Chapter 10
10
Nataly
It’s Saturday night.
Joel and I went out to the cinema as we usually do, and this time we went to the West India Quay one. I absolutely love Canary Wharf. There’s something about the sleek skyline, the water reflecting the lights—it feels like the kind of place where life really happens. It’s definitely somewhere I’d love to live one day. Right now, though, I’m still in university dorms, so I settle for loving the view and the fact that this cinema is close enough. We’re always bouncing between the one at the O2 and this one, depending on the movie.
We watched Get Hard with Will Ferrell and Kevin Hart. I think Kevin Hart is absolutely hilarious. He’s one of those comedians who can make me laugh a lot. And Will Ferrell? Elf made him a forever favorite in my book. Put the two of them together, and you’ve pretty much got a guaranteed good time.
We’re walking around after the movie down where the shops are underground. And then, as we sit down, out of nowhere, he drops it.
“Why don’t I come with you when you go down to Bournemouth? I know you’re supposed to see your parents soon. I really want to meet them,” he says casually.
My stomach knots instantly. “Uh… yeah, okay, sure,” I say, trying to not let the anxiety through my tone. “Mom mentioned it too. I’m planning on going Friday night and coming back Sunday. We could take a walk around Bournemouth, hang out on Saturday.”
“That sounds great. I’ll look forward to it.”
I’m still not ready for this. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for Joel to meet my parents. On paper, it makes sense. Joel and I get along really well—we always have. That’s why I’m even in this relationship to begin with. Things with us are generally easygoing and comfortable. We always enjoy hanging out. We started off well as friends—everyone says a friendship is a good foundation for a relationship. I’ve enjoyed our friendship, our banter. That’s what makes it so hard to question whether it’s love or just comfort. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? This relationship is different from any I’ve had before. I haven’t fallen so deep. I’ve enjoyed the friendship foundation the most.
After being in a relationship for around four-ish months now, meeting my family seems like the logical next step. But the problem is that this step feels too big, too final. Too serious.
Why did I say yes? Well, if I didn’t, then it would look like something’s wrong. And that would mean I’d have to talk about it. I’m not ready to address what I’m feeling because I’m still figuring it out. Because if this doesn’t work out between us—that means I’ll be back to square one. I don’t want to mess around, getting into different relationships all the time. Every other relationship went wrong, and my heart got broken. I’ll have to open my heart again to someone who could smash it to a million pieces.
I don’t know how many times I can keep doing that.
I just want to be married. I don’t care that other people say I’m too young. I want to live life with my person—someone who will be by my side through life’s ups and downs. Is that Joel? I don’t know. Especially when I’ve been having a spark for someone else.
So… Bournemouth here we come, I guess.
As we’re walking around, he talks a little of his trip.
“When I went to In-N-Out, it made me think of you. I really missed you, you know. It was weird not texting you all the time.”
I tilt my head. “Yeah? You were pretty quiet though.”
He waves his hand. “Oh, time difference. You know. But I’m back. I’m yours now.” He puts his hand over my hand.
He says it with this sudden enthusiasm, like he’s overcompensating for how weird things were before his trip. He’s all smiles, holding my hand a little tighter than usual. It’s sweet. But something about the way he’s talking just doesn’t… sit right. I don’t know what it is. It’s so subtle, it’s barely even there.
It’s like he did a 180 all of a sudden after California. What happened?
“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he continues, his tone turning serious. “My time away made me realize what’s really important. The future is important. The past needs to be in the past, and I want to move forward. I realized I missed you when I was away.”
Sorry, what? Moving forward how ?
“What made you think of all of these things?” I ask, because this is really different from the way he was previously acting towards me. He’s never really been lovey-dovey towards me.
“Nothing important, nothing you need to know,” he quickly replies. His eyes dart around me and he’s just acting odd.
“Oh, that’s… okay. Yeah, things were a little weird. We’ll see how it all goes,” I reply, my voice hesitant.
But I don’t get the chance to say more because my phone buzzes again.
Nathan: I saw a pink house today and I thought of you. I know you mentioned your favorite color is pink. Maybe I could take you to see it on my motorbike. I think you’d love it.
My heart flips again, harder this time. And as Joel keeps talking about his plans for the summer, I’m only half listening.
Because one guy is talking about our future.
The other one makes me feel seen—and like I actually have a future.
