Authors: Annabelle Eaton
Chapter Thirty
Christie’s been great over the past three
weeks. She took me in; no questions asked, when I turned up on her
doorstep with just one small suitcase and mascara running down my face. She’s
helped me get a job, showing me where to look, and I’m lucky that I landed a
temporary job almost straight away – thanks to one lady that went into
labour without knowing she was pregnant.
I sit cross-legged on Christie’s sofa
pouring over apartment listings. I’ve looked at a few so far, but they were no
good – who wants to live above a butchers? The smell of meat made me gag
the second I stepped through the door.
“Any luck?” Christie asks, putting two
glasses of wine down on the coffee table.
“Thanks. A few new nice ones, I’ll make
appointments to see them at the weekend.” Christie sits down and tucks her
long, messy hair behind her ears. “Okay give me your honest opinion, do you
think I’d be any good working in advertising?”
“With your colourful range of vocabulary,
absolutely,” she replies and laughs. “Seriously, though, if that’s what you’ve
always wanted to do then go for it.”
“Actually I just watched How to Lose a Guy
in 10 Days and thought advertising looks fun.”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course. Well you
have three months to figure it out and line up a new job.”
“No pressure then.” Said popped a random
child out lady is due back at work in just under three months and when she
returns it’s
bye bye Amelie
. Not that
I can complain, I’m extremely lucky to have the job in the first place.
“Have you spoken to Aden any more?”
I pick my wine up and want to down it. When
I can keep myself busy and not think about him, it doesn’t feel like I’m being
ripped apart from the inside. I miss him so much sometimes I feel like I can’t
breathe.
“Not since last week.” When he called me to
say that my new employer had contacted him for a reference, and we spoke
briefly I cried for the rest of the evening. He gave me a glowing reference,
and I was offered the job the following day. I sent him a text thanking him because
hearing his voice again is too hard.
“Are you going to?”
I take long sip of wine. “Honestly, I’m
about one more day from booking my ticket home.”
Christie sighs and tilts her head
to the side. “Sweetie, you’re miserable without him.”
“I know, but at least it didn’t end with us
hating each other.” I’d rather this pain than knowing he’s left me because he
can’t stand me anymore.
“You don’t know that would happen. What if
you found a way to make it work? When he’s attending all those events and galas
why don’t you do something else?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, Millie. That’s up to you to
find. What if letting him go is the biggest mistake of you’ve ever made and one
that you regret for the rest of your life. How will you feel when you find out
he’s with someone else?” I want to punch her. The thought of him with someone
else, telling her he loves her, makes me feel sick. “You need a hobby,
something you can do so you’re not just waiting around for him to get home.”
“You think knitting will make me feel any
less like a version of my mother.” I’m happy to report that I haven’t spoken to
that witch since the day I stormed out of her house. It hurts less and less
every day. They don’t love me the way they should, but that’s their problem. If
I ever have kids I’ll love them no matter what and nothing, but their happiness
will matter.
She laughs. “You know what I mean. You ran
before you thought. I’m sure you could’ve worked it all out with him. I think
you’re crazy, girl.” Yeah, you and everyone else.
I swig my wine and hope that it and endless
conversation with Christie will fill the Aden shaped void in my life, even just
for the evening. I did run. I want him back.
I walk home from work because with the heavy
Friday evening New York traffic it’s quicker than a taxi. Plus I don’t believe
in gyms, so walking makes me feel a little better. Couples are everywhere.
Before Aden, I never noticed how many people are holding hands and stealing
kisses in the street. And before Aden I never wanted to punch them all.
I keep my head down and walk faster,
weaving through the crowd as I finally approach my building – well
Christie’s building. Tonight I’m going to be alone, and I’m not looking forward
to it. Usually Christie and I would do something every night, dinner and wine,
bars at the weekends, but she’s on a date with a guy that she’s had her eye on
for a while. As much as I want to warn her not to start anything in case it
ends and she gets her heart ripped out, I won’t. Not every relationship is
going to be difficult; I just wish that were the case for me and Aden.
No, I am not thinking about him. I am
fine
. I wish I knew how many times I
have to tell myself I’m fine before I’ll start believing it. I shove the key in
the lock and open the door. Christie has already left; she said she might
be gone before I got home, and she is. The apartment is too quiet.
Three and a half weeks ago I would have
travelled home from work with Aden and we would spend the night at his. Tears
well in my eyes and I look up to stop them from spilling over. It’s supposed to
be getting better by now, surely? If anything I miss him more. I love him more,
and all I want is to collapse in his arms and never let go. I’m an idiot. A
stupid, afraid idiot. I should have been stronger.
Christie is right; instead of worry about
being nothing while I wait for Aden to get home I should have been out there
being someone until we both got home.
I feel lightheaded. I’ve messed everything
up because I pushed him away rather than taking a step back and thinking logically
about what was going on. We could have sorted it out. We both gave up too soon.
I pull my mobile out of my pocket, and
speed dial his number. My heart races as I hear it connect to England and then
it rings.
Please pick up. Please forgive
me.
