by J K Ashley
“It’s about John.”
Her words ring out in the silence of our living room, and I feel myself tense. I was afraid of this. Is she finally going to tell me something I don’t want to hear? That she loves John after all, that she wants to be with him despite the way he treated her? Has he got some sort of Stockholm syndrome hold over her, making her care for him despite the terrible person he was?
“After he left, all those years ago –“ She pauses, sucking in a deep breath. “Back when we were young and together. He left me and went to England without looking back, you know all this.”
“I do.” I nod and continue to run my fingers through her hair, pausing at the side of her temples to rub my fingertips in soothing circles.
“Well, I went into an immense depression. You know this too, a bit. But I never told you the extent of it. It lasted a whole year. I could hardly sleep, and when I did manage to sleep I could hardly wake up. My appetite was terrible and I never wanted to hang out with anyone or do anything enjoyable. My first year of college was antisocial and terrible. I called my mother nearly every night crying about how I wanted to go home.”
“She was afraid, she was afraid I would do something terrible to myself but I never did.”
“And I’m so happy that you’re still here,” I say softly, my voice thick with emotion. Rachael sucks in a deep, quavering breath before continuing.
“I went to find him.”
“All the way to England?” I ask, surprised. “I thought you’d never left the country?”
“Yes,” she says stiffly. “I flew to London during the first few weeks of summer, after I came home. I told my mother I was going on a road trip with a friend. I knew through the grapevine that John had moved to London permanently and was living there now. So I set out to find him. It was a terrible idea, I know. But I just needed to do it. I needed to closure.”
“I can respect that,” I say after a distinct pause.
Rachael looks up at me with wet eyes. “Really?” she says softly. I nod and she sniffles.
“Go on.”
“I managed to get in touch with him, once he knew I was there. We set up a time and place to meet, just some little coffee shop. As much as I wanted to see him again, I didn’t want to be alone with him again. So we met in public, and I’m so glad that we did.” She pauses and draws in a shaky breath. I squeeze her shoulder comfortingly. “He’d changed, James.” Her voice cracks with those three short words. “He’d changed so much. The John I knew in high school was nothing like the John you know today. He wouldn’t kidnap someone and swindle them for money. He was kind and soft-spoken. He did have some problematic tendencies, of course. I can see how he transformed into the person he is today. He would lie sometimes, act a little manipulative. But he would always feel bad about it afterwards and apologize. But I guess going away completely destroyed his conscience, and the bad parts took over.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I don’t enjoy listening to her talk about the old John, the John she loved. Part of me wonders if she wished he were still the boy she’d known in high school, so that she could still be with him instead of me. Am I a second choice?
“When we met at the coffee shop, I immediately knew something was wrong. He had this presence about him that I’d never seen or known before. The boy I’d loved so much was completely gone, and this monster was left in his place. I wanted to leave as soon as I sat down at the table with him. And he clearly didn’t want to see me, either. At first I couldn’t figure out why he agreed to meet with me, but I found out quickly. He threatened me.”
Anger rises in my chest, but I fight it down. I can’t interrupt her when she’s spilled her heart like this.
“He said he would hurt me and my family – especially my family – if I ever tried to find him again. It was scary, James. He really meant what he said. I knew deep down that he had fallen into the wrong crowd, that he knew scary people who had the means to do what he was threatening. So I left. I went home and I pretended John never existed and was never a part of my life.”
Silence falls over us for a moment, before her quavering voice breaks it again.
“I was wrong to think that I could just forget him. He stayed with me for a long time. It helped when you came along.” She pauses and grabs onto my hand, squeezing it. “But not as much as I would have liked. John was still in the back of my mind all the time. I thought about him and I pined for him. I wanted the old John back. I didn’t want to think about him and hurt anymore.”
Part of me wishes she would stop talking, but I know that I have to hear her out. So, I stay silent as she continues to speak, her words breaking me.
“A few years ago things started to change. I thought about John less and less. I was happy to be with you, really and truly happy, with no reservations. You remember how I burst into tears when you proposed? That was real. The feelings I have for you are real.”
“So why do you sound so upset?” I ask, my voice cracking. “I just want to understand what you’re trying to say.”
“I’m upset because when I saw John for the first time again, back at the reunion . . . a part of me was happy. Deep down, my heart leapt. The rational part told me no, stay away. But the irrational part wanted to see him and speak to him. I got over that feeling, I swear I did. But the knee-jerk reaction was there. I’m pathetic, James.” She shushes me as I try to protest. “I’m pathetic for ever having loved a man like John, and for milking feelings for him after all these years, despite knowing what he’d turned into. I don’t deserve a good man like you, James.”
At first, I don’t know what to say. I hurts me to see Rachael feeling this way. It hurts me to know that she feels so inferior, that she’s looking down on herself like this. I don’t know how to gather the words, how to tell her that she’s amazing and everything I’ve ever needed or wanted. But I do my best.
“Stop it,” I say gently. Tears are leaking out of her eyes now, and I wipe them away. She turns in my lap to fully face me, lying on her back on the couch. “You need to stop talking like this, right now. I won’t listen to you put yourself down like this.”
