Chapter 25 #2
No, I think. By that stage I was back in Dublin, smoking weed and causing trouble, sabotaging my own life and wallowing in self-pity.
All of it was so damn unnecessary. Why couldn’t they have just left us alone?
We’d have made mistakes, for sure, but none of them could ever have done this much damage to us both.
I wasn’t there to help her through one of the worst experiences of her life – she did it all by herself, and couldn’t even reach out to her parents for support.
There was no grief counselling, no confiding, no dealing with it.
She was a child who lost everything, and she was all alone.
We cling to each other, there in the sunlight in this familiar place – as ever, in our own bubble.
This time, one of grief. We stay like that for maybe a minute, maybe an hour, it is impossible to tell.
All I know is that I never want to let her go again – but I also need to respect her decision.
To work with her, and to learn to accept it if she says this isn’t for her.
If our future together will always be overwhelmed by the past.
She pulls away slightly, grabbing tissues from her always grandly stocked bag.
She passes me one, laughs as we dab our eyes.
‘God, look at the state of us… I should have told you. It just all moved so fast, didn’t it?
The shock of seeing you again, then finding out what really happened.
Beth leaving, us, um, getting close again… falling in love again.’
‘I’m not sure I ever fell out of love with you, Jane. Not really. But yes, it was fast. It was glorious and confusing and wonderful – but now I understand a bit better. How you must have felt, carrying that secret.’
She nods, meets my gaze. ‘I should have told you. I wanted to, but something always held me back. Part of me wondered if you’d resent me for it.
Part of me wondered if there was any point, putting you through that pain, when there was nothing you could do about it?
I should have known, though, that it couldn’t stay buried.
It couldn’t just go away – it was always holding me back.
And when I saw Catrina and you, and imagined you having a family with her…
well. It was too much, and I ran. I’m sorry for that too.
I really am rubbish at communicating. I think I’ve been on my own too long. ’
‘You and me both. I’ve been so busy being angry with you, I didn’t stop to think about why you’d reacted like that. Selfish arse, like most men.’
She shakes her head, frowns. ‘No. You’re not like most men, Rory Callaghan, so don’t be down on yourself. I just… I don’t know what I want. Well, I do know what I want. I’m just not sure I’m capable of it.’
‘Do you love me?’ I ask, my heart racing as I wait for her reply. She blushes slightly, looks away.
‘Yes,’ she finally says. ‘Absolutely I do. That’s the one thing I am sure of.’
‘Okay. Well that’s a promising start. I love you too – with absolutely every fibre of my being.
But I also know that none of this is simple.
That we’ve run before we can walk. That there is a lot for us both to figure out…
but if you’re willing to try, then I’m still all in, Jane.
Still yours. We can take it as slowly as you like.
I will never push for more than you’re willing to give, and I will always be honest with you.
Here, Bonnie Bay, wherever – even if we’re apart, we can find a way to be together. ’
She trembles a little against me, and I hold my breath waiting for a reply. I should be saying more. I should be expressing myself better.
‘How… how would it work?’ she asks, her voice a whisper, her fingers holding on to mine.
‘I don’t know exactly. But I think it could. How about we start with something simple? I can drive you home.’
She grins, and it is a joyous thing to see that she still can. ‘You drove here? I assumed you were on the train!’
‘Nah. I just suggested the station for dramatic effect.’
She shakes her head. We both know it’s not that straightforward – that being here again, in this place, means something. It’s the place where it ended, and perhaps it could be the place where it begins again.
‘What happens after you drive me home?’
‘Whatever you want to happen. I could stay – just for the night, or for as long as you like. I think we have a lot to talk about. A lot to process. Maybe there’ll be some more crying, but hopefully some laughing as well.’
She nods, and stares down at the river, at a small family of ducks wandering around the bank.
‘Yes, okay,’ she says simply. ‘Drive me home. We can talk, and laugh, and we can rest… but I can’t promise miracles, Rory. I can’t promise fast.’
I stand up, and hold out my hands. She takes them, and I help her up. I gaze into those astounding liquid brown eyes of hers, and lose myself all over again. Even a second in this woman’s heart is worth a lifetime with anybody else.
‘I don’t want fast,’ I tell her, as we stroll hand in hand back the way we came. ‘Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.’
She looks delighted, and laughs at the quote. ‘Friar Laurence! That’s not your line, Rory – you’ll always be Romeo!’
I draw us to a halt, wrap my arms around her, kiss her upturned lips. I don’t know what will happen in the future. I don’t know how this will work out. But for now, we are together – and when we are together, the world is a better place.
‘And that, my love, is a role I’ll be happy to play forever…’