Later Becomes too Late
What I was about to realise was that the things that truly mattered should never have been left unsaid, undone, or postponed.
Not because of the fear that held us back from taking that chance or risk.
Not because of what others might have thought, shattering our last bit of faith or confidence.
But simply because sometimes ‘later’ could become too late. And never come.
The air hummed with chatter and laughter when I entered the house. I glanced around. All eyes were on me, but the only ones I searched for weren’t there. “Okay,” I breathed as I walked past the crowd. “ Where are you? ”
“Louis?” I found him standing at the bar.
“Oui?” He quickly turned to face me. “Oh.” His eyebrows unexpectedly raised. “Did Miles find you—”
“Have you seen Miles?” I blurted out, my question overlapping his.
“Er…actually, he was looking for you.”
“He was? Um, do you know where he is?”
“Somewhere here.” He whipped his head around the room, then glanced back at me. “Is everything alright with you?” he asked. “It looks like you could use a drink.” And indeed I could.
“Um, perhaps,” I sighed, feeling anxious about what I wanted to tell Miles.
“I’ll start with tonic water, please.” I looked at the barman, then, as I turned to the puzzled expression on Louis’ face, I explained, “For now.” But that second my eyes registered quite a displeased gaze locking with mine; Oh shit , my mother already made her way towards us.
“Actually,” I quickly babbled back, “could you add gin too? Double is great. Thanks! Or, you know what, forget the tonic. Gin. Straight.”
“Florence?” she called out, waving her hand at me. Halfway there, she paused; a distraction presented itself in the form of another person: Aunt Roberta. Phew, a perfect opportunity to slip away unnoticed.
The sign warned ‘slippery when wet’ as I found myself outside.
I wasn’t sure, but I hoped that, perhaps, Miles could be somewhere out here.
Smoking? Rushing towards the pool, “Oh, God!” I let out a blood-curdling yelp as my legs nearly did an acrobatic split, my fingers instinctively latching onto the handrail, clinging to it for dear life.
The rain had almost let up but the ground was still slick.
“Jesus!” I breathed with relief, otherwise this day might have ended in a… death?
Unimpressed, I glanced down at my shoes. “You were meant to keep me steady today, remember?” I mumbled with a sigh. “Oh, great!” My gaze fell onto a few red scratches covering the side of my wrist. It didn’t hurt. Much.
As I steadied myself against the handrail, I whipped my head around; a cool, refreshing air filled my lungs, my eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of Miles.
“Ugh! Where are you?” But when I spotted another yellow warning sign, a slight shiver ran down my spine, and at the thought of my recent near-death experience, I was convinced enough to head back.
After checking upstairs twice I realised, what if, while I was looking for Miles, Miles was looking for me and we both just kept missing each other? Perhaps I should have picked one spot and let him find me there. We needed to talk and, this time, nothing, absolutely nothing was going to stop me.
“Dad,” I found my father in the middle of the crowd, a flute of champagne in his hand. “Have you seen Miles?”
“Oh, Florence,” he beamed at me. “Everyone is looking for someone today. He was just here, asking for you. I think he went—” He pointed towards the kitchen. “—that way.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Thanks, Dad,” I breathed, heading in the same direction. “Miles?” I called out, but again, he wasn’t there; thus, I was absolutely desperate when I checked the closet too. To my disappointment, he wasn’t there either.
“Looking for something?”
“Oh.” I turned to see Blake standing inside the doorframe. “Yes, um, someone.”
“In there?” He cocked an eyebrow at me.
“Well,” I said with a hopeless chuckle, “it’s a long story.”
“Does this story involve Miles?”
“What?” I stared at him, unsure what to say.
“That’s him, isn’t it?” Blake asked, and I owed him the truth.
“Er, yeah,” I nodded.
“He, too, was looking for you, Florence.” Blake said, gesturing with his head toward the window behind me.
“Oh.” I quickly followed his gaze.
Miles stood near the pool, on the verge of glancing my way. I took a step closer, then a few more. When our eyes finally locked, a wave of relief washed over me and a gentle smile grazed both our lips.
“Hey,” he mouthed.
“Hey.” The corners of my mouth tugged wider.
Miles motioned with his hand, gesturing that he was coming my way, and I nodded in agreement.
Then I watched him take a confident stride forward, but as soon as he did, the slippery tile betrayed him, sending his feet out from under him with his first step.
Miles? He teetered momentarily before plunging backward into the water with a splash.
“Oh, God! Miles?” My eyes went wide and I suddenly chuckled.
Just then, Blake appeared beside me, his eyes also glued to the pool.
Anticipating the sight of a sexy, dripping figure emerging from the water, we both kept glancing towards the window, but Miles didn’t come out.
