by Lovell, Dani
"He can't be that worried," I say, my voice weak and wobbly, "he knew I'd be a mess if he left. Why has he gone? Did he say? I need to know, maybe I can make things better? Does he need time?"
Daniel takes a deep breath and exhales slowly before squeezing my hand and responding. "Tilly, he said that you should go on with your life and forget about him. He said he just can't do this."
"No!" I cry, my heart tearing in two again, "he can, he can! I'll help him... Daniel, why can't he see, it'll be okay?"
"Sweetheart, there's more to it than just leaving you. I can't tell you any more than that, I'm so sorry. He loves you, you need to know that he loves you."
"No, if he loved me - he'd be here, keeping me from this agony. How is there more to it? What is it?"
"I.. I just can't say. I'm so sorry, Tilly."
"Will he talk to me? Can I call him?"
Daniel shakes his head. "I don't think so. But listen, Til, I am going to call him non-stop. I am worried about both of you, you both mean a lot to Bea and I and I will do everything I can. I will try so hard to make him see sense and come back, but Tilly, he seems pretty firm on this. He's so confused, but he seems confident that this is the only way forward. I will try my hardest to make him see otherwise."
"Is there someone else in LA?"
"No, no. Nothing like that. He's totally, one hundred percent in love with you, and I can't see that ever changing, but he has issues that he needs to deal with, and he doesn't feel that'll ever be possible. I, however, do, and I will do anything I can. Okay?" I break down again as I nod in defeat. "Come here, sweetheart," he says as he moves forward to embrace me tightly. "We'll be here for you, always. You know that."
I nod again, whimpering and weeping; nearly ten years worth of tears have appeared in the last few months and I feel like I now have an endless supply. I clutch my tummy with both hands, trying to comfort her. I can't help but feel like she's hurting too, like she knows he's left us and it's because of her - I think... I don't even know what or who is the reason. Despite filling up with this beautiful little being, I feel hopelessly hollow. Just so... hollow.
Sitting here, being rocked, soothingly by Daniel, I think about that word... hollow, and one of my favourite songs comes to mind, 'Goodbye my Lover', by James Blunt, and it's all I can think about, the lyrics going round and around in my head. It's painful, terribly painful and I can't sit still anymore; I need to move, to be different, change my position - anything to ease this discomfort; the torturous ache.
I break away from Daniel's embrace to climb off the bed and stand, but I immediately need to put my hands on the bed and bend over, nauseated. I take some deep breaths but feel the churn again at the slightest thought of him. I'm going to be sick.
I stumble to the toilet and bow down as I heave, over and over. I haven't eaten anything since yesterday so it hurts as I wretch, fruitlessly.
"Shit," Daniel shouts as he dashes in to be with me, "Baby!" he shouts loudly, calling for Bea. She appears within a few seconds as Daniel strokes my back and holds back my hair.
"It's okay, doll. It's okay."
Daniel leaves swiftly, thank god, how many men do I have to throw up in front of this Christmas? Bea simply stands with me, holding me, letting me get this over with.
~~~~~~~
Laying in bed with a bottle of water at my side and a slice of toast forced down, I curl up in a tight ball, holding Wriggler. Everyone has left me, except Oliver. He says he's going to stay with me today, and if I don't want to talk, he'll have a kip next to me. He reckons he needs it... wonder why that is.
"Wanna spoon?" he says, making me giggle.
"You won't try and hump me or anything, will you?" I ask, grinning.
"You should be so lucky. Come on, give us a hug."
He makes me want to cry all over again. But I don't, I don't think my body could cope with anymore, my head feels like it's about to explode, my eyes are like pea holes in snow and I have a great, shiny tomato for a nose. Attractive.
I wriggle back against him and he hugs me tight, "Now go to sleep, you look like shit," he says, making me laugh.
"You bitch."
"You could never look like shit, Til, but you do need a bit of a kip. You'll feel a lot better and will be thinking clearer after a sleep."
I nod. "I know. Night night, Olly."
"Night, darling. Sleep tight."
