The Story of Us

by Dani Atkins

  ‘Well, I don’t know if this is even relevant any more, but I was talking to another estate agency yesterday, who have been handling Jack’s rental place.’

  My hands tightened on the wheel at the mention of his name, but my tone was neutral as I said, ‘Oh yes?’

  ‘I asked if the property was available for the next quarter. You know, just in case he wanted to extend his lease for another term.’

  ‘And was it?’

  ‘Afraid not, my love. In fact, it’s off the letting market completely. Apparently it’s been sold.’

  A long sigh escaped from my lips, like steam through a valve, it was the final confirming nail to hammer in the coffin of my brief relationship with Jack Monroe. ‘Oh well, it’s not important anyway. He’s leaving tomorrow.’

  There was a long silence from the other end of the phone before Caroline’s voice came back, asking carefully, ‘Are you all right, Emma?’

  ‘Me? Yes, I’m fine.’ I was getting really good at lying these days. ‘Why?’

  Caroline again paused before answering. ‘I don’t know… something in your voice… you sounded kind of funny.’

  ‘It must be the phone line,’ I said. ‘Anyway, I’ve got to go, Caro. Thanks for calling, I’ll speak to you soon.’

  By the time I reached his place I was feeling physically sick with nerves. My legs were shaking as I walked to his front door, and my stomach was flipping so violently I was really glad I had decided to pass on breakfast. He took a long time answering and when he finally did, there was no disguising the astonishment on his face when he saw me.

  ‘Emma.’ There was a question in the greeting, and I wasn’t surprised, for he hadn’t been expecting me, and certainly not at this time of day.

  I smiled nervously, wanting to reach out to touch him, and knowing I should wait until he heard what I had come to tell him. I cleared my throat nervously.

  ‘Hi. I’m sorry it’s so early. I just wanted to let you know…’ I had thought this was going to be hard to say, but suddenly, when I looked into his eyes it was actually the easiest thing in the world. ‘My answer… is yes.’

  His face gave nothing away, but he stepped back from the door and held it open.

  ‘I think you’d better come in.’

  THE END

  PART FIVE

  I almost wished I had taken Caroline up on her offer to help me get dressed, as I struggled to do up the long zip at my back, but eventually I heard it purr up the length of my spine and into place. I smoothed the fabric down over my hips and turned to check my reflection in the full-length mirror. I gave myself a small nod. It was just how I had wanted to look today.

  I was spraying his favourite perfume on to the skin at my wrists when a rumbling sound from the street below drew my attention. The cars were here. I glanced at the clock. Right on time. The pulse below the sprayed fragrance skipped and began to quicken.

  I could hear movement and the sound of opening doors drifting up from downstairs, and knew most people had now left to make sure they got to the church before us. I glanced around the room, checking to make sure nothing was forgotten. The thought produced a strange spasm within me. Fortunately at that moment a light knock sounded on the bedroom door.

  ‘Come in,’ I called.

  CHAPTER 18

  ‘Come in,’ he repeated. For just a moment I thought I had seen his eyes light up in pleasure at finding me there on his doorstep, but when I looked again there was nothing in them except polite cordiality. He probably greeted the postman with greater warmth. Five seconds in and already this wasn’t going the way I had planned.

  I followed him into the hallway and then to the lounge. He didn’t ask me to sit down.

  ‘Can I get you something?’

  I shook my head, already beginning to feel my nerve slipping away. If he disappeared off to make tea or coffee at this point, I was afraid I would lose it completely. I took a deep breath, desperately trying to remember what had seemed such a wonderful opening line in the middle of the night.

  ‘I probably should have called first,’ I said, hearing the thread in my voice that showed how nervous I was.

  ‘Perhaps,’ Jack conceded.

  ‘I’m sure you’re busy with packing… and everything.’ I had to admit, there was very little evidence of it around us, but then it was a furnished rental. ‘I didn’t want to risk missing you,’ I explained. His face was impassive. ‘And as I hadn’t heard from you…’ I let the accusation hang there in the air, waiting for some sort of explanation or apology. He remained silent.

