by Hayley Oakes
“Oh when?” I furrowed my brow.
“Next week,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Wow, right.” I sighed, “I’ll miss her.”
“We fly Monday,” she clipped out.
“You going to see your foster dads in Spain?” I asked, rubbing my forehead, this was a fucking mess.
“Yes,” she didn’t elaborate.
“I didn’t even know Ivy had a passport,” I said, trying to initiate some sort of easy conversation.
“She does, well I better go.”
“Okay, bye Penny.”
“Bye Matt,” she hung up before I could even ask any more questions. I had zero say in where my daughter went, I wasn’t even on the birth certificate and hadn’t rectified that yet, I hadn’t needed to. In fact if Penny decided to make things difficult for me to see Ivy then I would have to go through lengthy and expensive ways to make this work.
I placed my hands on my face and growled, throwing my head back.
Fuck.
They were slipping away, they were going away without me and I was the dad that didn’t get to choose where my girl would be at any given point.
I didn’t feel like my thinking time had paid off, I was just as confused. I wanted Penny just as much as before but I had no idea if it was because of her or because of what I’d lost.
The only difference was that I was starting to wonder if not knowing the answer to that question mattered.
The following Sunday Ben and Chris asked me to the pub to watch the footy in the afternoon. They always asked but I was always busy ... not anymore.
“So how’s family life?” Ben teased when Chris went to the bar. So far we’d discussed the new barmaid’s massive tits, Chris’ wife’s aversion to blow jobs and how much we all hated Man Utd.
I shrugged, “not seeing her anymore.” I blew out a breath through pursed lips.
“You shittin’ me?” Ben asked, “you were all loved up at Ivy’s party.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, “it was casual.”
“Didn’t look casual,” he widened his eyes his eyes, “you seemed really happy, today you seem ... depressed.”
“I’m just adjusting,” I tried to cover it with a dazzling smile and changed the subject, “you up for town later?”
“Nah,” he shook his head, “Gill’s coming in after the game and we’re gonna eat then go home, eat with us?”
“Nah,” I shook my head. Chris rejoined us.
“Larse broke it off with Penny,” Ben used my nickname that rhymed with arse (on purpose) to explain to Chris, they were dicks.
“Oh,” Chris put the beers on the table and stored his bank card in his wallet, “right.”
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he shook his head, “too soon?” he asked.
“No,” I added angrily, “just my mum said ....”
Ben burst out laughing, “Your mum?” he shook his head, “your mum gave you relationship advice.” He couldn’t contain his laughter, “shit!”
“What?” I said with a growl.
“Well she’s great at making lasagne and a cooked brekkie after a night out but relationships ... have you met your dad? He’s the walking advert for downtrodden husband,” he chuckled again, “what did she say?”
“She just said Penny’d had it tough and I needed to be sure I’m with her for the right reasons,” I pulled my pint towards me and took a swig.
“Oh,” Chris said again, “and?”
“What?”
“What did you decide?” Chris watched me warily.
“Obviously decided no,” Ben added unhelpfully.
“I haven’t decided yet,” I pulled my mouth up at the side.
“But you broke it off?” Ben looked confused.
“I told her I needed to think and she went bananas and sort of asked me to leave and I did.” I sighed, it was a mess.
“You wanna hear the man’s guide to whether to stick with a girl or not?” Ben asked.
Chris sat back in his seat, “you mean the man whore’s guide?” he asked with a grin.
“Yeah that!” Ben nodded, “right,” he held up his hand and counted them off on his fingers, “good shag?”
I nodded.
“Fancy the pants off her?”
I nodded.
“Annoying when you’re together?”
I shook my head.
“Needy? Whiny? Abusive? Makes your skin crawl?”
I shook my head.
“Miss her when you’re not together?”
I nodded.
“Think of someone else when you shag?”
I shook my head.
“Well she just passed the test, you’re a dick.” He took a huge glug of his pint and looked very pleased with himself.
“I think what your mum meant is are you ready to move on after losing your wife and be extra careful with her feelings ‘cos she’s been through a lot,” Chris sighed, “seems like that last one you didn’t handle too well and the first one only you know.”
“You’ll always miss Jem,” Ben started, “it’s like being dumped, takes longer to get over because the reason your relationship ended is beyond your control but I always think the best way is to find someone else who helps you forget, did she?”
I nodded again and looked down at the table solemnly, “I was worried mum was right and I’d break her heart so I suppose jumping ship seemed for the best.”
“No one knows if their relationship will last, you gotta live for now and what feels good,” Chris sighed, “what happened with Jemma was shit and let’s be honest things weren’t great before she died so you felt guilty and all that but you deserve to be happy and you should just be happy and stop worrying about whether things will work out forever.”
“Well I think I had my chance and I’ve blown it,” I added glumly, “they fly to Spain tomorrow for a week without me.”
“Do you love her?” Ben asked.
“Shit Ben,” Chris hissed, “you’re such a dick.”
“What?” Ben feigned innocence, “it’s shit that your wife died but you’re allowed to find happiness again and do you love this chick?”
