Chapter 37
THE RETURN
One laptop. Two glasses of whiskey. Three minutes till show-time.
Ash and I sit on the sofa in my London flat, watching the auction screen with bated breath.
The catalogue of the new build lies open before us, filled with plans for a carefree life together in a gated community. Our dreams just a decent bid away.
‘Let’s go!’ Ash beams, lacing my fingers in his. ‘It’s happening exactly according to plan.’
I nod, a myriad of emotions coursing through me as the clock ticks down.
The auctioneer’s voice breaks the silence – ‘And we’re off! Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the online property auction.’
Bidding starts low, and every digital click of a mouse builds the tension before us.
The auctioneer reminds us that this is an opportunity to purchase a piece of iconic property in one of Ireland’s most desirable locations at a very attractive price.
Ash squeezes my leg and pours us both a second whiskey, the first one not even touching the sides.
We both know that our future happiness lies on this screen.
The auction begins with bids from around the world – Sydney, Chicago, Dubai, but none have matched the reserve.
For a moment, everything seems to stop and there’s silence.
Then suddenly, a flurry of activity: bids fly back and forth in the tens of thousands.
How far will they go? The numbers turn green as the reserve is met, signalling one minute left until the highest bid is determined.
I take a quick sip of whiskey before shutting my eyes tight – I don’t want to watch. The bell clangs out sharply: SOLD!
The overseas bidder’s price appears on the screen and we suddenly become motionless. The reserve exceeded beyond my wildest dreams. The bid is accepted. The Lake House is sold.
The Lake House is SOLD!
Ash jumps out of his seat, laughing and punching the air. ‘We did it! It’s a brand-new start, sweetheart!’
But instead of joining him in his enthusiasm, I find myself studying the photos of The Lake House.
It’s gone. Just like that. Is this really what I wanted?
Did I do the right thing by leaving The Lake House behind – the Kennedy family home; my legitimate family’s home?
If only there had been a way to keep it while heading off in this new direction.
‘You okay?’ Ash inquires with tenderness, softening his joyous face.
‘I’m fine,’ I reply, plastering a grin across my lips. ‘Just feeling peculiar about it… everything happened so quickly… it was all over in no time.’
‘Yes, thank goodness – we deserved a bit of speed after all the pointless flat hunting we did! Anyway, we made it! It’s done!’
Ash heads to the fridge to open a bottle of champagne. ‘Hey, Daisy, what’s that line from Jerry Maguire?’
‘You complete me.’ He can be endearing in his own way. And I know he’s excited about the future we now have together, that this is a new start for us, and that bolsters me.
‘What?’ He comes back to the room with a chilled bottle and two glasses.
‘You complete me,’ I say again.
He shakes his head and laughs. ‘No, it’s SHOW ME THE MONEY!’
I feel my stomach drop as I hear Ash’s words. Is he kidding? My mind scrambles to think of something to say, but before I can utter a single syllable, my phone chimes. It’s Jonathan O’Connor.
‘That’ll be the confirmation call from Ireland,’ I tell him, pausing before I answer.
Ash flashes a thumbs up at me and fills a glass with champagne as he sends out an update to his family and friends.
I leave the room and step into the kitchen to take the call. ‘Hey, Jonathan. Everything good?’
His voice wavers, tension emphasising each word. ‘The auction is over, but… there’s a catch. The buyer wants to remove the non-eviction clause.’
My heart skips a beat. This was non-negotiable. ‘Absolutely not. The Lake House comes with the tenancy clause so Moya can stay, no matter what.
And then suddenly I’m saying, ‘Just reject the offer.’
‘Daisy? Are you okay?’ Jonathan asks.
‘Yes. Reject the offer. I’m taking The Lake House off the market.’
‘What? You’re sure you just want to throw in the towel – take it off the market altogether? How about you list it with a local agent – that way, you’ll have more time to think it through?’ he says.
I can tell by his voice that he’s taken aback by my decision.
‘Thank you, Jonathan,’ I say, fighting to keep my voice steady. ‘But I’ve decided I’m not going to put it up for auction again, at least not yet.’
His voice lowers. ‘Why the change of heart?’
The words spill out before I can stop them.
‘It’s too soon. I’ve just come to terms with my past, and something inside me is telling me there might be more to uncover, and even to treasure.
I need to hold on to that house for a little while longer, just to collect my thoughts and see if life has anything else in store for me. ’
Jonathan clears his throat. When he speaks, his tone sits somewhere between shock and curiosity.
‘There may be some disappointed investors, but I understand. If you feel there’s more to uncover, it’s important you take the time you need.
’ His next words carry a hint of affection.
‘You are sure about this, Daisy? Even with your new knowledge, you might never find the answers you’re looking for. There are no guarantees – for anyone.’
‘I know, Jonathan,’ I reply, my voice holding an unfamiliar determination, excitement coursing through me. ‘But for now, it’s what I want. I need to trust my intuition.’
