15. "Don't Go" Part II

15

“Don’t Go” Part II

 

Are we destined to love a specific person? Our soul bound to another from the moment we’re born. Or is ‘one true love’ a romantic idea and nothing more? A whimsical notion created by the more starry-eyed of our ancestors. There are seven billion people on our planet; the idea that only one of them is your soul mate is a daunting one. The odds of that one perfect soul akin to yours living in the same town are slim to say the least. Nevertheless, because of my experiences I believe it’s possible.   

            I knew then and I know now that Rachel is my soul mate. I’d known it from the moment I’d first looked into her eyes. Being with her, being around her are the only times I feel sane and happy; being around Rachel enables me to forget the horrors of my past and become a normal, guiltless human being.

             As I followed her up the stairs to her flat, my mind went through a million different ways of telling her how I felt. It’s strange how the brain can place such importance on the trivial. Wording was about the most insignificant thing under the circumstances but it’s what most of my mind was working on as I entered her home. Thinking and rethinking the same thoughts I’d been over for the past forty minutes. As we walked through the threshold, Rachel offered me a drink “It’s either water or orange juice, I’m afraid.” She said, “What with the packing pretty much done, it’s not exactly a great place for hosting at the minute.”

        The flat was bare and minimally chaotic, clothes strewn about the place with opened, half packed suitcases. I’d only been there once before and it was different to how I remembered it. The evidence of the move made the reality of the situation hit me, the reality of how significant my intentions were. There was a picture of Andrew and Rachel atop one of the boxes marked ‘for airmail’ and I remember my brain beginning to work against me. That’s her fiancé it told me, she loves him, he asked her to spend the rest of her life with him and she said yes. They were planning to move to the other side of the globe together and there I was thinking she might want to stay. Thinking that me being in love with her would make any difference.

         I steeled myself, reasoned that if I didn’t tell her, if I wasn’t open with her then I’d never know how she felt and that would torment me for years. I had enough torment going on in my head as it was, so I took a deep breath and decided to carry on with the insanity of the situation. I politely declined her offer of a drink and we stood in her open plan living/kitchen area looking at one another. “So what do you want to talk about Stew?” she said sipping water from a freshly filled glass.

        I took my time. Partly out of fear, partly out of doubt. It seemed an eternity until my brain would let me say anything. Eventually the words trickled from my mouth, quiet and fearful. “I love you Rachel.” She looked at me with sad eyes and turned her head away, sighing. “C’mon Stewart, don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” She said, “You know I love you too. I love all you guys. Chloe, Amare and you but I have to go.” I felt my shoulders drop; she’d misinterpreted my statement as one of a loving friendship. “Besides” she continued “it’s not like we’ll lose touch. We’ll video chat online and phone each other.”

         I closed my eyes and exhaled largely from my nostrils. “No” I said, almost in disbelief at myself “You don’t understand.” What am I doing I thought stop it. Before I could though, I said the words. “Rachel, I’m in love with you.” We maintained eye contact, the short moment after I’d said it. An invisible energy passed between us. Overwhelming, it caused me to shake. Never before in my whole life had I been that open with anyone. She didn’t say anything, just stared deep into my eyes. I wanted to stride over to her and kiss her passionately but we both stood as still as statues, frozen in a moment of extreme emotional proportions.

         I expected her to react differently to how she did. I expected her to cry, tears of happiness and for her to joyously exclaim that she loved me too. I thought that my happy ending would begin at that moment but it didn’t. She looked at me, her face was expressionless and time seemed to slow down. “Please” I continued, my voice breaking under the weight of my feelings and of the situation, nearly losing the battle with the domineering silence. “Don’t go”.

