When Jacquie pulls out of the driveway and we go inside, we discover Tyler has spread himself out on the lounge room floor and is watching football. He looks comfortable and I’m happy.
I give up sleeping with Valentine for these two days, in return for a weekend of both fun and trying times – in equal measure. I sleep in our bed; alone, and Valentine sets up camp in the lounge room with Tyler, which works well. Jacquie drops him off every Friday evening, already showered and with a prepared meal. I’m never quite certain if the meal is an act of generosity on Jacquie’s part, or if it’s subtly designed to be insulting.
Valentine slowly recovers, so we begin to walk to our local water park most weekends, which again, creates both fun and trying times. I’m really growing to love Tyler; he’s so serious – he reminds me of myself – the protector. I think he likes me. He’s mad about football, so he spends a lot of time explaining the rules to me – which I really love – even though we all know I don’t understand.
When Jacquie collects Tyler, Valentine retreats behind a wall of guilt and self-pity; it kills me. Watching him and the way he is with his son is like nothing I’ve ever witnessed. My heart aches to see him so sad. He is such a great dad. He plays with Tyler – as much as his damaged body will allow – and shows him how to love, respect women and teaches him the true meaning of family bonds.
‘What are you doing with me?’ he asks one Sunday evening, as we watch Jacquie pull out of the driveway with Tyler waving goodbye.
‘I’m learning to grow up,’ I joke.
‘You don’t need to grow up – you’re only twenty-one, you have your whole life ahead of you.’
‘And I love my life with you.’
‘I have nothing to give you,’ he says, still watching Jacquie’s car disappear down the street and around the corner.
‘You give me everything – come on, don’t be silly.’
‘I give you a jealous ex-wife and a child to help care for,’ he says, pulling me closer.
‘You give me a jealous ex-wife – who I can cope with, and the most precious young man I have ever met in my life, and one day, we can have more kids and live happily ever after.’
I feel his body grow tense. ‘No. No more kids.’ He says this firmly.
‘Why?’
‘I have Tyler – and I couldn’t even do that right. I don’t need any more lives to ruin.’
‘I may like to have children one day.’ I haven’t really thought about this for a long time. Doesn’t every girl want to fall in love, get married and have children?
‘Then what are you doing with me?’ he says, softly, as he pulls me into him. I put my head on his chest; his heart is beating fast.
‘I love you.’
He puts a hand over my cheek and kisses my forehead. ‘I love you – infinity,’ he replies.
There’s nothing more to say.
Chapter 8
The following weeks pass like rain clouds threatening to ruin a sunny day. I lose my job at the Wellness Centre, because I have too many days off caring for Valentine. The insurance company finally sends a cheque for the loss of the Kawasaki and Valentine buys a red one. Apprehension about getting on the bike eats at me, and I know my nagging at Valentine to buy a car is straining our relationship a little. Jacquie continues dropping Tyler off every weekend, making it perfectly clear that ‘her son’ is not getting on the back of a bike; the one thing we agree on. And the big “D” finally happens.
‘So, will you marry me now that I’m officially a single man?’ Valentine asks one night as we stand in the kitchen, whilst he gives me a cooking lesson.
‘No,’ I giggle. It’s just a game.
‘I mean it!’ he says, coming to stand closer. I wish he wouldn’t do that – that’s not playing fair.
‘I’ll think about it,’ I offer.
‘Hmm, well, I guess I can wait,’ he chuckles.
‘You never did tell me what happened between you and Jacquie,’ I say, trying to slip the comment in discreetly.
His eyes darken and he frowns.
‘There’s nothing to tell.’
‘Why did you break up?’
‘I wasn’t right for her,’ he says quietly, still frowning.
‘And what’s that supposed to mean – you’re perfect,’ I tease, trying my hardest not to sound jealous.
‘I’ve been singing in bands since I was seventeen,’ he says, as though this explains everything.
‘And…?”
