Chapter 19
NINETEEN
Jarvis doesn’t reappear for the rest of the evening, so I finish eating and drinking alone and retire to my couch. I probably should have just taken one of the bedrooms, but I’m now kind of annoyed with my ex-husband, so a bit of space is probably a good thing.
I turn all the lights off and settle down on the couch. I’m next to a big window that faces a grassy field with a line of trees at the back, and the moon is out. It’s about three-quarters full.
Scotland is so beautiful. I think of the TV show Outlander, and how Claire time travelled back to a whole other era.
I can’t wrap my head around being back in my own lifetime, but I wouldn’t say no to meeting my own Jamie.
So far on my expeditions, I’ve only run into my two ex-husbands.
Not exactly the definition of high romance.
I look out at the field. The moon has lit it up slightly, but it’s still quite dark compared to home.
And then I see a bunch of glowing eyes emerging from the line of trees.
What on earth?
My rational brain tries to tell me it’s obviously some sort of farm animal, but I can’t quite make out what.
It’s super creepy, especially because their covering is a dark colour, blending in with the background.
They stop before I can fully identify them, but I feel like they’re staring directly at me.
And then the mooing starts.
Okay. At least I’ve established they’re cows. But it’s not a gentle mooing. They sound angry. Would an angry cow charge a window?
It seems like one of them is getting into an altercation with another cow. Jeez.
I hear a loud thump. What was that?
The mooing gets more intense, and my imagination gets the better of me. I leap to my feet, grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around me as I hurry up the stairs. How does this castle feel so terrifying all of a sudden?
Before I second guess myself, I head for the top floor, hunting for where Jarvis is camped out.
He’s in the same room we stayed on our honeymoon, which brings back way too many memories.
I tiptoe in. “Are you asleep?” I whisper.
“No,” he whispers back. He turns on the bedside lamp and looks at me. “What’s wrong?”
“There are cows fighting outside the window downstairs.”
He chuckles. “What?”
“I know it sounds silly, but it was actually quite scary. And did you know cows’ eyes glow in the dark? I saw them coming toward the castle looking like a bunch of creepy aliens.”
He breaks out into a full laugh. “I kind of want to see that.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep on the couch right next to them.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Do you want to swap?”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay.” He gets up, and I see he’s dressed in a pair of loose black cotton pants but no shirt.
I avert my gaze, trying not to look at his bare chest, which I know is one of his key assets.
Whenever I’ve switched on the TV and seen him on whatever show he’s a guest on, he always seems to find a reason to take off his shirt.
And yes, I do remember running my hands over that chest many, many times when we were together.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he says, heading for the door.
“’Night,” I say, sounding weirdly breathless.
He disappears, and I try to ignore the feeling of disappointment settling in my chest. I must be a bit delirious from all the travel.
Which is perfectly reasonable considering I haven’t slept properly in several days.
And I don’t really count my few hours in the nineties as restful.
I’d woken from that feeling more on edge.
I lie staring at the ceiling, wondering what’s going on with me.
And then I hear noise on the steps.
Jarvis reappears. “You didn’t leave the blanket, and it’s freezing down there.”
“Oh.” I look at the blanket I’m still wrapped in. It felt too intimate to get under the covers that Jarvis had been using, so I’d stayed on top with my own bedding.
“Also, the moon is too bright, and I can’t figure out how to draw the curtains. They’re all tied up in some complicated sash.”
“So what are you saying?”
“You can go back down, or you can share the bed with me.”
My heart starts pounding. “Wait. Weren’t you the one who said there were several other beds in this place?”
“Yes, but that was hours ago when I wasn’t about to collapse from exhaustion. I don’t have the energy to go in search of extra sheets and make up a whole other bed right now.”
I hesitate. Is he just making excuses? I mean, this situation is all my doing.
After a moment, I sigh. “If I stay, will you stick to your side?”
“We were married for two years. You should know my sleeping habits.”
I do remember. All too well. I’m lucky he’s wearing pants since he used to sleep naked.
“Just don’t get any ideas.”
“I’m too tired to even talk right now.” He climbs into the bed and faces away from me. “Goodnight. Again.”
