Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Liaden
T he butterflies in my stomach are trying to dive bomb their way out of me. I barely slept last night for excitement, and my hands haven’t stopped shaking since I leapt out of bed early this morning.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned for sure over the past ninety days, it’s that absence really does make the heart grow fonder. It’s a cliche for a good reason.
The girls made me go to therapy myself over the past few months, just to get things straight in my head. I only went three times, as that’s all I felt I needed, but it was really good to get an outsider’s impartial perspective on Dean, and how he was, and how I was, and what I need going forward.
Ultimately the answer was a healthy Dean by my side, with clear boundaries and healthier practices. But helping to define what those were for me was exactly what I needed.
I’ve been staying busy as best I can, throwing myself into work over the past three months, and making those music videos for Dean to let him know that I still thought of him.
Still loved him, more and more by the day, in spite of not seeing him.
It was a great project that allowed me to feel like I was helping, and kept my head space somewhere positive and creative.
The Wishbone gang have been fantastic, checking in with me every day, offering to help out with anything I needed, and including me in everything they did.
They’ve put their monthly Dungeons and Dragons game on hold until Dean can rejoin, but Emily has helped me create my own character in anticipation, and they meet up every week for a board game night.
And I’ve been going to krav maga with the girls religiously.
It feels good. It’s a great outlet for the stress I’ve been in, and it’s useful, too.
We all went back to karaoke once, but I felt Dean’s absence so keenly that I couldn’t enjoy myself, so we didn’t do that again.
But, in a matter of a few minutes, he’ll be right in front of me. No longer absent.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. Even though he’s told me he loves me and can’t wait to see me, it’s been a long time since we’ve been face to face. What if something’s changed? What if too much has happened for us to start afresh and be happy together?
I bite my lip. I can’t let my mind go down that road. It’ll spoil the day, and I’m not going to do anything that ruins Dean’s first day back.
So, once I’ve parked in Hazelwood Hills’ car park, I make sure I take three deep breaths before I go inside.
My legs want to run to where Dean is, but they’re also shaking so much that I don’t risk it.
Before I walk in the door, I smooth down the hem of my purple sundress, bought specially for the day.
My hair is down, as I know he likes it that way.
I can’t wait for him to touch it again. I’ve missed that. I’ve missed everything.
I step in, and it’s much as it was three months ago, though I don’t bother looking around. I just walk straight to the receptionist, who greets me with a pleasant smile.
“Hi, I’m here to pick up Dean Gastright?”
She beams. “You must be Liaden. He’s told us all so much about you.” She looks at a point just over my shoulder and nods. I turn, and …
I walked right past him. When I walked in, I didn’t even see him sitting there, waiting for me.
He stands, a warm smile on his face, with peace that I’ve never seen there before.
He’s standing straighter, shoulders no longer hunched in, and he’s a much healthier colour, his previous greyish pallor entirely gone.
His eyes are bright and clear, with only the barest trace of the old dark shadows under them, like the merest echo of what they once were.
His hair is still messy, so some things never change, but it’s freshly washed, still slightly damp at the ends.
I stare. I never imagined he would look so good, so different, and yet so much like himself. It’s the most wonderfully weird experience, disorienting but beautiful. “H-hello…” My voice sounds breathy, flimsy, like a girly girl dissolving into a puddle of swoon.
His smile splits his face as he walks up to me, cups my face in his hands, and kisses me gently, brushing my hair back from my face the way I did with him on the day he came here. Hi , he mouths, gazing at me like I’m everything good in the world.
“I, uh…” I seem to have temporarily forgotten all of the languages I speak.
Every single one of them. I look away, hoping that not looking directly at him will allow me to regroup and concentrate for a few seconds.
“You look…I mean…are you ready to go?” His wheeled suitcase is waiting by the sofa, with his old leather jacket slung over the handle.
He nods. I’ve said my goodbyes, except for Evie here. He reaches over the counter and gives her a hug, which she happily returns.
