Reasons to Stay

by Lisa J. Hobman

  He traced lazy circles on her bare arm as they sat in silence listening to the music for a while. She closed her eyes as ‘Canonball’ by Damien Rice floated across the room from the speakers. Even though it wasn’t a song that usually evoked memories of Jason, as she listened to the words images of him flashed through her mind. In her mind’s eye, she could see him laid across his bed. She would be resting her chin on his chest and gazing into his melted chocolate eyes as he told her stories about his travels.

  Or he would be striding along the road in London when they spent the day shopping. Every so often, he would glance down at her and smile lovingly. He would clasp her hand in his and squeeze it tight.

  Or they would be sitting on the riverbank in their special place. He’d have his guitar in his lap and would reach forward and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before singing something meaningful that he’d learned especially for her. A smile played on her lips as she pictured him. She couldn’t hear him. Damien Rice’s song became the soundtrack for the images as they rolled around her mind.

  Before she knew what was happening, her chin was tilted upward and lips were covering hers. A hand was in her hair. Tingles travelled from top to bottom, the full length of her spine, following the zipper on her dress as it slowly travelled the same route. The dress was slipped downwards, and an appreciative moan could be heard. She reached her hands up to unfasten the buttons on his shirt, smoothing her hands over his skin as they now lay on the sofa caressing each other. She let out a contented sigh as his lips found her neck.

  Chapter Twenty

  The Friday evening traffic had been a complete nightmare. It seemed that every bad driver had been given a pass out for the night and every road presented more than the normal amount of expected hazards for a proficient rider. Jason had lost count of the number of times he had cursed and honked at people who simply had no regard for other road users, let alone bikes. As if making this journey wasn’t difficult enough.

  He had gone over and over things a million times in his mind. What would he say? How would she react? Was this still what she wanted now that she’d had time to think? A combination of excitement and fear caused the adrenaline to course through his veins. Another idiot pulled out without looking, causing him to swerve and almost come off his bike. His fingers were on the horn and he gestured, but the driver was completely oblivious. Fucking moron!

  Eventually, after what felt like the longest ride of his life, he pulled into the Sure Stay hotel. He removed his helmet before entering the reception and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. The blonde receptionist’s eyes lit up when she saw him. She wasn’t one he had encountered before. He walked over to the desk.

  ‘Good evening, sir.’

  He flashed his best smile. ‘And a good evening to you.’ He bent to read her name badge, and she thrust her breasts forward. ‘Stacey. And how are you today?’

  She blushed and fiddled with her hair. ‘I’m fine, thank you. Are you checking in?’

  ‘I certainly am. The name is Reynolds. Jason Reynolds.’

  ‘Okay. You were in room fifty but…’ She glanced around conspiratorially. ‘I think I may upgrade you to room twenty five. It’s one of the recently refurbished ones.’

  ‘Why thank you, Stacey. How very kind of you.’

  He signed all the necessary paperwork and handed over his credit card to be swiped. She ran through all the usual information about fire exits and breakfasts, and Jason was about to walk away.

  ‘Erm…Mr. Reynolds…I finish at ten if you’d like a little company.’ She fluttered her eyelashes at him and he smiled back.

  With a wink he said, ‘Thank you, Stacey. I’ll bear that in mind.’ He had absolutely no intentions of doing anything with the information, but he wouldn’t complain about the room upgrade, that’s for sure.

  He located room twenty-five, and when he entered he was pleasantly surprised to see freshly painted walls, modern bedding, and aesthetically pleasing artwork adorning the walls. He was only planning on being here one…maybe two nights. If things went according to plan, he hoped Stevie would invite him to stay there whilst they worked out things like living arrangements. Would she want him to live with her? Would she prefer he rented somewhere whilst he was here? He had enough money to do so but not long term.

  After a hot shower, he pulled out the ironing board and plugged in the iron. He was determined to look the part of the wooing lover tonight. He pulled out his white linen shirt and cargo pants. He had enough clothes for a couple of days in his bag, but they were crammed in so tight that if he didn’t iron them he would look like he had been dragged backwards through a hedge.

