hands and tongue move no further. “As much as I want you on my desk, I have to get through a lot of prep before I leave. If I get it done now, I won’t be away for more than a couple of nights.”

  I try to keep the frown off my face, but my lips seem to be pouting of their own accord.

  “Did you want to ask me anything else?”

  Seb gives me one of his sexy smiles. Mischief flashes across his eyes, glinting blue and green.

  “Would you be okay selling this place?”

  “Sweetheart, we don’t need to sell the apartment. I don’t intend to sell it even when we buy a house together, let alone rent. I own this place outright. Look and see what you like and then we can talk details later.” He eases me from his lap, signalling the end of this conversation. He’s replaced my questions with more unanswered ones.

  I leave and head back to the lounge. I close the search down and busy myself with my social media playground for the rest of the afternoon.

  Sunday creeps into Monday and I’m kissing Seb goodbye. He’ll be back Wednesday so it’s only a few days at work to suffer through.

  Despite all of the concessions he’s made, the check-ins still stand when he’s away from me. This time, I’m determined to make it fun. Despite not wanting to commit to something so big as a new place together, I see my future with Seb. So the idea of working out what he would like, what I would like, in a future home seems fun. I use the search I started yesterday and start sending him some options. As well as getting some much-needed information from him for the future, it is a way to keep things light between us. I’m excited, and for the first time, I look forward to our text talk.

  By 2:00 p.m., I’m out of saved searches. I’ve also been un-productive, not something that I want to replicate. Mark is giving me more and more responsibility, and I don’t want to let him or my clients down. Campaigns move so quickly you can’t afford to be distracted. I allow myself today, sternly telling myself that tomorrow will be a better workday.

  I pull up my search history from my iPad and refresh the search, pulling only newly listed properties. A beautiful sandstone townhouse sits in my results. With three bedrooms, it’s close to work and has a floor plan that will work. My smile betrays my own excitement as I pull up the photos of the property. It has spacious rooms, and it’s newly refurbished with all the room we could need. The layout is across three floors and would be ample for us. I look at the price and wince. It’s in a ‘stupid money’ bracket. I send it to Seb anyway, although my excitement has deflated.

  Seb has responded with quick, sharp texts to all of the houses I’ve sent him so far. I wait for his incoming message but it doesn’t come. I click back through the images, picturing us in the rooms. Would this be what I want?

  I call Seb, wanting to explain that the last house was a joke and that I can’t see us spending that much money on a property that we’re only going to be in temporarily. It rings through to his voicemail and I’m stabbed by disappointment.

  “Hi. Will you call me? Speak later.” I hang up after leaving my short message, close the iPad and try to concentrate on work. My phone vibrates and I snatch it up.

  Where do you want to go tomorrow? Addisons OK? Jess

  Sure, l want to shop first though. So 5?

  See you then x

  Before I lock my phone, I fire off a message to Seb.

  Are you busy? I’m sorry if I was silly with the last house. Txt me back. Izzy.

  An hour later, I finally hear my phone again.

  I’ll call you later. In a meeting. S

  I fight down my disappointment and get on with what’s left of the afternoon.

  Two glasses of wine on an empty stomach have not helped my disappointment and frustration that I’ve still not talked to Seb. It’s past 7.30 p.m. and I’ve had nothing back since the text stating he was in a meeting. If the situation were reversed, he’d have dragged me out of my meeting by now and probably spanked me until I was sobbing. Finally, the phone I’m holding with a death grip vibrates to life in my hand.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Izzy, I’m just calling to say it’s going to be a little longer before I can talk to you. I’ll call you later.” I can hear muffled voices in the background, but above them all, the unmistakable sound of a woman’s voice calling for Seb. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Seb…” The line disconnects before I can say anything.

  At least there were other voices. My mind is thinking positively for now. I pour the remnants of my glass of wine in the sink and make myself a quick sandwich. Why is he still in a meeting? Who’s he with? Are these the thoughts of every woman who’s in love, or just the ones who started their relationships with an affair?

  After this afternoon, I’ve only texted a couple of times. Rationally, I know that he’s busy at work, but he knows how I hate having to comply to this rule. We really need to discuss one another’s expectations for when he’s away. One step forward, two back.

