17. Would Have Followed You Anywhere
WOULD HAVE FOLLOWED YOU ANYWHERE
ANNELISA
I splash water on my face to shock myself out of my feelings. Staring at my reflection for a moment, I shake my head at myself.
“Way to play it cool, you idiot,” I say quietly, before opening the door.
I take a detour on the way back to the lounge room, pouring myself another glass of wine in the kitchen on the way.
Will is sitting on the couch that I just vacated and I come to a halt, unsure of where to sit.
Would it be weird to sit next to him?
Making the decision that it would be weirder to move to a different seat, I sit down next to him, making sure there is enough space between us that there won’t be any accidental touching occurring.
It had been hard enough in the bathroom, when his arm kept brushing against mine while we got the girls sorted out in the bath.
Every little bit of contact gave me goosebumps, and that’s the last thing I need right now.
My body is already betraying me enough, with the way my heart has been racing every time I’ve found his eyes on me .
I take a sip of wine before curling my legs under me and pulling the blanket back over myself. “Thanks for the blanket, by the way,” I say, trying to sound casual as I lean back in my seat.
Too late, I realise he’s got his arm slung across the back of the couch, and I freeze before forcing myself to relax, knowing that if I move that will just make it weirder.
For his part, Will acts like having my head leaning against his bicep is no big deal, but I know him well enough to know that he is pretending that everything is fine.
We were always very aware of each other’s movements.
“You’re welcome. I figured you might be a bit cold,” he replies, keeping his eyes trained on the TV.
I watch him out of the corner of my eye while he takes a sip of his beer, mentally shaking away the effect his closeness is having on my body.
I force a laugh, and he glances over at me. “This isn’t cold. I’m yet to feel even slightly chilly since I got back from London.” Too late, I realise that mentioning London might not be such a good idea, but he surprises me.
“Yeah, I remember how cold it was when I was there in winter a couple of years ago. Still not as cold as Calgary, though,” he replies, referring to the city where his father’s family lives in Canada.
Before I have time to consider how to respond, I’m sitting upright and staring at him.
“You were in London?” The shock in my voice is more than evident, and he holds my gaze while he shrugs.
“Yeah… I went after a trip to see Kylie and Seth. Did a tour similar to the one they met on through Europe.” I continue to stare at him, and he raises an eyebrow. “What?”
“When were you there?” I ask, feeling my heart rate pick up.
“January four years ago. Why?”
I force myself to sit back. “No reason. Was just surprised. I didn’t think you were that interested in travelling.” Now it’s my turn to fixate on the TV while he stares at the side of my head.
“Seriously? You thought I’d just never leave Australia?” I can hear the dismay in his tone.
“No… I mean… I guess I just never pictured you travelling the world. When I was arranging my British passport, you’d made it seem like you never wanted to go anywhere… You were always happier here.” I can sense we are about to enter dangerous territory, and clamp my mouth shut.
When I was twenty-one, I’d decided to apply for a British ancestry passport.
My grandparents had moved to Australia just before Mum was born, and I knew it would make travelling Europe easier one day if I had it.
But every time I spoke about the places we could go, Will hadn’t seemed that interested.
So the passport gathered dust in a draw. Until the day I ran.
“Yeah, because I was a poor apprentice and wanted to get us set up financially first. I never said I didn’t want to travel.”
Will is still staring at me, and when I look over at him, I’m not at all surprised at the flash of anger I see in his eyes while he shakes his head. He doesn’t say anything further, simply returning his attention to the screen, but I can see the tension in his jaw.
Who was I kidding? The companionable atmosphere between us earlier was just an illusion. There is still too much hurt for him, and guilt for me.
We continue to watch the TV in silence, and I can feel the tension running through him while I continue to rest my head against his arm.
I’m surprised he hasn’t moved it away, but I guess he’s just as much of a sucker for punishment as I am.
I’ll be damned if I’ll be the first one to break the contact, though.
After about twenty minutes, Will lets out a long breath, almost like he’s been holding it this whole time. I turn to look at him, my head still resting against his arm.
“I have so many questions I want to ask you, but I don’t know where to start,” he says, glancing over at me before looking down.
“I guess… I want to hear about what you’ve been doing for the last seven years…
But then, I worry that your answers will hurt too much .
” When he looks at me again, I can see the sadness in his eyes, and I have no doubt he can see the same in mine.
I turn so that my body is facing him, continuing to rest my temple against his arm while I pull my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around them.
“What do you want to know?” I ask, prepared to give him as much honesty as possible.