I instinctively knew something was terribly wrong.
“Miles?” A trembling word escaped my lips as my feet started to hurriedly carry me outside through the door.
Struggling to run on my heels, I quickly picked up the skirt of my dress and kicked my shoes off.
“Florence?” Blake called after me, but I could no longer hear him.
“Miles?” My heart pounded and my breath tightened in my chest the moment I saw his face down under the water. “Oh, no…oh, God, no!”
“Miles?” I sprang towards him, the cold, shocking embrace momentarily stealing my breath.
“Jesus!” I gasped, quickly flipping him onto his back.
Oh, no . Panic clawed at my throat. His face pale, eyes closed, a small bruise was forming on his forehead.
Please be okay , I pleaded silently. “Blake,” I choked, struggling to get him out of the water, “Help me! Grab his legs!”
“Is he going to be okay?” Blake’s words echoed in my ears as we scrambled to pull the limp body from the pool. My own dress, now soaked through, felt suddenly heavy.
“Ambulance,” I managed, kneeling beside Miles. “Call the ambulance!”
Miles’ lips were tinged with blue as I tilted his head back.
“Don’t you dare!” My voice trembled with a plea as I pinched his nose shut.
“Please.” Taking a deep inhale, I sealed my mouth over his to deliver the breaths.
Please. Stay with me. My hands were shaking as I pushed his jacket, my fingers interlaced when I pressed them against his chest. Finding myself on the verge of tears, one, two, three…
I began rhythmic compressions. “Breathe!” I felt my vision blur, a lump catching in my throat.
Beside me, Blake’s voice echoed. “Come on, Miles, breathe!”
Miles’ face remained without any sign of life.
“No, no, no. Come back to me. Please.” I kept repeating my words with each push.
“No!” I muttered. “This can’t be happening.
Miles?” Pressing my hands again and again, I cried out, “Please, Miles, breathe!” I couldn’t lose him.
Not him. Not again. “Please!” I pleaded, begging God, or whoever was there, not to take him from me too, my mind taking me back to that horrible night.
The images flashed in my head: shattered glass, blood, the wailing of the sirens, and a beautiful, young life slipping away.
“Please! Just open your eyes.” Something tightened in my chest, dread coiling in my stomach.
Why wasn’t he responding? “No!” With each compression, I felt like my own heart skipped a beat.
“Please, breathe. For me. Goddammit, Miles! I know what I want, do you hear me? It’s you!
You!” Suddenly, his eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding his gaze as he coughed and sputtered, trying to regain his bearings.
“Oh, God.” I let out a shaky sigh, quickly helping him into a recovery position.
“Miles,” I whispered just as my tears started welling up and running down my cheeks.
I knew he was alive; I knew he was alright, but uncontrollable fear kept surging through me and I couldn’t remember the last time I was so frightened and so terrified in my life. Not even at my job.
Miles coughed again, his gaze travelling up to mine with a question. “Did I hit my head, or did you actually say what I heard?”
“Um.” I let out a short, nervous laugh, wiping my tears. “Both.” His cold hand reached my face and I placed my cheek into his palm. “It’s you.” I breathed, glancing at him.
“Come here.” He gently pulled me closer. His arms wrapped around the damp fabric of my dress then tightened at the small of my back. “Are you cold?”
“Just a little.”
Kneeling beside him, I pressed my ear against his chest just to hear his heartbeat. All I could think of was his deep breath and the sound of a steady pounding that momentarily brought me a sense of relief. God, what if… No, I didn’t want to think about that.
“You,” I murmured quietly. “I want you.”
Miles’ hands deftly trailed up, gently cupping my face, then slowly inching me away, his eyes met mine.
His brow cocked and a faint smirk played on his lips.
There he was. Back. To me. “So—” He bit the corner of his mouth.
“—all this time I could have just pretended to be dying for you to finally admit that?”
“Oh, I can see you’ve recovered already,” I smiled at him. “But…I wanted to say it this morning. I was going to…before, well, Jo interrupted us.”
“Yeah,” he smiled back, “always someone.” Then, carefully grazing his thumb over my scar, his gaze softened, locking onto mine. “You saved me.”
“Well, I had to—” A grin broke out on my face. “—since we haven’t quite finished our conversation.”
“Florence Grant.” Miles rolled his eyes at me, murmuring, “God, there is nothing more in the world I want right now but to kiss you.”
“Not if I kiss you first—” And then our lips touched with a gentle caress and everything felt right.
Slowly I realised that it had become very quiet, and as I looked over my shoulder, I saw everyone staring at us. Oh , and there it was, the grand reveal—the mysterious woman was me. Ta-da!