Silence settles between us for a moment. It’s an odd kind of camaraderie, understanding someone’s choices without necessarily agreeing with them.
‘I respect your decision, Daisy,’ he says. ‘I’ll take care of it for you right away.’
I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I end the call with Jonathan.
The weight of my decision hangs in the air.
I’m proud of standing up for Moya, but I can’t help but feel guilty about how this affects Ash.
I’ve upended all our plans, our future together now uncertain.
Yet, deep down, there’s a part of me that wonders if this delay is a blessing in disguise. Are we really ready for this leap?
I walk over to the window and take a deep breath.
The crisp autumn air fills my lungs as I stare across the tiny communal garden, the soft hues of countless falling leaves painting wholesome, warm colours across the chilly scene.
The trees’ leaves are rustling in the gentle breeze, creating a soothing soundtrack to my internal conflict.
They remind me of the day Ash and I first met.
It was this time of year. I stood, wrapped up in a scarf and bobble hat, waiting for him to show up with the keys so I could view this flat.
I barely noticed him until he struck up a conversation, and then the words seemed to flow so easily, his optimism, the energy, the chemistry.
The memory makes me smile, and yet I can’t help but wonder if the magic’s gone.
Or if there’ll only ever be magic when Ash is getting what he wants.
And what if we want different things? Watching that proposal on the beach on my first day in Ireland made me question if I’m being selfish for expecting joy in my own life.
We’ve both had to make some concessions in order to get where we are now, but when does compromise become sacrifice? How much is too much to lose?
I realise how much our future had become intertwined with the sale of The Lake House.
Yet, perhaps it’s that very interconnectedness that caused these doubts to grow, to fester.
With real courage and determination, I prepare myself to move forward.
I need to communicate with Ash and tell him how I feel.
This isn’t just about the house anymore; it’s about our future, whatever shape or form it may take, whether we’re together or not.
‘I need to talk to you, Ash,’ I say as I return from the kitchen to the sofa, my eyes meeting his. I explain what was said in the call and why I don’t want to sell the house for now.
He furrows his brow and looks down at his feet, saying nothing. After a moment of silence, he nods slowly before sitting down heavily with a deep sigh. ‘I thought we had a plan,’ he murmurs, looking up at me. ‘Now it’s all gone up in smoke.’ His voice is filled with hurt and confusion.
I reach out my hand to take his, but there’s no warmth in our touch anymore, only distance, but I don’t want to hurt him or cause any pain.
‘I understand how you feel, Ash,’ I say softly.
‘But think about it. We seemed to be moving so fast. Maybe this is a sign that we’re not meant to move forward together.
It’s time we take a hard look at what we really want, as individuals. ’
‘So, you’re asking me to change what I want?’ he says.
‘And you’re asking me not to,’ I reply.
I take a deep breath and look into his eyes. He looks so desperate, it breaks my heart.
‘Ash, I’m sorry,’ I say softly. ‘But I don’t think this is something we can fix with words or even more time together. Our differences have been gently pulling us apart for months now. We aren’t meant to be together.’
He shakes his head in disbelief. His hands grip mine tightly as he pleads with me to reconsider. His voice cracks with emotion as he speaks, his words coming out in a desperate plea for me to stay with him, for us to keep moving forward together.
‘I know you can make somebody the happiest girl in the world, it’s just that I don’t think it’s me, and deep down I think you know it too…’
He looks up at me and speaks after an eternity of silence. ‘I understand what you’re saying,’ he says. ‘But… I don’t get it. And that’s where you’re right, because I don’t get you, Daisy. I don’t get you anymore; I don’t get how you want anything else than what we could have right here.’
Despite the pain in his voice, I can feel the love he has for me – and his fear of the unknown. But deep down I know that this is the right thing to do.
‘So, what are we going to do now?’ he asks me.
Taking a deep breath, I make my decision clear. ‘I’m going to follow my gut and not sell the house. As for us…’ I shake my head slowly and say in a soft voice, ‘I think this is goodbye.’ I take one last look at him before gently pulling my hands from his grasp.
Ash looks at me, his face betraying the hurt and confusion he’s feeling, but he doesn’t say anything. He simply nods and walks out of the flat, away from me and everything we thought we wanted, slamming the door behind him.
It’s over. It’s done.
I know this feeling. I can taste it. I felt it as I followed my mother’s hearse down the street. Just a handful of us, her few close friends and my social workers.
Grief.
Grief for the childhood I never had with my father.
Grief for a life unlived, unliveable, a life unrealised… the life I may have had growing up in The Lake House… if things had been different. Different times, different circumstances, different possibilities.
Grief for all the ways I’ve not been true to myself and what that may have cost others as well as me.
I walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower, letting the hot water cascade over me. As I stand there, water streaming down my body, I think about what Moya said, that it’s all up to me and always will be my choice alone to make. I just need to find the courage to choose.
Well, this is me. Choosing courage.