Chapter 49 Twenty-six years old
Twenty-six years old
Sam
I love the water, I know I do. But a voice at the back of my head is telling me that this is the cause of all my problems, and that I haven’t done enough work on myself, so being in the water will trigger another panic attack.
“Want to do lengths?” Kath asks, pulling me from the spiral. “Or bob around?”
“I don’t know,” I tell her. Peeling off my clothes, I leave them on a chair and make my way to the edge of the pool.
“You get in,” she tells me as she starts folding her shirt on another chair. “I’ll just be a minute.”
I take a breath to ground myself before taking the first step into the water.
Knee deep. Waist deep. Chest. I can see my feet on the blue tiled bottom.
Turning to look at Kath, I have to immediately face forwards.
She’s in a green swimsuit patterned with jellyfish but somehow makes it look like the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
It just highlights how long her legs are, how elegant her collarbones are.
God, why do I think collarbones look elegant?
Well, of course I think they’re elegant; this is the woman I’ve loved for over a decade.
She shrieks as she makes her way down the steps.
“It’s cold,” she declares. “Hotel pools should not be this cold.”
“Better get moving then!” I call back.
I sink beneath the surface and kick off from the wall.
The motion feels so familiar, the pull on my shoulders, the indescribable feeling of cutting through the water.
But I can tell I haven’t swum in months, it feels slightly off.
It’s strange for something that had felt so natural to feel almost rusty.
I take a breath and do a tumble turn at the end. Water rushes past me. It’s amazing.
After a few lengths, Kath tugs on my ankle, and we move to the deep end to tread water.
“How are you feeling?” she asks.
“Like I’ve missed this,” I tell her honestly. “Like I’m ready to start swimming again now that I know that it isn’t my only priority in life. What do you think?”
“It’s your decision. As long as it makes you happy, it’s the right thing to do.”
“I think it’ll make me happy.”
Kath smiles. “Good."
We bob in the water for a few more moments.
“Do you want to go to a bigger pool tomorrow?” She turns to face me.
The water is clinging to her lashes and her hair looks almost black.
“Only if you don’t mind deviating from the timetable?
But I think swimming in a proper 25m or 50m pool might be a better setting.
Then you can see if you still feel the same way even when it’s a bit more professional. ”
“I want you to have a fun and relaxing holiday,” I tell her. “You’re the priority, Kath. Not swimming. And whilst I love it, I don’t want it to take over my entire life again. So if you want to go to a pool, we go. But if you don’t want to, then we don’t.”
“I want to.” She pulls herself up onto the edge of the pool and adjusts her swimming costume.
Her sitting on the edge of the pool makes me think of the summer weeks I used to spend staying with her nan in Sidmouth, swimming lengths in the community pool. I miss that.
“Race you to the end?” she challenges me.
“Imagine if I beat an Olympic champion.” She winks as she pulls down her goggles and drops back into the water.
I chase after her, and the next few minutes are spent giggling and splashing water at each other.
It’s the most fun I’ve had in a pool in years, and I don’t spend a second of it thinking about stroke patterns or cadence, analysing every kick of my legs or how they push off the pool’s wall.
Instead of using the pool as a way to dissociate from the world I’m so present in this moment, in this second where I get to watch Kath laugh.
And it hits me that there isn’t anywhere I’d rather be than with her, and maybe that’s exactly what love is.
“What are you thinking?” Kath floats on her back after we stop to pause for breath.
I move to float beside her. Swallowing hard, I stare at the ceiling tiles for a few more moments. How brave am I feeling today?
“Do you want the honest answer?” I turn to look at her. I’ve been ready for this moment. I’ve been practising what I’m going to say for weeks. But is she ready to hear it?
“Of course,” she tells me, continuing to bob on her back. “I always want the honest answer.” She’s pulled her goggles off again, hair haloing her in the water.
“I’m thinking about how much I love you,” I say. My heart starts pounding but I keep going, I don’t think I can keep dancing around my feelings anymore. “I’m thinking about how I’m in love with you, Kath, and I always have been.”
There’s a long silence. Long enough that I start to worry. To think that I might have misread things, and that she still might not be ready for this discussion. That I’ve caused so much damage that Kath will never fully be able to forgive me.