  Once dressed, he ran his fingers through his hair but left it shaggy, knowing how much Stevie loved to run her fingers through it. After checking his appearance and splashing on some cologne from the tiny bottle he had managed to squeeze into his bag, he grabbed his wallet and the letter he had written and set out to find a cab.

  He stopped off at the supermarket and picked up the largest bouquet of flowers they had along with a nice bottle of Pinot Noir. Back in the cab, his palms were sweaty, and his heart was tripping the light fantastic in his chest. This was it. He was going to tell her what he’d decided. He’d rehearsed the speech over and over in his mind. He had gone over it on the phone with Oliver.

  ‘To be honest, Jason, I would just go and be yourself, son. From what you’ve said, she doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl who needs the pretence. In my opinion, flowers and an I love you will be sufficient.’

  ‘But I want to make this work, Dad. I need her to see that I’m serious. If I go in there just as me, it’ll all come out wrong.’

  ‘Okay. I have a solution to that. You write it down. When she opens the door, don’t speak, just hand her the letter and treat it like a gimmick. She’s got a sense of humour. I think she’d go for that.’

  ‘Do you know what, Olly, I think you may have a great idea there.’

  ‘Yeah? Well, us old folks have our uses,’ he had chuckled.

  ‘Although…won’t it seem a bit mushy?’

  ‘You’re a six foot two giant of a man. Anything you do where you place your heart on your sleeve will be wonderful to her. Just tell her how you’ve felt without her in your life. Tell her that you can’t continue like that.’

  He had nodded even though Oliver wasn’t there to see the gesture. ‘Okay…okay…I can do that.’

  ‘Great. Now when you’re all done, you’ll let me know, yes? Then we can get our flights booked to come see you. It doesn’t matter whether you’re in London or Aviemore, son. We want to come visit.’

  ‘Yeah. I’ll let you know as soon as possible. I can’t wait to see you all.’

  ‘Great. So you go get your girl. And remember…heart on your sleeve, okay?’

  ‘Heart on my sleeve. Got it.’

  ‘Goodnight, son.’

  ‘Bye, Dad.’

  Sitting there in the back of the cab, he remembered the conversation fondly. His relationship with Oliver, Hannah, and his brothers had been taking off. It had been limited to telephone calls and emails, but they had chatted plenty. They had asked if he would mind if they visited, and he’d jumped at the chance.

  The cab pulled up outside Stevie’s house. The letter he had written was in his back pocket, and he clutched the flowers in one hand, the wine in the other. After fumbling around for his wallet and paying the driver, he climbed out of the open door.

  Hesitantly and with his heart still pounding like a jackhammer, he made his way to Stevie’s front door. After several deep-cleansing breaths, he tucked the wine bottle under his arm and rapped on the door. He heard voices inside. Oh shit…she’s got a friend around. Bloody typical. He began to think maybe Dillon had been right. Maybe surprising her wasn’t such a good idea. But then on second thought, he decided whatever he had to say could be said in front of the crazy Science teacher friends he had heard so much about.

  The door flung open. A familiar but fl
ushed face and wide eyes greeted him. Stevie was fiddling with the sleeve of her dress and a bare chested man appeared behind her looking puzzled.

  Jason’s mouth suddenly dried up. Peering over Stevie's shoulder he trailed his disbelieving gaze down the man's body and noticed his fly button was open. He was either dressing or undressing and neither were good conclusions to reach. Jason lost the ability to speak. Stevie's jaw dropped open and her hand covered her mouth. Shock registering in her clear blue eyes.

  Jason's heart leapt and he stumbled to find words. ‘Erm…erm…’

  The man stepped forward and rested a hand possessively on Stevie's shoulder. ‘Are you all right? Can we help you?’

  Jason glanced between the man and Stevie as realisation sank in. The bottle of wine slipped out from under his arm, crashing to the ground and sending shards of broken glass and blood red liquid into the air.