~~~~~~~
Being wrapped up so warm and tight is lovely, as I wriggle and stir. I stretch and turn, and my gut drops as reality returns, Oliver still fast asleep beside me, holding on tightly. For a split second as I woke, I thought it was Luke, I had forgotten what has happened and was blissfully immersed in my dream of his beautiful body enveloping me. And I feel horrible for being so disappointed to see Olly, but I thought for a minute that I was still happy. Olly only reminds me of the ache that doesn't seem to be easing.
His eyes flicker and he stretches, looking at me. "Hiya, you alright?" he asks, sleepily.
"Mmm hmm..." My eyes well up and I bury my face in his chest. He holds me, rocking ever so slightly but remaining silent. Such a true, true friend, I love him dearly.
We stay that way for a good twenty minutes or so, total silence except for my whimpers and sniffles. Eventually, he hands me a tissue box that Bea left on his table. "I think you could use one of these, tears are one thing but do you have to snot on my t-shirt?"
I giggle and take one to blot my eyes and nose. "Cheeky shit."
"Ah, you love me really."
"I do. Thank you, Olly."
"Don't be silly, none of that please, just get on with feeling better."
"I'm not sure I can, I can't think of anything else, he's all I want, I need him. We need him," I say, holding my tummy.
"I know, I know. We'll get him back. So, tell me some more about this baby then, I want to know stuff."
I grin and blow my nose to a hilarious, disgusted look from Oliver, and I begin to tell him everything I know about Wriggler. It's a soothing distraction, because I am always excited to talk about the baby - now that I can, but I still want him here to share the experience with me.
A little later, everyone surprises me by coming up to the room with a late lunch, and eating it in the bedroom with me. It was lovely. I wouldn't have gone downstairs, I don't want to leave my 'Luke' pillow, but I was fully expecting to eat up here on my own, maybe with Oliver if he didn't want a change of scenery; so having everyone eat in here is wonderful and unexpected. I manage to stomach the soup that the girls asked Pam for, it's much easier to eat than a sandwich or something bulky, and I feel a little stronger, having filled my belly.
The rest of the day is spent in bed with Oliver. He does a little work on my iPad, makes a couple of calls and sorts out some business issues back at home, and I doze. I had a bath and changed pyjamas, washing my hair and face to refresh my body. I stood on the balcony for a short while which I thought I would enjoy, but it proved too painful, and I had to return to bed as the tears and memories came speeding back.
I adore Bea and Clare more than anything, they are the most caring friends a girl could ever ask for, but there's something about being with a man that comforts me right now. I can hug him, fully platonically of course, and feel that masculine warmth that no-one but a man can offer. I can spoon him without feeling weird or sexual, and just have that feeling of protection that I get from these boys. They are all similar in that way, go to the ends of the earth to protect the people that they love, and luckily, all of these men love me. It's just a shame one of them can't be near me anymore, for some reason.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
FRIDAY 28TH DECEMBER
"Til, darling, I brought you tea..." Clare's soft voice echoes as I wake, my eyes swollen and heavy to open. And thud. It hits me again. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, attempting to compose myself before I go into meltdown when I haven't even said a word to anyone yet.
I nod and smile, I just know if I open my mouth to speak
, a sob with fall right out onto the pillow. Luke's pillow. I had to swap them so I could smell him, and so Olly didn't change the smell with his own fragrance, it's all I have left of him, apart from the jigsaw heart and my fluffy bunnies that I can't bear to look at.
I sit up and take a sip of the tea, the hot liquid gliding down my cold, tense system. Olly is already awake, drinking his coffee next to me. "Morning," he says, "I think I enjoy this 'playing husband' shit, suits me I reckon. How does it feel waking up next to a stunner like me? Bet you feel like you've hit the jackpot, don't you?"
Instantly the giggles tumble from my body, exactly what I needed. "You'd make a wonderful husband one day Olly, but sadly, not mine. And anyway - how are you playing husband? You have woken up next to many a girl in your time, and you didn't even have sex with this one!"
"I don't spoon, and I definitely don't wake up with my hand on someone’s pregnant belly. I mean, what the fuck? I freaked myself out."