          The words “Don’t go” lingered in the air with the desperation of a plea for survival. Rachel remained still; the cogs in my brain went into overdrive, trying to think of what else to say. Trying to think of ways to convince her to love me and stay with me. Nothing came to mind and we remained staring at each other, locked in the grip of the moment for what felt like an eternity. “Stewart.” Rachel eventually broke the spell, she looked and sounded overwhelmed by the whole thing, I remember this made me feel guilty. I had clearly put her in an uncomfortable situation. “I’m engaged… to Andrew.” She said in a slow and explanatory way. At this point I was committed, I felt there was something there, I knew she loved me, that can’t be it I thought to myself this can’t be over.

         “Andrew hurts you though, doesn’t he?” The statement was a bold one and said accordingly. As I said the words, I felt my chest tighten, The knowledge that I’d just put myself in a ‘no going back’ situation drilled into my brain and my whole body seemed to twitch and become prickly. A fork in the road had just been created, I’d created it and now; Rachel will either leave him for me or leave me for South Africa and perhaps I’d never even hear from her again. “Stewart,” she sighed, turned her head and looked towards the floor. “You’ve asked me this before ok… look, nothing…” She couldn’t answer, couldn’t outright deny it and I knew at that point, as much as if she’d have given me a verbal admission. Andrew did hurt her. I tried to seize on it, make her realize she deserved better. “You should be with someone who really loves you.” I said, suppressing tears. “Who treats you how you deserve to be treated.” I saw her eyes well up again and I wanted to hold her. Tell her everything would be ok, that we could be together and I would look after her forever. In one final attempt to help her see, I said “Andrew isn’t right for you, he doesn’t deserve...”

           “F**k you.” The words, loud and vicious broke into the room uninvited. Rachel and I turned our heads in unison to see Andrew stood in the doorframe to the side of us. I’ll never know how long he’d been there but the look on his face suggested he’d been there long enough. In place of his usual swanky grin was a look of menace, his eyes bore into me and a heavy load of pent up hatred was being dumped into his head and aimed at me. “Who do you think you are” he said, his voice and body language were confrontational as he strutted into the room. Playing the part he’d assigned to himself, the part of the alpha male. His eyes remained fixed on mine, he positioned himself a couple of steps from me, his tall frame intimidating and angry. “What’s the plan here Stewart?” He said in condescending question. “You just come here and ruin everything we’ve got?” gesturing to Rachel and himself, his hands surveying the premises and all of it’s contents.

           Abruptly, he grabbed the lapels of my jacket and brought my face close to his. His eyes had a fire in them and I felt for a moment as though I was in Rachel’s shoes. The aggression of the man was undeniably scary and it oozed from his every pore. He always did well to hide this side of himself at church and in public but here I was seeing the true nature of the beast. He whispered the following words to me with a real sincerity “Well f**k you.”

          Rachel shouted at him “Andrew leave him alone.” I was alarmed by the fear in her voice; no one knew just how violent he was more than she did. Then, something clicked in my head, I didn’t like that Rachel saw me as vulnerable in the situation. That she thought Andrew could hurt me. Maybe it was pride or maybe those primal ‘fight or flight’ instincts kicking in again but my body reacted, separate from my brain. Taking me back to the monster I’d once been in my kitchen, I snapped.

           With a usually inaccessible strength I tore his hands from the scruff of my jacket collars and with my right hand grabbed his neck, forcing him a few steps backwards and slamming the back of his head into the wall. I held him there with one hand for a moment and looked into him, examined his soul. His face showed a mixture of pain and pure shock, he hadn’t put this in his script. He was the one that was supposed to do the intimidating. I leaned in close to him and with a brutal, confident honesty said, “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

          My words shook me more than they did him; I was brought back to reality with an enormous bang. He didn’t know what I was capable of but I did and that scared me. My mind did what it had failed to do before, when Paul had sat in my favorite chair, it stopped me. I let go of Andrew’s neck and took a few steps backwards; he doubled over coughing “f*****g freak.” He spluttered between his heaving wheezes. My vision blurred momentarily, I felt embarrassed. I looked at Rachel, hoping for an outstretched hand, a symbol of hope but it didn’t come. She just appeared horrified by my brief and insignificant act of violence. All of the expectation bled from within me, “sorry” I muttered in no particular direction and turned and left the flat. Andrew had ruined my moment, intruded on my last chance to find out how Rachel feels about me. All my hopes and dreams with regards to Rachel and I had slipped through my fingers.