  Jason stared blankly down at the mess.

  ‘Oh God…Jason!’ Stevie called out, but he had dropped the flowers too and had turned to walk away. ‘Jason! Please! Wait!’

  He kept walking, but could clearly hear the raised voices behind him.

  ‘Oh so that’s him, is it? Why the fuck is he turning up here? Were you expecting him, Stevie? Is this why you were in a mood earlier? Because I turned up when you knew he was coming?’ The man’s voice boomed around the quiet street. ‘You’ve nothing on your feet! You’ll get hurt! Stevie!’

  ‘Please…please, Jason! Slow down. I need to explain!’

  He didn't stop, nor did he turn around.

  He could hear her footsteps gaining on him, bare fleet slapped against the pavement. But he carried on straight ahead with determination. He needed to get away. The man’s voice continued to shout, although Jason had blocked out his words. He didn’t much care for what the man thought or said. Nor did he care what Stevie was trying to achieve by running after him.

  Eventually, she reached him, grabbed his arm, and swung him around, bringing him to an abrupt halt. ‘Jason, what the hell are you doing here?’

  He clenched his jaw. ‘I came to see you. Isn’t that obvious?’ His calm voice belied the turmoil beneath his skin. Absently, he wondered if the anguish he felt within was etched all over his face.

  Her brow creased in confusion. ‘But…why?’

  ‘Because in my stupid fucking head I thought it was a good idea. I can see now that I was wrong. You’ve clearly moved on. Now, let go of my fucking arm, or I’ll drag you along with me, because I’m leaving.’

  Stevie closed her eyes for a second. Tears were rolling down her face. ‘I don’t understand. What’s going on, Jason?’

  ‘Nothing is going on. Now get the fuck off my arm. Please.’ He could feel heat rising from his chest to his cheeks. His heart was thumping so hard it was almost painful.

  ‘You…you dropped this envelope on my doorstep.’ She held it out to him with a shaking hand but he stepped away.

  Through gritted teeth he said, ‘Burn it. And the damned flowers. Just burn them.’ His voice cracked as the words tumbled from his mouth.

  Tugging his arm from her grip, he walked away leaving her barefooted and sobbing in the street.

  ‘Please, Jason. Please don’t leave. Talk to me. It’s not how it looks.’

  He shook his head as he continued; again without looking back. How could it not be exactly how it looked? His chest ached. He was too late.

  He’d lost out to another man.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Stevie turned and jogged back down the street, trying to see through the fog caused by her tears and ignoring the pain of the gravel digging into her bare feet. Back at her house she stepped over the broken glass and wine that stained her doorstep. Marcus was sitting, fully dressed again, on the sofa when she walked in. His elbows rested on his knees, and his head was in his hands. He didn’t glance up when she entered, but sat there staring at the floor.

  ‘Marcus, I’m sorry about all that. I honestly had no idea he was coming.’ Her voice wavered as she sniffled a little.

  He looked up, confusion etched on his face. ‘Why was he here?’ His voice was a hoarse, hurt-filled whisper.

  ‘I…I actually don’t know. I don’t get it. We ended things. I ended things. I told him I couldn’t do the long distance thing. So I have no clue what it was all about.’

  He dragged his hands over his hair. ‘The thing is, Stevie. The way you ran after him… You’re still very much in love with him, aren’t you?’

  ‘I…I care for him deeply. It’s not something that can just be switched off. There’s so much history—’

  His eyes were now filled with a resigned sadness. ‘You never had any intention of giving you and me a fair go, did you?’

  She stared into the deep blue of his irises. ‘I wanted us to work. I was trying. I really was. There’s nothing I want more than to move on.’ As she spoke the words, she realised they were a lie. Moving on was the last thing she wanted.