I laugh, "Did you? You were touching my belly?"
"Yes! Keep it away from me."
I have to put my cup down, my body jolting with laughter. "You don't mean that, you're just getting close to your little buddy, you are going to be the best uncle ever, Ols."
"I won't argue," he says, polishing his nails on his t-shirt. "Oh, and next time you want to steal one of my t-shirts, can you nick an old one? I only wore than once and have been looking for it for years, I thought I'd lost the plot!"
Damn it! I've gone forever without him seeing this! "Oh... yeah..." I offer him a cheeky grin and he rolls his eyes.
"Til, I know you want to stay in bed, but we thought we'd all go to Bea and Daniel's today, chill out around there in a different environment. It'll be good for you." Clare says. "And, we could all have a swim or something?"
On the one hand, it sounds great; a change of environment as she says, another exploration of their fabulous house, and a swim in the luxurious pool, but I think I just want to be on my own today - so I can cry it all out without any witnesses and do whatever it is that I need to do. "Actually, I think I might just stay here on my own. But you all go, please, I think I'll have a day to myself."
"Til, no. You have to come with us. We've spent so much of the holiday apart, and we have all missed you a lot. Now we're going to spend the day together, taking care of our Tilly and our baby, okay?"
I smile slightly and nod. "Okay." I really need to force myself to do this, as much as I really don't want to move. Wriggler needs fresh air and so do I.
After they leave me to get ready, the first time I've been properly alone since he left, I try to keep busy. Clothes on, clean the teeth, tidy the mess away, make the bed... sit... smell the pillow... collapse on the bed and hug the pillow... Oh dear, not what I had planned.
I inhale so deeply, trying to almost ingest this little bit of Luke that remains on the pillow. I don't know how I will cope for the rest of my life with his child, knowing he's Daniel's best friend; knowing that Bea will be seeing him regularly and that she'll know his son or daughter, yet he won't.
If he ever comes to London, I'll have to miss out on any social gatherings, for fear of seeing him and knowing that he doesn't want me or my beautiful baby. I will always love him, and seeing his face will be like getting zapped by a taser, 'here's what you can't have, Til, the man you want more than anyone else'. And I'll have to watch him with other women... what if he likes the idea of having a girlfriend, now that he's had one, briefly? What if he brings one to England and she meets all of my friends? Oh dear god, I feel sick again.
I take one last deep breath with my face pressed into his pillow, and place it back on the bed, tearing myself away from it to grab my iPad, handbag and phone and make my way down stairs. It's a fucking pillow, Til. You're not leaving a real life Luke in the bedroom. He's already fucking done that to you.
Arriving at Bea's, we're welcomed at the door with big mugs of spicy chai latte, such a welcome treat after the cold trip from the car to the house. It's freezing today and the snow is coming down in sheets. We curl up in front of the fire and relax with our drinks, canapés already centring the coffee table.
Everyone chats but I find it very hard to concentrate, continuously running through our last few moments together. Why didn't I wake up before he left? Why didn't I hear him packing and stop him? Why didn't I talk to him the previous night about my concerns, instead of leaving it to the morning, when it would be too late? I might have been able to stop him. But what was so bad? I mean he cuddled me, he kissed me over and over, he was holding our unborn baby in his hands... how could he leave that? How could he leave us to do all of this on our own? How could he leave me to feel like this? That bastard! How could he!
I can't sit here anymore, I want to scream or break something, at the very least growl with anger and throw cushions. How dare he leave me like this after telling me he loved me and letting me believe we could do this? I need to excuse myself, and I know where to go.
"Bea, I'm sorry to interrupt, can I please go and sit in the library for a minute? I just need some time on my own, away from noise and talking and everything. I'm sorry, I just need to have a little melt down and I just want to do it alone."
"Oh darling of course, help yourself, spend as long as you like up there. All day if you have to."
I exhale deeply and smile, appreciatively. "Thank you for understanding."
"Of course, go and do what you need to do."