  ‘Well, I have something important I have to tell you.’

  ‘Richard has asked you to marry him. Again,’ Jack cut in, his voice bitter.

  I gasped. ‘Yes, yes he did. How did you know that?’

  ‘I always thought that he would.’ He looked directly at me, without flinching. ‘So, you’ve come here today to tell me you said yes.’

  He was standing just a metre or so away from me, close enough for me to easily see his face was devoid of all emotion. Something inside me blew as the valve keeping the steam under control couldn’t withstand the pressure.

  ‘No, of course I didn’t say yes! Are you insane?’

  That certainly caught his attention. He jolted as though he’d touched a live current. But he still didn’t come any closer to me. I thought the moment in my parents’ kitchen, when I’d had to tell Richard that although I loved him, I wasn’t in love with him had been bad, but that was nothing compared to this.

  I looked directly into Jack’s questioning brown eyes and knew he too deserved my honesty. ‘Part of me is always going to have feelings for Richard. He was my first love and he’s connected not just to me, but to my whole family. But I can’t love him, not the way he wants, or the way he deserves. Not any more.’ I could hear the tremor in my voice, and wondered if he could too. ‘And do you know why that is?’ I asked, on a note of despair and exasperation. ‘Because I’m in love with you.’ This was rapidly turning out to be the most unromantic declaration of love ever. My voice cracked slightly, as I continued, ‘And just so you know, I’m an old-fashioned sort of girl, and I’m not meant to be the one to say that first, the man is.’

  There was a long pause, during which Jack spectacularly missed his cue to say that he loved me too. I cleared my throat and smiled nervously as I looked directly into his unreadable face. ‘So, can we please just put the last three days behind us and go back to where we were? You asked me a question on Sunday, and my answer is “yes”. I will come with you to America. I want to give us a chance too.’ I thought I saw a subtle change in his expression, but I didn’t know what it meant. ‘That’s if… if the invitation still stands?’ I added nervously.

  A silence stretched between us.

  ‘Well, that’s the problem. Because actually, things have changed somewhat.’ Even in my very worst-case scenario, I had never thought I would hear him say those words. Was this still about Richard, or what he’d overheard Caroline say, or had he simply realised he’d made a mistake?

  ‘Oh,’ I responded, my voice trembling like a lost child’s. I needed to get out of there, fast. I took a step backwards, my eyes fixed on the door and escape.

  ‘You see, after thinking about it, I realise what I asked doesn’t sit comfortably with me.’

  Don’t cry, I told myself furiously. Whatever you do, don’t cry. I’d known all along how difficult it would be for him to commit to anyone. He’d had time to think about it, and was backing off. I should have seen it coming.

  ‘You see, what we were discussing, well… that’s just not going to be enough for me now. I want more.’

  My head flew up at his words. ‘More?’ I asked, my voice small and uncertain.

  ‘Much more,’ he confirmed, smiling properly for the first time since I’d walked into the house. ‘You see, I want to go to sleep at night with you curled up in my arms, and know that you’re going to be there in the morning… for all my mornings. And I just do
n’t think I made that clear enough the other day.’

  ‘But… you don’t do long-term relationships… you don’t want commitment.’

  ‘Who said that?’

  ‘You did.’

  He looked a little abashed at my reply, before nodding slightly. ‘You’re right, I did. But that was before.’

  ‘Before what?’

  ‘Before you.’

  There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but the look in his eyes was suddenly making me dizzy and breathless. I felt a smile stretching across my face as Jack took a step towards me and held out his hands. As though this was a fantastic dream that I was frightened would end at any moment, I carefully placed mine in both of his. He pulled me closer until our bodies were almost touching. ‘Since the very first day I met you, you’ve turned my entire world upside down, Emma. You’ve made me look closer at the man I am, and got me questioning what I want from the rest of my life and who I want to share it with.’