  He stood and stepped in front of her. ‘But when I was kissing you…when I was touching you…were you thinking about him? Were you wishing it was him? That’s why you couldn’t go through with sex with me, isn’t it? That's why you pulled away.’ She wished his questions were rhetorical, as she couldn’t find words that wouldn’t hurt him further.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about this now. Please can we just—’

  His nostrils flared and he rolled his head back. ‘That means the answer’s yes, then. Every time I caressed you. Earlier when we nearly ended up making love… The only reason that happened was because you were thinking of him.’ He dropped his hands and stepped away. ‘You know, I could handle you still having feelings for him to a point. I still have feelings for my wife. I get it. Like you said, there’s history there that you can’t just switch off, but this…your reaction when you saw him. I could’ve been on fire, and you’d have still run down the street after him.’ He gestured towards the window. ‘I need some time to think. And I think you do too. Decide what you want. If it’s him then so be it. If it’s me…well…we’ll talk. But I have to know one hundred per cent that you’re committed to giving us a try. I can’t go through this when you get reminiscent, Stevie. It’s not fair.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I really am.’

  He grabbed his jacket and walked to the door. He looked back with his jaw clenched and deep sadness emanating from his very being. ‘I know we haven’t been together long and I know that I have baggage, but I care for you, Stevie. It’s happened fast for me, and I can’t help that. But I don’t want half of you. I want to know that you’re mine completely. Otherwise, I’d rather be alone.’ And with that he left.

  She watched him walk down the street whilst talking on his phone, presumably calling for a cab to take him home. She looked down and realised she was still holding the envelope in her hands. Jason had told her to burn it. The front was blank, but she had a feeling something important was inside. She closed the door, then slumped onto the sofa, and ripped it open.

  Hi Stevie, my beautiful soulmate ,

  You’re probably wondering why I’m standing before you like some kind of bad mime act whilst you read this. But I was advised to place my heart on my sleeve, and I was so terrified I would muck things up that I decided it was better to write down what I wanted to say to you. That way I wouldn’t miss a single word. I know I’m probably grinning like a complete tool at the moment, and I can only apologise to you for this. But here goes…

  When I left you ten years ago, I did so with such difficulty. My heart broke with each step I took away from you. Knowing that I was breaking your heart at the same time made that fact so much more painful. The physical pain I felt was sometimes unbearable. What you and I had wasn’t just puppy love. It was deep and intense. I spent so much time sitting alone and listening to songs through my headphones that reminded me of you. I tortured myself over and over, but it felt like I deserved to feel that way.

  When you turned up in Scotland, I was so horrible to yo
u, and I can’t express how bad I feel for that. Seeing you knocked me sideways. You were still as beautiful as I remembered. But you had blossomed into this stunning, sexy, curvy woman. I wanted you from the second I realised that it really was you. But I was afraid of letting you in. I didn’t deserve you and I know I still don’t.

  Making love to you was the most amazing experience I have ever had. EVER. Seeing you fall apart in ecstasy was just the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. I think I said that before. But I’m being real and honest and that’s how I feel. Watching you leave me on that bus shattered me into a million pieces. I could and should have done something about it. But I was a coward.

  Coming down to London and spending time with you there made me see that the place has lost its fear factor for me. All the bad things have gone now. And it’s where you are. And I want to be where you are. I need to be where you are.

  Not so long ago Dillon and I visited that campsite up in Shieldaig that Charles at The Book Depository mentioned. I got to chatting to the guy who owns it. Remember? Jim who used to work for Charles? Well, he talked real sense to me. He made me see that it shouldn’t matter where we are. As long as we’re together. That’s what counts. Being together. I can’t be in a place where you are not. I can’t wake up every morning and look at the same sky you’re looking at but know that you’re hundreds of miles away.

  I want to wake next to you and make love to you. To hold you in my arms and watch you fall apart beneath me. I want to love you and be loved by you. Someone I know once told me that I was their puffin—because they mate for life. That’s what I’m offering you. My love, my heart, and my life. If you’ll have me. I will live wherever you want me to live so long as I’m with you. It doesn’t matter anymore.

  Say you still love me and that we can start the rest of our lives together today. Please.