I thought about it, the times I’d been happiest recently were with her and that included the last year of my marriage. She made me laugh, made me smile and made me feel comfortable and horny. She and Ivy were my happy place and I felt so proud of who she was and when she was with me I loved her being mine.
“Yeah, I love her,” I sighed again, I’d fucked up.
“Ignore your mum and let your cock have some fun and if you’re happy why question it?” Ben turned to the football, “we invited you to watch the footy not chat shit like a bunch of girls.”
“You started it,” I told him.
“You looked like a wet weekend in Bournemouth and I knew I was needed to sort shit out,” he rolled his eyes at me, “stop feeling guilty for being happy and just embrace it.”
“Sigmund Freud, ladies and gents,” Chris laughed at Ben, “you should consider a career change, I think the suicide rate would go up.” Chris shook his head with a smile.
“Just trying to fast track the happy ending knobhead,” he told Chris.
“I’m not sure there’s a way back now though,” I said glumly, finishing my pint, “another round?” I asked them.
“There’s always a way back,” Ben grinned, he should know, he’d had more second chances than Wayne Rooney, “you just gotta go big!”
“Or tell her how you feel?” Chris added with a wary smile. “Please stop taking advice from your mum and boy wonder over there,” he pointed to Ben.
“Go big or go home,” Ben shouted as I walked to the bar.
I got my wallet out, ordered the beers and wondered what the hell Penny and Ivy were doing for the hundredth time and cursed myself for the way I’d handled things.
Penny was a fighter, this would not be easy. I loved my daughter, I loved the time I spent with them both and Ben was right, I loved Pe
nny but I was too shit scared to admit it to myself because it meant that my life with Jemma was replaced.
I would never be her husband again and admitting that someone else was my life meant letting her go one more time.
I may have found Penny by default and it may have been easy because she was Ivy’s mum but the reasons I fell for her weren’t because of that, they were in spite of that. She was tough and caring, hard working and determined and she made me want to be with her all of the time. She made my body explode with need and she was the best Mummy my little girl could ask for.
I didn’t want anyone else.
She, on the other hand, probably wanted anyone but me right now.
Chapter 35 - Jemma
THEY’D TIDIED HER UP as best they could. Cleaned away the blood and brushed her tangled hair so it sat neatly behind her face.
The skin on her face wasn’t even broken, just bruised. It was as if she hadn’t been hurt at all.
It was pale and greying, she was cold to the touch.
This was how he would see her for the last time.
Her eyes were closed like she was asleep but her mouth was set in a hard line, not the smirk and pursed lips of how she usually slept. Dreaming of things that she couldn’t touch but could grasp in her subconscious.
He went to identify her body alone.
He left his house shortly after ringing his parents but didn’t wait for them to arrive.
He didn’t believe it at first, he thought it must be a joke or her way of getting him back for being such an arsehole. Even her way of having a clean break, of leaving him without the hassle of separating all their stuff. However when the policeman drove him to the hospital morgue he knew it was true. She was laid out there, ready for the post-mortem they told him they had to do.
He walked into the cold room to identify her, and the side of her face was all he needed to see as he instantly recognised the profile of his wife. “It’s her,” he said on a whisper, hoping they were audible words.
At that moment he didn’t feel alone, not because the policeman was in the room, not because a doctor stood nearby, no. He didn’t feel alone because in a strange way he felt her with him. Her face flashed in his mind, the shy smile when he first noticed her at the takeaway where they met, the grin when he told her how beautiful she was when he took her on their first date. Her smirk when she saw him as he waited for her after her classes. Her eyes rolled back in ecstasy when he used to ravish her though the night because he couldn’t get enough of her.
He felt the spirit of her with him and a calm settled over him as if this was the way it was always supposed to end.
He stepped forward calmly and took her freezing cold hand. He sat on the stool that had been placed by her side and just looked at her. He looked at every inch of her face and stored it in his memory, he bent and kissed her temple and the emotion filled his heart, tears started to fall and he took a deep breath to try and let some air into his lungs.
“Jemma,” he said, lost yet at the same time strangely grounded, “I’m so sorry,” he bent his head and leaned it on her arm as the tears started to fall.
He held her hand and cried softly, letting the reality sink in and the harsh words of earlier wash over his conscience. He had lost her a while ago, but it didn’t seem final then, he always felt like he could pull it back. Like he could hook her back and bring her back to him when he felt ready. He was punishing his brown-eyed girl for wanting something more than she wanted him but he did intend to make it right ... one day. That day had been replaced by now.
He wasn’t pushed to leave but at some point he decided it was time. He stood, he looked down at her one last time and he swallowed hard knowing it was the last time he’d be this close to her and he committed her to his memory because that’s where she would live now. That’s where he would see her, speak to her and hold her ... in his mind’s eye.
He decided the summer before they even kissed that she was the girl he would marry. He never expected that one day he’d be forced to say goodbye, not like this.