  ‘And did you come up with any answers?’

  He nodded, his eyes like pools I would willingly have drowned in. ‘Just one. You. You’re what I want from life, you’re the one I want to share it with.’ He released my hands and slid his arms around me, finally closing the last small distance between us. ‘I love you, Emma,’ he said tenderly, ‘and I’m really sorry you had to say it first. I shouldn’t have let that happen. But if it’s any consolation at all, I felt it first. I’ve felt it for a very, very long time.’

  His head lowered and his lips found my mouth and told me wordlessly that all he had said was true. When we finally broke apart I knew there were tears of happiness escaping from my eyes. He saw them and brushed them gently away with his fingertips.

  ‘I know how much you’d be giving up by leaving with me,’ Jack said.

  ‘I’m gaining more than I’m losing.’

  ‘Even so, I think we could balance things up a little more fairly. I think we should split our time between the ranch and here. That way we stay together and honour both of our family responsibilities.’

  It was the perfect compromise, or would have been if it weren’t for just one small detail.

  ‘When you say here, do you mean in Trentwell? In this house? Because we can’t, it’s been sold.’ His eyes were patient, waiting for me to catch up. ‘You? You bought it?’

  He nodded.

  ‘But… but… what if I’d said no? What if I’d accepted Richard’s proposal?’

  ‘Then I’d just have had to work even harder to win you back. I wasn’t ever going to walk away without fighting for you.’

  ‘But… you bought a house…’ I was still stunned that he had done something so impulsive.

  Jack shrugged, then looked suddenly serious. He pulled me back into his arms and his voice was husky as he spoke. ‘I’m not going to propose to you, because I know it’s too soon for that,’ his eyes held a glint of humour and irony, ‘and besides, everyone is doing that these days.’ I gave a wry smile. ‘But I do want to give you something,’ he continued. ‘Something so you’ll know that I’m serious about us, that I’m committed.’

  ‘I think buying the house did that,’ I said, my voice a little breathless.

  ‘Yes, well, you can’t wear a house.’ He reached into his pocket and palmed something from within it. ‘I’m in this Emma, one hundred per cent, all the way, committed.’

  He slowly opened his fingers, to reveal an exquisite sapphire ring.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ I breathed unsteadily.

  ‘Try it on,’ he said softly.

  I picked up the ring from his outstretched hand and looked up at him hesitantly. This wasn’t a proposal, he wasn’t asking me to be his wife, at least not yet. So which finger should the ring go on? His smile was gentle as he saw my confusion. He took the ring from me and held it poised over the third finger on my left hand.

  ‘It goes here,’ he said, sliding the ring in place.

  It was a perfect fit. Just as we were.

  THE END

  PART SIX

  ‘Come in,’ I called.

  My breath caught in my throat as I saw him standing at the open door. He looked so handsome in his suit, the crisp white shirt setting off the soft tan of his skin. His thick dark hair was, for once, almost tamed into place. His warm golden-brown eyes went straight to my face, and there was no disguising the love in them.

  Something inside me instantly calmed and quieted when I saw him. Just looking at his face could do that.

  ‘The cars are here,’ he advised, his American accent more pronounced by his lowered tone.

  ‘I’m ready,’ I declared.

  ‘I thought we could walk down the stairs together. Make a bit of an entrance, you know?’

  I smiled at the notion, recognising the sentiment behind the suggestion, and loving him even more because of it. I saw his gaze skim the room, moving past the small vase of flowers on the dresser and then return to it.

  ‘They’re pretty.’ I swear it was almost as though he knew.

  ‘Freesias,’ I said, my eyes following his to the perfect white blooms. ‘They’re actually from Richard.’

  He nodded, but there was no real surprise on his face. ‘Shall we go?’

  I slid my hand into the offered crook of his arm. He bent down low and gently kissed my cheek. ‘I love you,’ he whispered, so we wouldn’t be overheard by the people waiting for us in the hall below. His words brought a tear to my eye. I blinked it away, and smiled at the face I loved so much. ‘Right back at you,’ I said, tugging gently on his arm.