‘I’m a different man than I was before I met you… you’ve converted me…’
‘From what?’ I hope for an answer that won’t upset me, forcing a smile.
‘From being the one who was always going to be the one to leave, and from being unfaithful…’ He stops mid-sentence. I must look shocked.
Did I really think he wasn’t a typical musician – trouble maker and rule breaker? I start to picture half naked girls hanging off him while he puffs on a cigarette. This isn’t my Valentine. I told you so, you stupid girl, my intuition chimes in.
‘You asked me once if I loved her, and I answered you honestly. I loved her – but not the way I love you. And a man has needs,’ he stops and runs his hands through his hair. ‘When I was seventeen, I was heavily into… oh God, why do you ask these things, Princess?’
‘Because if I don’t ask, you won’t tell me.’
‘But, I was a bad person.’
‘I doubt that. I think you were looking for ways to stop your pain.’
He holds my gaze for a minute then drops his eyes to the floor and runs his hands through his hair. ‘Alright, I’ll tell you. But, I don’t want you to think I’m a monster.’
I feel a pang of sadness. Why does he worry so much about what I’ll think of his past? ‘Just tell me.’
‘Well, I knew Jacquie in school. She was one of the ‘easy’ girls. And we all mucked about with pills and drinking, you know?’ He looks at me and I’m just watching him talk. ‘No, um… I guess you don’t know.’
‘I do, actually. I haven’t always had angel wings.’ That’s my attempt to lighten the mood. He takes it.
‘Oh? Pray tell, Miss Abbie… there was a time you didn’t have a halo?’ I giggle. When he speaks like this, it really reminds me of our age difference; he’s so mature.
‘No way! This is your story,’ I say, covering my face and peeking through my fingers.
‘Fine, for now!’ he says, pulling my hands down and kissing each one. ‘Jacquie and I hooked up a few times. I don’t remember much. We were usually wasted. But, eventually, we decided that we may as well get married, because she was pregnant, and I was so disgusted with myself, that I couldn’t just walk away.’
‘So, how does that make you a monster?’
‘Because, it shouldn’t have happened. Then I kept behaving like that. Taking drugs and sleeping with… Anyway, I was an idiot. My mother would’ve been very disappointed. I eventually moved back to Dad’s and started actually spending quality time with Tyler. I tried hard to get along with Jacquie, only, sober, I realised we had nothing in common – except Tyler.’
‘So, you acted like an idiot for a few years, married the wrong person and became the father of a gorgeous little boy. I still don’t see how that makes you such a bad person.’
‘Well, when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so bad. But I’ve always liked drug-fuelled sex… but now I only like it with you – without the drugs,’ he grins. And I grin back.
I need to stop worrying. He loves me and what he did before we met has nothing to do with me.
‘How much of this tomato paste do you want me to use?’ I change the subject. I haven’t forgotten about our conversation about having children.
‘A large tablespoon... let it fry for a minute with the onion, to release the aroma...’
I put the paste in and stir, watching it soften. Subservient to the heat. Now I am the tomato paste and Valentine is the pot – our love is the heat – and I am beginning to think that
this may not be enough.
∞~∞~∞~∞
The argument about having children is one I can’t win. He’s adamant that he won’t be good enough. We are spiralling out of control. If Valentine isn’t ready to move forward from his past mistakes, then maybe our love for each other isn’t as strong as I thought. I don’t want to be the one left behind, nursing a broken heart.
Maybe it’s time to put a bit of distance between the earth and the moon?
I start looking for an apartment in the city. I think that if I’m planning to get another office job, and I can’t drive, then the city is where I need to be. Valentine doesn’t like it. He begs me to stay. We cry a lot – together and apart. Sam drives us to inspect prospective apartments, in the old Valiant, but Valentine always says, ‘It’s too far away.’