  I’m just leaving. I’ll call you in 5 minutes. Seb

  It’s just past nine. Although every single scenario has gone through my mind, I know that I’m being foolish. Seb loves me and I need to learn how to trust again.

  “Hello?”
/>
  “Hello, Izzy. I’m sorry about today. I got stuck with a client.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you alright?”

  “Not really.”

  “What’s wrong? I’m sorry that I’ve been busy, but you know I have to be away.”

  “I know, I do… who were you with this late?” I hold my breath for his answer.

  “Samantha is the FD of the company I’m working with. I’ve been in back-to-back meetings all day.” He doesn’t elaborate, and I know I have let my past suspicion cloud my belief in Seb.

  “Did you get my messages? I wanted to explain that the last one was a joke.”

  “I did, but I didn’t think it was a joke. It has potential.”

  What? “Really? But it’s so much money.”

  “I told you that doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, it does. I can’t afford anywhere close to that, even after the house is sold.”

  “We’ll talk more about this when I’m back, but please trust me on the money front.”

  “Are you a secret millionaire and haven’t told me?”

  “No.” He chuckles. “I do have some significant investments, though, and I’m more than comfortable. Please, just look for a house that you think you could call home. And thank you for looking for options.”

  “I might not be ready to commit to moving in, but I will one day. I feel like I’m getting to know your tastes better. You really like the one I sent?”

  “I think I’ll want something more open plan for our real house. I want us to be together in a home that we can call ours. That’s my goal.”

  “Okay.”

  “I promise I’ll be available whenever you call tomorrow. I love you. I’ll see you Wednesday.”

  “I love you, too. I’ll try and keep you posted.”

  “Good night, sweetheart.”

  I order two take-away coffees and wait at the table by the door. Jess is running late, but we have plenty of time to browse for shoes. And by browse, I mean Jess trying to convince me not to spend a week’s wages on a pair of shoes.

  After speaking with Seb last night, I started looking on a few other sites to find a house that Seb would like as well. There was one, still with a stupid price tag, but the townhouse had an open plan feel on the ground floor thanks to some recent renovations. I sent it to Seb this afternoon and he’s been positive about it. He’s hardly a smiley face kind of guy, but ‘that’s more like it, space to have my way with you’ was definitely a move in the right direction.

  “Oh, sorry I’m late.” Jess bustles into the coffee shop, sits down next to me and grabs the coffee waiting for her.

  “Bad day?” I ask.

  “Not especially. Well, partly. Doesn’t matter.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Just work stress. I’m looking forward to getting some time with you, though. Come on.”

  We get up and start walking towards Milsom Street. I’ve made Jess my shoe shopping partner on many occasions and she knows the drill. We browse windows before heading swiftly to the Selfridges shoe department, search for a pair that catches my eye and then weigh the pros and cons. The cons usually consist of the cost.

  “Seriously, Izzy. Don’t you have a million pairs of heels?”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t need another pair. Come on. Why don’t you try some on? There is nothing better than finding the perfect pair of heels. It’s like unlocking a magic box of confidence and sprinkling it all over you.” I turn my heel this way and that in the mirror, trying to decide if the Alexander McQueen court shoes are the ones for me.

  “I like shoes, just not enough to spend hundreds of pounds on a single pair.”

  “You just haven’t found the right shoe. Come on, Cinderella. Let’s find you your magic. You never buy any when we shop.”

  “Izzy…” She groans at me as I pull her along behind me, surveying the options on display.

  “Okay, let’s start small. Black patent leather. Look, not too pricey and they go with anything.” I wave the classic under her nose and her eyes brighten a fraction. Gotcha!

  I order two gin and tonics as we’re seated at the table. It’s just past 6:30 p.m. and the restaurant is still quiet. We nestle our newly purchased shoes at our feet and start looking over the menu.

  “So, Seb’s away. How are you doing?”

  I smile at her, unable to contain my grin. “We’re having fun texting.”

  “So everything’s back to normal?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. More like we’re acknowledging that it’s not going to be smooth and happy all the time. We’re finding a few bumps.”

  “I told you that’s fine. Don’t panic.”