“Bye, Dean. So happy for you,” she says, winking at him and smiling broadly at me.
He lengthens his suitcase handle and reaches for my hand. I take it, lacing his fingers tightly with mine, unable to pull my eyes away from his face as we walk out.
How is this the same man? He’s…lighter, somehow. His shoulders are back and straight, not hunched. He just isn’t the same person. It feels like I’m inviting a wonderful stranger into my car.
And then, when he’s closing the boot after putting his suitcase in there, he takes both of my hands and presses our foreheads together. The familiar and beloved smell of his lemon shower wash, the same one I’ve used on myself every day since he left, fills my senses.
And just like that, it feels like we’re both home again.
The drive back is so strange, but not in a bad way.
He just watches me, like he’s slaking his thirst for the sight of me after a long drought, and I find myself giggling nervously and unable to think of anything useful to say.
I think about turning the music on, but that doesn’t seem right.
I fidget so much that in the end he settles his hand on mine when I change gears.
Is everything OK? he asks.
“Yeah, of course,” I say instantly, not wanting him to think something’s not right. “It’s just…a lot. Seeing you so… You look fantastic, and it’s brilliant. It’s just…hard to describe.”
Thank you. You look incredible, but then, you always do. He looks thoughtful. Do you want to…maybe stop off for a drink? Just to relax for a bit?
“That actually sounds really good,” I admit. Seeing such a different him after being without him for so long has thrown me for a loop, and I need a time out.
We find a pub just off the dual carriageway, the Ten Bells, which has a large and almost empty beer garden.
I buy us both soft drinks, though a brandy would be so good right now, but I’m driving.
He clinks his glass against mine and takes my hand when I set my drink down, running his forefinger up and down each of my fingers in turn, like a wavelength pattern.
“How are you really ?” I ask. Because that’s more important to me than anything else.
He considers my question. Right now, possibly the happiest I’ve ever been, he says with an almost sheepish smile. You’re here, I’m feeling better, the future looks much more bearable than it did, and also, did I mention you’re here? He grins, kissing my fingertips.
“So…how recovered are you? Scale of one to ten?” I need to know this stuff so I know what I’m looking at.
It’s…hard to answer that. I mean, in real terms, I sleep through the night now.
I’m on an antidepressant that works for me.
I can cope with panic attacks way better.
They’re not gone for good, but they’re few and far between, and they’re much less severe.
He shrugs. I will never be able to listen to The Power of Love without it being really, really hard, but the flashbacks aren’t…
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but they’re not a problem anymore.
My eyes widen. “That’s incredible, darling. You’ve worked so hard…” I bite my lip, steeling myself for the next part. “I am sorry how it happened, though. I feel like we ambushed you.”
You have nothing to apologise for , he tells me firmly.
“I felt awful,” I mumble, and he lifts my chin with his finger.
I’m serious. You got me into treatment that actually helped.
Especially the EMDR. Yeah, I was pissed off at the time, but I knew you were right, even then.
And so was everyone else. It was hard, but it worked out better than anything else has, and I’m grateful.
I eat better and exercise properly now. I’m so much better off in every way.
I can be the man you need me to be now, and that’s worth every single second of the past three months.
I pick up his hand and kiss his palm, resting my cheek there. “My darling.”
And I can actually take part in a proper future together…if that’s something you still want? For the first time, he looks a little uncertain, searching my face for a clue.
“I do,” I say at once. “More than anything.” He softens in relief, running his thumb over my cheek. It tingles pleasantly. “Oh - we should Facetime everyone. I know you’re seeing them all tomorrow, but they’re dying to say hi and see how you are.”
Sure , he says easily. I take out my phone and dial Eli, sitting closer to Dean on the wooden bench so we can both fit on screen.
He answers after two rings. “Oh my god,” he says, his normally stern face alive with happiness. “Dean, shit, you look… ”
Like shit? Thanks a lot, he laughs, but he looks so relieved to see Eli.
“No, you look fucking brilliant. I am so glad to see you, frère .”