Everyone resumes conversation, refraining from making a fuss, as I stand and make my way out of the room with my bag. I practically sprint up to the library and as soon as I get there I double over, putting my hands on my knees and moaning out loud. I don't know how to keep this pain in, I need to cry and scream and let it out! Noise is the only thing I can think of to do that.
I stand straight and immediately walk straight over to the ladder that we had sex on, and shove it hard. It hurts my hand more than anything but I don't care. "Uh... bastard!" I shout, knowing no one will hear me and glad for the freedom. "Fucking bastard! Arse-hole! Selfish fucking prick! Uh!" I cry, throwing the nearest book I can find at the wall.
Oh shit... that's not mine. I move to go and pick up the book, feeling bad to have damaged one of the books in the beautiful room. Whoops. After careful inspection, I note that the book isn't damaged at all, and I place it on the small table as I drop down in the love seat. Fucking love seat, more like 'stupid-motherfucker-for-falling-in-love'-seat'.
I take my phone out of my bag and go straight to Luke's number, ringing it. I haven't tried so far because Daniel told me what he'd said, but I'm so angry right now. He can't just leave and not give me any answers! What a wimp! It rings and rings, but he doesn't answer, angering me even more, so I stay on the line to leave a voicemail.
"You're a fucking bastard! How dare you! Don't you give two shits about us? No, obviously you don't or you wouldn't have just upped and left in the middle of the night without so much as an explanation! You're a pussy; a stupid, bastard, arse-hole pussy and I fucking hate you for this!" I scream down the phone, the tears of anger running down my cheeks. "I trusted that you loved me, I trusted that you would change for me, I let myself believe we could be a family, a happy fucking family! My poor baby, god knows what he's experiencing in there, I hate that I'm like this with a baby inside me, my baby... your baby... our... baby..." I say, slowing to a halt as I begin to weep down the phone. "I love you so much. I love you... and I hate you. So much, Luke. Why did you go?" I cry, sobbing down the phone as I hang up. It's going to do no good, but I need him to hear it, to know what he's done to me.
I drop my phone on the table and rest my head in my hands, letting go, releasing the overwhelming emotion that has been building up since I left my pillow. This is why I don't have relationships, this is why I didn't want to get involved with Luke again; I knew I'd fall so deep that I couldn't climb out, and that he'd leave me down in that ditch. If he'd have done this the moment I told him, it might have been a little easi
er, I would have understood that he didn't want this, I thought all along that he would probably leave when I told him.
But he was nice - shocked, but nice; lovely in fact. He touched my tummy, he tried to bond a little, talked to the baby, reassured me and made me believe we'll be happy raising Wriggler together. Why did he do all that if he was just going to leave anyway? It makes this so much more painful. The unexpected hurts so much more than my original fear of losing him immediately. Bastard!
I curl up in the chair and cover myself with the big furry blanket draped over the back, trying to calm myself enough to start thinking of my plan for the future. I need to focus on something to get me through, I'm going to have to find somewhere to live. That in itself is a sharp stabbing pain to my system; for the last few days, I've been mentally picturing myself in LA with Luke and have gotten so excited about where we'll live, being close to Gemma and spending weekends together with her and our families. Thinking of having to move out of my maisonette to find somewhere else, on my own, in England is a huge blow.
I could still move to LA to be closer to Gemma, but then I would have more of a chance of bumping into Luke, and knowing he lives so close but hasn't met his own child will hurt like nothing else. If I haven't got him, I need my friends. I need Gemma, too, but I can't live so close, yet feel so terribly far from Luke.
Minutes, probably even a couple of hours pass as I sit in the same position gazing out of that huge round window to my right. Bea opened the door at the bottom of the stairs to my left, a short while ago and brought me up a hot drink and a little bit of lunch. I smiled as she got to the top of the stairs. "Hello, doll," I said, my voice quiet and weak.
She just shook her head and said, "Shh," leaving the food, kissing my forehead and smiling at me before disappearing back down the stairs and closing the door at the bottom. She knows how to deal with me in all sorts of situations, they all do, and considering I never get emotional like this, they are getting it spot-on. I really didn't want to talk - she knew it, and respected it, like the perfect friend that she is.