“I guess… Did you go straight to London, or did you travel first?” He turns to face me, both of us completely giving up the pretence of watching TV.
I hold his gaze, unable to look away even if I wanted to. “I went to London first. I barely left the apartment that I was sharing with a couple of Spanish girls for the first few years. It wasn’t until after Dad passed that I started to travel.”
I push my hair out of my face, and Will slides his arm back towards him until his hand is in line with my face.
He starts playing with a lock of my hair, and I shiver a little, trying not to show how much his touch affects me while he twists it around his finger.
He’d always loved my hair and would often play with it while we were lying in bed together.
I try not to let those memories in as I continue talking. “London has never really felt like home, though.”
I’m surprised that I’ve admitted that out loud. Tara’s feelings about my life in London must be working their way into my mind.
He lets his hand drop away, and I refuse to let myself dwell on the disappointment I feel at the loss of the contact between us.
“Where did you go?” he asks, his voice a little rough.
“So many places. I spent a bit of time in Spain, France and Italy, and I saw parts of the US and Canada.” His eyes flare a little at the mention of the country where his father is from, and I realise I shouldn’t have included that when listing the countries I’d visited.
“I went to South America for a few months. And spent some time in South Africa and Morocco. ”
He nods, looking down at his hands before running one through his hair.
“And did you find what you were looking for?” The sadness in his voice slices through me, like a knife to my heart.
I swallow hard, but refuse to look away when his gaze meets mine. I owe him this much - honest answers to the questions he’s no doubt been asking himself for years.
“I didn’t know what I was looking for Will. I just had this feeling inside me that told me to keep going. Like I couldn’t stop until the feelings inside went away.” I can feel myself becoming emotional and close my eyes for a moment.
I feel him take my hand and open my eyes to look down at our entwined fingers.
“What feelings, Annie?”
He really is a sucker for punishment, and I remember now why there were so many times in the past that it had felt like he was the only person who truly got me. Who could see everything about me and continued to love me unconditionally.
“Grief. Unbelievable, crushing grief,” I whisper, still looking down at our hands. “Grief for me. Grief for us. At what I’d given up. At the future I thought I’d wanted and a past I was running away from.” I feel tears threatening to form, but I refuse to give into it.
I let out a ragged breath, and when he moves his hand to lift my chin, I resist for a moment before meeting his gaze. There is compassion in his eyes, along with a question. One he gives voice to after a moment.
“Was this all because…” he starts to ask, before his words trail off.
I shake my head. “It wasn’t just that. It was a big part of it, yes.
But I’d been dealing with depression for longer than I’d wanted to admit.
I suddenly just had this overwhelming sense to run.
I can’t explain it, Will. It was like I’d bottled up so many feelings from the years prior, and then everything we had going on as well…
It was all just too much.” A tear finally escapes and slowly tracks down my cheek.
Will sits back, and now it’s his turn to stare down at our hands. He slides his thumb back and forth over the back of my hand while he contemplates my words.
“I’m not sure what to say… I wish you’d told me. I could have been there.”
I shake my head. “That’s the thing though, Will. I’d spent nine years running to you with my problems. I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t be in my head anymore, dealing with the endless drama that was my life, and pulling you along with me.”
He clears his throat. “I would have followed you anywhere, Annie.”
I give him a small, sad smile. “I know. And that’s why I had to leave.”
Just as he opens his mouth to reply, a howl comes through Caidin’s baby monitor, and we jump apart, startled. I’d completed forgotten about the kids, which is alarming, though unsurprising, given the tense conversation we’ve been having.
Will goes to check on her, and I watch the screen on the monitor when he enters the room and starts speaking to her in a low, soothing voice.
The little girl stops crying, and he picks her up, moving to the rocking chair I’d sat in earlier.
He talks to her softly while she stares up at him.
My chest tightens when Caidin reaches up with one little hand and touches his face.
It’s so obvious that the two of them have a connection, and it’s heart melting to see.
It also makes me incredibly sad for the life I couldn’t give him.
After a while, he stands up to lie her back down in her cot, and tiptoes out of the room.
“She’s fallen back to sleep,” he says when he walks back into the room.
I nod towards the monitor. “I saw.”
He sits back down, but the moment between us has passed now. I’m beginning to feel drained from the heaviness of our conversation, and I’m relieved when he doesn’t push it any further.
We turn our attention back to the TV, and remain silent until Chris arrives home an hour later, relieving us of our babysitting duties and allowing us to part ways once more.