He sniffed, wiped his nose with his sleeve and touched her brow one last time, “I’ll live this life for both of us, Jem, I promise.”
He promised the girl he met seventeen years before. He promised the girl who had been his life and not the woman he’d grown to hate.
He walked out of the room and his mum shot up from a waiting seat as he entered the corridor, “Matthew,” she squeaked, tears streaming down her face. “Oh God,” she took one look at his face and broke down, her baby, her little boy was broken. “Jemma,” she uttered, crying and holding her son like he wasn’t six foot and a good five inches taller than her.
His dad was there too and he just engulfed both of them in a hug, his own body wracking with sobs. Matt felt their love radiating into him and he leant on them, his body sagged with grief.
That day he accepted her fate, he accepted what had happened but he also accepted the guilt that came with the last words between them being heated and hateful.
He was handed her personal effects, they had been found in the car. The other driver was in intensive care and it wasn’t clear whether he would survive.
He walked out with her jewellery and her handbag, her iPhone was cracked but the screen was still working.
When he got home, he plugged it in on her side of the bed and picked it up. He pressed the messages and saw that he was about seventh down on the list which just proved how far down the pecking order he had become in her life. He saw messages from a man, he swallowed hard and closed his eyes, he didn’t have the energy to open them just yet.
Instead, he was drawn to his own name in her phone, Hubby, and when he opened the message that had just been about asparagus, he saw it.
The message that she had meant to send only hours before but never got to.
I love you
He broke down, tears marring his vision and large droplets falling onto the sweat pants he’d hastily pulled on hours before, as he sat on the edge of their bed. He dropped his head and let every dark thought invade him and his emotions took total control. He held the ruined phone to his temple and shook with pain.
“I love you too,” he said to the empty room.
He laid the phone on his lap and pressed send, he sent himself the message and told himself that she meant it. He had no idea how long the message had been there ready to send but he hoped it was after their fight, after her night out and he hoped in her final moments she never doubted his love for her.
He told himself that no matter what he found in the rest of her messages, despite the things she may have done, he would never doubt her love for him. Love was more than words, more than actions in the heat of the moment and more than the rot that set in due to things they couldn’t have. Love was their past, their life together and the memories that superseded the past few years. Love was trusting that no matter what, they could have worked it out.
Chapter 36 -Spain
Penny
“SO LET ME GET it straight,” Leon asked, he was cooking up a storm in the kitchen of their Spanish villa and I was sat at the tall kitchen counter nursing a glass of wine. “You were seeing the father but now it’s over?” he sipped his own wine and glared at me with a lowered gaze.
“Yes,” I hissed, “got it in one.”
“So not only did we not know you were pregnant and planning to give the baby away but we didn’t know you fell for the sperm donor and was seeing him?” Leon pointed his wooden spoon at me and I gave him a wry smile. “You are too secretive for words,” he rolled his eyes.
“You never asked,” I sighed.
“F Y I, what’s new with you means, seeing anyone? Carrying anyone’s baby? Moved house? You know the usual big changes?” He shook his head. “What happened?” he asked in a more sympathetic voice.
“Oh,” I let out a breath through my nose and gave him a sad smile. I smoothed the condensation on my wine glass with my finger, “didn’t want to hurt me, wasn’t
sure how he felt.” I shrugged but tears glossed my eyes. “I’m not his type I suppose and he’s still grieving for his wife.”
“You my dear are everyone’s type!” he tapped the counter top with his wooden spoon, “unless they’re gay,” he smirked, “you are one of life’s timeless beauties, you keep trim and your personality is just too gorgeous for words, it’s him, he’s an idiot.”
Leon was blunt and loud and crazy whereas Gary was the heartfelt pragmatic one of the two of them. Leon was shorter, more rounded and liked to cook. He had a full head of white styled hair, he used to dye it but in his fifties was going au natural. He had kind brown eyes and a razor sharp wit that made every situation manageable.
“I’ll be okay,” I smiled up at him. “I’m fine now.”
“Course,” he nodded, “a week off work in the sun will sort you out, you’ll meet your man and it won’t be as someone’s second best.”
“He never made me feel like second best,” my eyes filled with tears again and emotion became evident in my voice, “or like some foster kid who was fucked up.”
“Language,” he narrowed his eyes and pointed the spoon again.
“You know what, Pen?” he leaned forward on the counter, “I haven’t had the life you have and parts of mine have been hard, realising I was gay and coming out to my parents, that was tough.” He smiled at me with love, “I can’t empathise with the life you had before us but what I can say is that you’re not the only one, you won’t be the last and the thing I see you do time and time again is use the knocks to make you stronger and that makes me proud. This is a blip and it will make you stronger.”
“I’m just tired of the knocks Le,” I told him, wiping away quick tears, “I just wish I didn’t have to keep living things in my life that I need to survive.”
He grinned, “don’t date a widower honey, if you’d have asked me I’d have said stay the hell away. You don’t help yourself.” He pursed his lips and clicked his fingers at the last remark.
I laughed, “you’re right.”