        Outside it had begun to rain, heavily and it soaked through my clothes almost instantly. I walked no more than a few metres down the road, stopped and felt my heart begin to break. Before it had chance to, I heard Rachel shout my name behind me. I turned and saw her standing in the rain, drenched and beautiful. My heart momentarily forgot about breaking and leapt with joy.

        It’s a scene I’d watched a hundred times in romantic films. A cliché made real, we stood opposite each other in the pouring rain. I was certain she loved me and that she’d chased me outside because she had to tell me. She slowly approached and put her hands on my shoulders. Her face had a sad, vulnerable expression on it and as she looked into my eyes; I could tell she was doing something she found incredibly difficult. “I love you Stewart.” She said, tears forming in her eyes and mine. Her tone wasn’t the one I wanted, I sensed a “but” moment. I felt like a fool, like I’d taken a plunge and landed on the rocks, dashed and splattered a great distance from the safety of the water in which I supposed to dive. “I didn’t want to leave like this.” She said, her voice trembling and sorrowful. “I have to go with him, he’s my fiancé, Stewart.” A lengthy moment passed neither of us said anything, the only sound to be heard was the rain as it’s small droplets ferociously attacked every surrounding surface. I felt the precipitation pouring down my face, my lips sealed, rendered me silent. She leaned into me and rested a gentle kiss on my cheek. “I love you.” She said for a second time. “I’m sorry.” And with that she turned away and walked out of my life.

         I stood there on the street like a statue for a long time. The tears streamed down my face, mingling with rainwater. I could tell that she loved me, she had a deep love for me but all that served to do was increase the pain. Layer on more feelings of despair. I loved a woman with every fibre of my being, every last crumb of my soul ached for her and she loved me too. Yet because of the cruelest of cruel twists of fate, she would never be mine.

          Five years later, as I pull up in my driveway outside the semi-detached I now live in, I find myself thinking about her. I think about her every day, she’s my soul mate and I love her and I fear that will never change. Rachel and Andrew left the next day and still live in South Africa. I get occasional updates from Amare and Chloe but for obvious reasons never receive direct contact from them. I sigh and take a deep breath; I try and think of something else. It’s my birthday and I’m having a special dinner cooked for me.

             Switching the engine off, I take two more pills from the clear plastic bag in my pocket and swallow them. I get out of the car and enter my house. On entry, a wonderful smell enchants my nostrils and lures me to the kitchen and upon opening the kitchen door; I’m greeted by a sight that never fails to make me smile. My daughter Emma, my beautiful baby girl. Just one year old, she looks at me as I enter the room and the love I have for her elevates my mood as the sight of her always does. By the oven, my wife is cooking something on the hob. “Smells great honey” I say to her, as she acknowledges my presence. She kisses me on the cheek and smiles. “Well I’m making the first thing you ever taught me to cook.” She says, “seafood linguine.”

           Months after Rachel had left, I ultimately came to the conclusion I had to move on. Chloe and I had grown closer and eventually we started dating. Now, whilst she’s not my soul mate. Whilst I never planned for things to end up like this; she’s my wife and the mother of my child. I’d grown up and slotted myself into a life with her, a seemingly normal and conventional life.   

Reviews

[AprilRN1210]

What a heartbreaking addition.. I love everything about this chapter.. From the conversation, to the action, to the thought processes, and to how it ended up... There were places in here that made the hopeless romantic in me sigh with contentment and melt. To hear and feel the male perspective of love and romance is always so intriguing to me, and you did it perfectly. I felt the desperation, the inner struggle with himself, the passion he felt for her and the moments of suspense were delicious. There isn't one thing I would change, add, or remove.. My new favorite!!! LOVE IT.