I finally find a nice little ‘bedsit’, right in the heart of the city; next to our grand old Cathedral. It’s just a kitchen and a room with enough space for a couch and a double bed; it has a tiny bathroom, but all laundry has to be done in the communal washhouse. I like it. It’s a perfect fit for me. But it kills me to leave Valentine. I promise to call him as soon as I’m settled, so he can come and visit. It takes two weeks before I’m ready to let him back into my life.
∞~∞~∞~∞
To celebrate my new-found freedom, Sarah convinces me to hit the town with her for a girl’s night out.
‘So when is Valentine coming to visit?’ Sarah looks worried.
‘I don’t know, he said tomorrow, he’s been spending a lot of time with Tyler – and Jacquie,’ I answer, trying to apply my eyeliner in a perfect line.
‘Is he going back to her?’ Sarah asks.
Her casual question feels like a knife blow to my heart. Sharp and nauseating, and right there, impossible to ignore.
‘I don’t know – maybe it would be for the best,’ I say, not believing a word of it.
‘But he loves you,’ she insists. Now she’s back peddling.
‘This isn’t a Jane Austen novel, is it?’ I try hard not to sound annoyed.
‘Nah, I guess not.’ Sarah pours us a drink. She’s a good friend.
‘Thanks,’ I say, not really feeling like a night out on the town. And I know I shouldn’t be drinking. My mind flashes back painfully to the last time I had alcohol and my heart tightens.
Sarah lifts her glass to mine. ‘C’mon, we’ll have a good night. Cheers.’
‘Cheers to good friends and good times,’ I say, tapping her glass with mine and taking a sip. It tastes bitter as it goes down, but I have no choice – I can’t stop living.
∞~∞~∞~∞
I wake up alone – well, not completely – my intuition is sitting beside me, extremely unhappy. We’re having a visitor today. My heart does a cartwheel, feeling over the moon, flipping around the room like a twelve-year-old gymnast.
I jump up and only just make it to the toilet before I throw up. Why do we drink when we know how crappy we’re going to feel the next day? Oh, I feel so sick.
Get in the shower, my heart is cheering. A nice hot shower and brush your teeth; these words make me vomit again.
I make it through the morning, only just. When there’s a knock at the door, my stomach threatens to revolt again. I take a sip of water before opening the door.
Valentine. He’s still incredibly sexy. He stands there in jeans and a white t-shirt; his muscles rippling under the thin cotton and his leather jacket and helmet tucked under his arm. He has flowers. Pink carnations, my favourite. My heart falls to the floor.
‘Hi,’ he says.
‘Hi.’
I can’t help myself. Before I can even think it through, I’m in his arms and we are on the bed. We curl up into each other. I love this place.
‘What happened to us?’ he whispers as we lay together, listening to the silky sounds of George Benson play on my stereo.
‘Nothing has happened,’ I lie.
‘You don’t love me like you used to.’
‘That’s just stupid, of course I love you.’
‘I can’t stand that you’ve moved into this tiny apartment. And Tyler misses you...’
‘Tyler doesn’t need me in his life... he has you and his mother.’ There, I’ve said it, I’ve brought up the subject of Jacquie.
‘So, now what?’ he sighs.
‘I don’t know, I want to be with you every day, but that comes with consequences that we can’t agree on.’
‘Of course we can agree, I’ll give you anything that you want,’ he reassures me.
‘Anything?’
‘Yes, just come back to us,’ he pleads quietly.
‘A house?’ I ask.
‘Sure.’
‘How about... a kitten?’
Valentine chuckles. ‘If you want.’
I take a deep breath. ‘Children?’
His mood darkens instantly. ‘No children,’ he says quickly. ‘Don’t you think that I’ve done enough damage?’
I don’t have an answer. I feel like crying.
‘Come on, Princess, let’s not talk about this,’ he pleads, pulling me closer and kissing my forehead.
‘Are you going back to Jacquie?’ Why did I ask this? This is probably the most stupid thing I could have chosen to say right now.
‘No,’ he says, but I’m not convinced. I push a little further.
‘Have you seen her lately?’
‘Of course I have, but only to see Tyler...’