  He stopped just once before we got to the top of the stairs.

  ‘Where’s your stick?’

  I smiled at his worried expression. ‘It’s in the hall by the door. I can manage the stairs perfectly well without it. I’m not going to fall.’

  His handsome face still wore a look of concern, and his arm flexed firmly, as though preparing to take my weight in case I was wrong.

  ‘Hold on tight to me, Grandma,’ he said tenderly, bringing yet another smile to my lips, as so many emotions welled up inside me. I loved all of my grandchildren, of course I did, but Scott, who resembled his grandfather not just in looks, but in every last mannerism and character, held a special secret place in my heart.

  I paused on the first tread and looked down into the expectant faces of my family waiting for us in the hall below. Our two sons, our daughter, their partners and all our grandchildren were looking up, their faces wreathed in a sea of emotions. I smiled down at them all, hoping they would follow my lead. I began to descend the staircase, taking my time, not because I needed to be careful, but to give me the chance to study the gallery of photographs that lined the wall. The first pictures were of the Trentwell house and Jack’s ranch, the homes we had lived in for the first five years of our life together.

  The next picture was one I had taken. It was summertime and Jack and my parents were in the garden of the home we had bought them in the retirement village. It had been the perfect compromise for everyone.

  ‘Are you going to be okay here, Dad, really?’ I had asked anxiously.

  ‘Home isn’t bricks and mortar, Emma, you should know that by now, with the amount of time you spend flying back and forth across the Atlantic.’

  I had smiled and squeezed his hand tightly.

  We looked up then as one of the carers walked my mother across the lawn towards us. She was splattered with splotches of paint from the art class she had just attended.

  ‘Home is where the person you love lives,’ he added gently.

  The next portrait had been captured by Jack. It was of me; I looked exhausted, exhilarated and totally besotted as I smiled up at the camera from my hospital bed, cradling a small blanket-wrapped bundle. I touched the frame and was drawn back in time.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Give me a minute.’

  ‘How long does it take to pee on a stick?’

  I pulled open the bathroom door, my face lost beneath the width of my gr
in.

  ‘Yes?’ he asked excitedly.

  ‘Two blue lines!’ I cried.

  Each photograph brought with it a memory and a smile. The gallery was a living breathing catalogue of our life together: birthdays, celebrations, homes we no longer owned, holidays…

  The sun had been hot and the sky a brilliant blue and Jack and I were pictured in front of the Taj Mahal, a palace built by a man for the wife he loved. Supposedly one of the most romantic places on earth.

  ‘Emma,’ began Jack, getting down on one knee before the beautiful white memorial, and taking my hand. ‘Will you marry me?’

  Tourists taking photographs of the palace stopped their snapping and turned towards us; some even pointed their cameras in our direction. Locals just walked on by with indulgent smiles. They saw this a lot.

  ‘Well?’ prompted Jack, his eyes warm. ‘Lucky number seven?’

  I smiled and shook my head and smiled down at the man I loved with all my heart, who I would continue to love until that heart beat no more.

  ‘No, Jack, not yet.’ He had a regretful smile on his face as he got to his feet. ‘I really thought that this place would be the charm,’ he said, pulling me into his arms and kissing me warmly. Around us the gathering crowd burst into a small ripple of applause. I guess they thought I’d said yes.

  ‘You got close that time,’ I admitted in a whisper against the softness of his lips. ‘Just keep asking.’

  We never did get married, even though Jack proposed a total of twelve times over the years. It became a source of amused indulgence in our family, how the man who’d wanted no commitment had continued to ask me. But I’d never needed the ceremony or the piece of paper to know that we would stay in love and be together for ever.

  Each year we celebrated the day he had given me the ring, the one I still wore on my wedding finger. That had been our anniversary, the day we didn’t get engaged.

  I stopped beside the large colourful photograph, taken just a few months earlier, at our fortieth anniversary.