And then a lightbulb goes off in my mind. Maybe this doesn’t have to be a big deal. Maybe I’m overthinking it—something I’m really, really good at. I should just let it happen and see where it goes. Go with the flow. That’s a thing people do, right? I don’t need to plan tomorrow or figure out where this relationship is heading right this second. I don’t need to think about the fact that the spark isn’t there. It’s okay that I’m still figuring this out between us. I just need to focus on this coming weekend. That’s it.
It’s time to go to Bournemouth. As we’re about to board the train at Waterloo, I’m reminded of how much I love being in London.
“Sometimes, as I’m walking around London in the busy-ness of it all, I’m just hit with this reminder of how much I love being here,” I say to Joel as we step onto the train.
“There’s a reason why London is the best city in the world,” he replies with a smirk.
“Debatable,” I laugh, teasing. “It is so magical, though. I do feel like Hallie in The Parent Trap being here, always taking everything in.”
“I’ve always loved London,” he says, “There’s nowhere like it for me.”
“Moving to London has been a little dream tucked away in my heart for a while,” I admit as we find our seats. “Every time I’d come up to visit London, my heart would come alive.”
Actually, it goes deeper than just visiting. It’s not just the city I love. It’s the way it’s tied to childhood dreams I didn’t even realize were still alive.
“That’s the magic of it,” he says. “But what sparked it in you?”
“I have to say, it was totally The Parent Trap ,” I say, laughing. “I even tried Oreos with peanut butter because of Annie and Hallie—and, no surprise, I loved the combination. That plus milk. You can’t have Oreos without milk.”
He chuckles. “American influence runs deep.”
“Growing up in the States, I totally lived vicariously through movies and TV shows. So as a thirteen year-old girl, seeing London on the screen made my heart leap a little. I loved seeing Hallie get all classy, enjoying the sights of London and the whimsy of her life here, taking it all in.”
We settle into our seats across from each other at one of the train tables.
“Paris and Rome were up there too,” I add.
“What did you think of them?” he asks.
“They were great—well, except for the pigeon poop in Rome,” I laugh. “Landed right on my head at the ruins. Iconic, really.”
He grimaces. “That’s traumatic.”
“Tell me about it. The ruins are gorgeous, but I’m not sure they’re worth being a bird’s toilet.” I shake my head. “And what I loved most about Paris was the Eiffel Tower—especially how it sparkled at night. Big Ben has always been my favorite landmark since watching The Parent Trap , but the Eiffel Tower came in a close second. My mom even thought Big Ben would be as tall as the Eiffel Tower—she was a little disappointed that it wasn’t. But come on, that thing is massive!”
We both laugh, and for a moment, it’s easy. Still… there’s something missing. I feel like I’m just catching up with a friend .
I get comfortable in my seat, stealing glances out the window as the train begins to leave.
Thinking back on it, London always filled my brain with excitement and adventure.
Well—until the excitement took a two-year pause when my parents told me we were moving to England. Originally, the plan was to move close to London (Hemel Hempstead, to be exact). But after struggling to find a place, and having a second cousin down in Bournemouth, we ended up renting the first house we saw there. And just like that, London slipped a little further away.
I remember our first sightseeing day in London, and my mom asked me to take a picture with Big Ben in the background.
“No, Mom. I don’t want a picture,” I said, grumpily.
I was too annoyed about the move to rekindle my love affair with Ben. I’m sure he understood. It wasn’t him, it was me.
“Come on, honey! Just one picture, please!” she replied.
I obliged, with what was probably the most angry smile of my life. I looked like a rabid raccoon. A lazy, slouched, rabid raccoon.
I think she regretted asking.
My poor mom. She just wanted to embrace being in Europe, and I subjected her to every ounce of my hormonal teenage feelings.
But now? Now, my heart has long since apologized to Big Ben. And living in London, actually living here, makes me soar. I love navigating the city like a true Londoner. I know exactly which tube doors and carriages to sit in for the optimal connection to other stations. I avoid talking to strangers because I know that’s just not done. I use CityMapper, because that’s the thing to do. I act and move like a total Londoner, and I love it.
But more than the city itself, it’s the community here that makes London so special. Our church, Hillsong London, is full of wonderful, vibrant people. And places only ever really become meaningful because of the people you share them with.
So many people would love the opportunity to live in London, and God has given me this incredible experience.
As the countryside starts to roll past the window, I feel this wave of gratitude wash over me. Maybe I’m not ready to define things with Joel. Maybe I’m scared of what getting serious would mean. But right now, I can enjoy the little things. I can be grateful for them all.