“Amelie,” he breathes down the phone, and I
can picture his eyes closed, smiling faintly.
“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” He says
nothing and I start to cry. “Aden, I’m so sorry. I’ve fucked everything
up, and I love you so much.”
“You fucked up when you left, but I fucked
up when I let you.” Down the phone I hear someone speaking over a tannoy,
making it harder to hear him. “I spoke to Christie.”
He did what? I wipe my tears and let myself
fall to the sofa, pinning the phone to my ear because it’s all I can do to be closer
to him. “What?”
“She called me and told me everything, and
she called me a few things too.” My eyes widen. That meddling cow! “I’m in New
York, Amelie.” I breathe in deeply, finally getting the breath I’ve so
desperately needed in three weeks. “She said you were days from coming home, so
I thought I’d beat you to it.”
I’m frozen, trying to work out if he said
that of if I imagined it. I’ve dreamt about it so many times. “Where are you in
New York?” I whisper.
“Airport, just approaching the exit and then
I’ll be right there.”
I burst into tears again, clutch the phone
harder and smile, all at the same time. He’s here. I can’t believe it. My heart
rate spikes and for the first time it feels whole again. “You do know that in
situations like this, you should already be at my door when I call, right?”
“Damn it,” he says.
“You’re not following the chick flick rules
very well.”
“You want to call me back and say all that
in half an hour? We can pretend this conversations hasn’t happened yet.”
I laugh, wiping my eyes with the sleeve of
my shirt. Good luck getting here in half an hour with all that traffic.
Actually it’s probably best he’s not here yet, I need a minute to let
everything sink in.
“No, just hurry up, please,” I whisper.
“Believe me, baby, I am.” He ends the call,
and I sob again, this time with happiness.
He’ll be an hour I think, forty-five
minutes if the traffic clears a little. I open the door and pace the apartment,
doing a circuit of walking around the sofa, into the kitchen and back again.
He’s coming. I want to jump and dance, but until he’s here I can’t believe
completely it.
All I’ve wanted over the last three weeks
is Aden, and he’s almost here. I’m giddy with excitement and nerves. I feel
like I’m getting a part of me back. I can’t believe he’s not angry with me
– I am. I’ve been so stupid and so caught up with one thing that I’ve
missed the big picture. In all fairness, though, I’ve been taught my whole life
to lock things up and keep the stiff upper lip. I’ve never dealt with things
well because, honestly, I don’t really know how to – not in a healthy
way.
I want that to change because we
have
to work this time. I want us to be
more open and talk about everything. I’ll never pull a Mum and Dad and not
believe in myself – and me and Aden as a couple – ever again.
I look at the clock, and it’s been
fifty-three minutes since his call. My heart races and I shake my hands. Come
on, Aden. I hear footsteps getting louder as whoever is out there gets closer.
My racing heart leaps right up into my throat and I stop breathing.
Aden steps into the doorway and the air I
was holding in leaves my lungs in a rush. He looks tired but so beautiful I
feel my heart constrict. Tears well in my eyes and it hits me just how much
I’ve missed him and how impossibly in love with him I am.
He walks in, dropping his holdall bag on
the floor and closing the door without taking his eyes off me. “Hi,” he says,
stopping in front of me.
I look up through damp eyelashes. “Aden,” I
whisper and reach out, touching my hand to his cheek. Oh God he’s really here.
No longer able to hold it in, I burst into tears and collapse against his
chest. I wanted this reunion to be romantic, not me soaking his shirt and
sniffing, but I can’t help it.
His arms are around me in an instant, and he
buries his head in the crook of my neck. I’m tucked away under him, clinging on
for dear life. He holds me closer. “Shh, it’s okay now.”
As pathetic as it is, I
need
him. There, I’ve admitted it. I, Amelie Cohen, who can do
everything all by herself needs someone. I don’t even care anymore because
unless he cheats, turns abusive or tries to control me I want us to last. “I
missed you so much I could barely breathe,” I say when I’ve composed myself a
little.
I sound desperate, and you know what, I am.
And that’s okay because I love him and what happened between us is fixable. We
need to find a way of being together that works for us both, but we can fix
this.
“I think I love you too much, Aden. We’ll
go wherever you want, back to London is fine with me. God Narnia is fine with
me.” He lifts me and I wrap my legs around his waist, pressing myself to him
closer.
“Narnia,” he says and laughs. “We’ll figure
it all out later. Right now I need to take you to bed and make up for the
shittest three weeks I’ve ever experienced. It’s been hell, baby.” His lips
capture mine in the softest but most passionate kiss we’ve shared and my heart
soars. “Where’s your room?” he murmurs against my lips.
I know he’s said something, but it doesn’t
register what. He’s here, in New York, with me. We’re together again. “I don’t
care. Narnia,” I reply and he pulls back, laughing.
“You’re distracted.” No shit. “Bedroom.
Where is it?”
“Door on the left, I couldn’t care less
about a bed. I’d have sex with you on a hoover right now.”
He laughs and murmurs against my lips, “I
love you so much, you fucking weirdo.”