  “I know, and I think that I can see that now. It’s alright that we’re finding our feet. It doesn’t mean that we love each other any less. He keeps reminding me that we didn’t have a conventional start but that it doesn’t matter.” I smile at her and really feel the meaning behind those words. Finally, I can see it’s alright. Our story will play out like it should, but the point is that it’s our story.

  “Well, I’m really happy for you. You deserve it. And he’s alright about putting the brakes on the house?”

  “Yes, although I did start looking at what options we had. I’m thinking of it like window shopping and looking is actually quite fun.” I can’t help beaming at her. I jump to the edge of my seat and lean in towards her. “I found this one house, it’s a renovated townhouse in the centre, just off of Pulteney Road. Jess, it’s gorgeous. Open plan on the ground floor with an immaculate kitchen, a massive master bedroom on the first floor and two more upstairs.”

  “Wowzers, that’s got to cost.” She raises her eyebrows and proceeds to down her gin.

  “I know, it does and we’ll have to talk properly about bills and stuff once the divorce is settled. It’s actually got me feeling excited, which is stupid because I didn’t think I was ready. Can I get excited? I can, right?” The yearning is clear in my voice.

  “Of course you can. It should be an exciting time for you. Don’t hold back because you’re not sure what you should be feeling.” Her words pull on the torrent of feelings that have been plaguing me over the last weeks.

  “Sometimes I don’t know which way is up. My emotions and feelings have been going from flat and predictable to a rollercoaster. It’s not that easy, Jess. My cheating husband has turned into an abusive stranger. The man I love moves me in, imposes rules which I struggle to follow despite wanting to please him, and I have yet to learn how to trust Seb being away when all I can do is think about all the times that Phil said he was working. There’s been a lot. Sometimes I wonder why Seb puts up with me at all.”

  “He loves you. Hold on to that. Yes, it’s complicated and scary and you have a shit ex to get rid of, but boil it all down to the fact that you love each other and are moving forward.”

  “How are you always the voice of reason?”

  “I can spout it. Doesn’t mean I have to follow it.”

  “Talking of, how’s Greg?”

  “Like I said the last time, fine. There’s nothing to say. We’ve been on a few dates.”

  “Okay, I’ll leave it. Do you want another?” I look at her empty glass and signal to a waiter. “I’m starving as well. Can we order?”

  “Go for it.”

  We settle into our usual girly chitchat and talk the evening away. I text Seb on my way home.

  How was your evening? S

  Jess and I had a good time. It was nice to catch up. Izzy

  Thank you for keeping me in the loop. S

  I know we’re trying to find our feet, but you said it helps you not worry. I would never do anything to spite you. Izzy

  As the taxi pulls up outside the apartment, my phone rings and I see Seb’s gotten fed up with the ping-pong.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, where are you?”

  “I’m just walking up to the apartment building.”

  “Good.” I let myself
in and call the lift.

  “I’m in the lift now. I’ll be inside in a minute.”

  “Understand me, Izzy. I know you’d never do anything to upset or hurt me. You want to please me and that causes you a certain amount of confusion. Don’t worry, I’ll be patient. I’m out of my depth with how I feel towards you sometimes, and it’s not the most reassuring place for me. I like being in control, and when I can’t be, I don’t handle it well. It’s not an excuse, but as you’re trying to be honest, I need to as well.” His words spear my heart and I struggle to hold back the tears that threaten. Seb has validated everything I’m concerned about and I feel safe and reassured.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, my emotions closing my throat and making it hard for me to speak. I dive out of the lift and rush to the front door.

  “Izzy, are you still there?”

  “Mm-hmm.” I close the door and slump into Seb’s chair, curling in on myself. I clutch the phone to my ear, suddenly desperate for any contact with the man I love.

  “Talk to me, sweetheart. I can’t see you or hold you.”

  “I’m relieved,” I choke out. “Hearing those words… It really helps.”

  “I’m looking forward to talking when I’m home tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I love you.”

  “I love you too, sweetheart.”

  It’s been a long week. Work has been crazy busy, and Mark is encouraging me to take on even more client projects. I love the additional responsibility and control that Mark affords me with the team.