‘I don’t mean during access visits,’ I probe a bit more.
‘I don’t love her,’ he says.
‘That wasn’t the question.’
‘I haven’t done anything with her...’
‘But you want to?’
‘You’re being ridiculous, Princess, please stop being silly.’
‘I just think that you don’t want to move forward, because you’re too busy looking behind,’ I announce, sitting up in bed.
‘I have a son with her, but that’s all. I love you, and only you.’ He sits up too, but he doesn’t wrap me up in his arms like he usually would. He puts his feet over the side of the bed instead, and stands up. He gets dressed.
I watch him, but say nothing.
What can I say? I want to have a future with this man. I love him. More than words can even describe - more than air. I know he loves me. But we’re in different places. Our moon and earth are revolving, completely out of sync.
He’s waiting for me to say, “I love you – infinity,” but I can’t say it. I won’t say it.
Valentine kisses my forehead and leaves me sitting on the bed. When the door closes, I cry. I get up and pack some things, and cry some more. I have to get out of here.
I call my mum. As soon as she picks up the receiver, I start to sob uncontrollably. I can hear her breathing, waiting for me to stop.
I finally manage a few words. ‘Mum, I want to come home.’ My head is throbbing.
‘Oh, honey – of course you can. Are you okay?’
‘Yes Mum, I just need to be at home. When can you be here?’
‘I’ll get your father to come and get you now – pack some clothes. We can organise the rest of your things tomorrow. Sam and a couple of his friends can get a trailer and arrange everything.’
My mum, my rock, my angel.
I gather some more of my belongings and make sure I’m ready when Dad arrives.
I don’t know why I’m running away. I should be talking to Valentine. I need him. But I can’t. I have no business messing about in his life. If I’m not there to distract him, he’ll go back to Jacquie and Tyler.
He left her before we came along. He loves us. My heart sobs, sitting on the floor curled up in a ball.
He can’t give us anything, whispers my intuition. I want to get married and have children, one day. It’s that simple. Or is it?
∞~∞~∞~∞
Mum has a bed made up for me in the study. Izzy and Jade are so excited that I’ve come home. And Sam gives me a bear hug. I w
rap my arms around his waist and lean my head against his chest. He’s so tall; a hug from him almost crushes me.
We have dinner. Mum makes spaghetti, my favourite comfort food.
‘Are you okay?’ Dad asks. It’s the second time he’s asked this question since he collected me from the apartment. And just like the last time, he accepts my nod and leaves it at that. A broken heart is a job for Mum to fix; Dad’s no good at this kind of do-it-yourself task.
‘You should get to bed and get a good night sleep. Things will be clearer in the morning,’ he offers.
I nod and finish off my spaghetti. Who am I trying to kid – my life is a mess. I’ve gone from being a single working girl, with her whole life ahead of her, to being an unemployed, homeless wreck, with only myself to blame.
I spend the night crying and falling in and out of a restless sleep. No surprises there. I don’t think my anti-depressants can fix grief. I decide that during the day I have to keep up appearances. I have to look as if I have it together. But when the house is quiet, I have every right to plunge into that big black hole that I’ve dug. Maybe Valentine will come and get me, like my Prince Charming on a white steed – or maybe I’m just delusional?
When I wake up, it’s not without dread. The house is empty. Mum must be outside hanging washing. It’s eight-thirty. I have some toast with a small amount of Vegemite and soak my sorrows in a long hot shower. I can cry in here without anyone knowing. I feel sick. Empty. I suddenly feel like throwing up. I wrap myself in a towel and step from the shower. With my head hung over the toilet bowl, I’m reminded of my first fight with Valentine and him rubbing my back. I cry quietly as I sit on the cold toilet floor. Why do I still feel sick? I haven’t been drinking and it can’t be food poisoning. I feel my face. It’s cool. No fever. Maybe it’s stress.
Realisation floods in. My intuition gasps, and asks frantic questions. When was your last period? Have you been taking your pill?
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