He’s acting so normal about everything. Is it all an act? Or has he changed his mind since he last wrote to Florence? Maybe now that we’ve met up again, he’s having second thoughts.
Am I okay with that?
I really must be delirious. My brain is playing on a loop.
All right. Rachel, get some sleep, and you can worry about all this in the morning.
I close my eyes and turn my back to Jarvis as well.
How on earth did I end up here?
***
When I wake the next day, it seems that Jarvis and I are now facing each other. We must have both somehow rolled over in the middle of the night.
He’s still sleeping, and I can’t help but study his face.
He seems different to how I remember. Maybe it’s the hair.
And that scruff. He used to be so polished, almost to the point that I had a constant inferiority complex.
I’m all for visiting the hairdresser and nail salon regularly, but I’ve never been good with makeup, and I’m not the kind of person who gets expensive hair removal or skin treatments.
I’ve always looked my age, whereas Jarvis often looked younger.
Now, he seems the three years older than me he really is.
And I kind of like it.
Oh God. I don’t even have the excuse of tiredness now. I check my watch and see it’s almost ten-thirty in the morning. Thankfully, the blinds in here block out the sun, so we were able to catch up on the sleep we missed during transit.
I reach out and hover my finger an inch from his eyebrow. I have an indescribable urge to trace it.
Jarvis opens his eyes, and I quickly pull my hand back.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“You… you had an eyelash,” I say hurriedly.
“Oh. Do you want to get it for me?”
I blush. “Uh, okay.”
I pretend to remove an imaginary eyelash from under his eye and flick it away.
“Hey. What about my wish?” he asks, faux-outraged.
“Sorry. I didn’t think you believed in that stuff.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t do it anyway.”
“Well, it’s probably on the floor. Make your wish and blow where I threw it.”
He stares at me, a half-smile playing on his lips. “I’m not sure what else I should wish for.”
Else?
I ignore the obvious unasked question and roll out of the other side of the bed. “I’m going to have a shower.”
“I’ll make some breakfast. See you down there?”
I nod. This is getting way too domestic for my liking. I hurry off to the bathroom and start stripping down.
I’m in the process of turning on the hot water when the bathroom door opens. I scream.
“Sorry, I was just leaving you a towel. I promise I’m not looking.” Jarvis tosses a towel on the floor. “I’ll go now.”
It takes me a moment to recover. It’s not like he’s never seen me naked before, but he doesn’t have the right to just barge in like that anymore.
I wash quickly in case he decides to find another excuse to come in while I’m showering. And then I remember us sharing this very shower on our honeymoon.
Nope. I can’t go there.
I wonder if being in a different country, and one with so many positive memories of Jarvis has done something strange to my brain.
I have to remember why we broke up in the first place, and last night very vividly reminded me. I should have learned my lesson from my quickie engagement and subsequent marriage breakdown with Frankie, but I figured I was much older and wiser by the time I met Jarvis, so I knew what I was doing.
But no.
I stupidly thought I could help him overcome the moodiness that seemed to hit him randomly and frequently.
When he was in good spirits, I felt like the luckiest woman in the world. He has amazing charisma, and when he uses it to his full advantage, it’s truly something.
But that made the lows so much more devastating.
There would never be any sign of a crash coming, but when it did, he would retreat, often physically, and I’d not see him for days.
He’d also switch off his phone, so I wouldn’t be able to contact him.
The first time it happened, I worried he was going to harm himself, but he came back three days later, apologised with flowers, and then pretended like nothing had ever happened.
I tolerated that unhealthy cycle for almost two years.
During that time, he disappeared on average once every two months, and he could see I was getting more and more upset each time, but it kept happening.
He’d break down in tears on his return and beg for forgiveness with increasingly elaborate apology gifts, but eventually, I had enough.
I knew I couldn’t live with that emotional rollercoaster for the rest of my life, and I didn’t want to enable his unhealthy patterns.
So I left.
I did ask him at the time what triggered his moods, but he wouldn’t tell me. Now I know that there was something specific hanging over his head.
I wonder if I should force him to tell me now.
But would knowing the truth matter?
I’m starting to think that maybe it might.