She sniffles and nods, and I let out a heavy sigh.
“People do crazy things for love, Rachael,” I say heavily. “I was a fool in love once, back when I was younger. I felt like this girl was the one, my soul mate. I imagined us getting married, but things didn’t work out. I did some stupid things. I was foolish. But we shouldn’t let these things from our past drag us down. It’s not right. I don’t care that you loved John, I care that you want to be with me now.”
Rachael looks up at me with wet eyes.
“We’re in love, Rach. I love you too much to lose you.”
For a few long moments, neither of us say a thing. Rachael snuggles closer to me on the couch and I stroke her blond hair, listening to the sounds of her soft breaths. Her sweet scent drifts up to my nostrils. Impulsively, I rearrange her on the couch so that I can lay down beside her. It’s cramped and narrow to lay here, but I enjoy the sensation of her warm body pressed close against me. She lays facing away, but then flips over so that our faces are just millimetres apart. She reaches up and traces the tip of my nose with her soft fingertips. I smile at her and kiss her, before letting my hand drift down to caress the front of her stomach.
“I know,” I say softly. A memory flashes before my eyes, of rummaging through the bathroom, looking for my razor that had gone mysteriously missing. It turned out Rachael had merely rearranged to bathroom but I eventually found it. However, in the process I knocked over the bathroom trash and found something very, very interesting.
“You know what?” Her eyes widen, and I can tell that she’s worried. I shake my head reassuringly and squeeze her stomach lightly.
“I won’t ever let anyone harm you,” I say, not answering her question. “I won’t let John hurt you. I won’t let anyone else hurt you either. I will always take care of you, you and our baby.”
It takes
a moment for recognition to register in Rachael’s eyes. She tenses beside me, but I keep rubbing her skin soothingly.
“Baby?” Rachael’s voice comes out shrill and panicked, and I know that I’ve thrown her off guard.
“Shhh,” I say. I dip my head down to ghost my lips across hers, before pulling away. I don’t open my eyes for a few moments, instead contenting myself to breath in and out deeply.
“It’s fine, Rachael,” I say as I finally open my eyes again. “I’m not upset that you didn’t tell me. There’s been a lot going on, with John and the wedding.”
“You’re sure you’re not angry?” she asks quietly.
“Absolutely not.” I smile at her.
Rachael pulls away from me, and for a moment I think that I’ve really upset her. But she’s merely examining me, pulling away to get some distance between us. Her eyes dart around my face as her brow furrows.
“Well, how did you find out?” she asks simply. “Seems like you’ve known about this for a little while.”
I shrug, throwing her a playful grin. “Who knows,” I say with a sly grin. “Maybe I just know all. Maybe I’m omniscient.”
“Stop it with your big words.” She slaps me on my shoulder, but a grin is splitting her face now. Warmth grows in my stomach to know that she’s slowly coming back to herself, embracing her old humour and energy. I’ve missed this. John brings out the worst in her. “Seriously,” she says, finally stopping with the play fighting and resting against me again. She places her head on my chest and cranes her neck back to look up at me. “How did you know?”
“Remember that day you were happy and peppy?” I asked, staring up at the ceiling above us. “Just last week. I noticed it especially because you hadn’t been very happy the day before.” I pause. “The day of the reunion, when you saw John. You were unhappy, and then the next day you were on top of the world.”
I feel her nod against me.
“That night I was looking for my razor.” I know she’s grimacing as I say this, she hates it when I shave – no matter how often I explain to her that it’s for professional reasons. “I knocked over the trash can, garbage went everywhere.” I grimace comically at the memory of picking up dirty tissues off the tiled floor. “And lo and behold, I found a pregnancy test.” I quirk a brow and look back down at her.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Rachael asks. She looks truly puzzled, like she couldn’t imagine why I would’ve sat on this information for so long.
“I wasn’t going to, at first,” I say. “I wanted to run to you as soon as I found it. I wanted to hug you so tight you could hardly breathe and lift you off your feet, spin you around and around.” I grin at the image dancing in my head. “You know, all that cheesy movie stuff. But then I stopped and I thought about it. This is a stressful time. You had just run into John and weren’t really enjoying your days off as much as you should have. This was supposed to be a happy time for us, the weeks leading up to our wedding. We were supposed to be joyful and without a care in the world, knowing that we’re going to become husband and wife and be together for the rest of our days.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. I shake my head.
“It’s not your fault. If anything it’s John’s fault, but really it’s just how life went for us. We can’t control everything. Life doesn’t move along perfectly, just the way we’d like it to.” I clear my throat. “But anyways, I thought about it and I decided that with all the stress going on, it was the least I could do to let you tell me this news yourself. I wanted you to tell me on your own terms. I wanted to see how happy you were when you were finally ready to let me know.”
I place a kiss on the top of her head, and she sighs happily against me.
That night, we marry. I call up my family and ask them to come back, and they’re more than happy to oblige. A few of our friends show up as well, but it’s mostly close family members. We manage to get ahold of a Justice of the Peace.
The ceremony is held in our backyard, quaint and quiet. Samantha runs out to get some last-minute decorations, while our parents set up the chairs in the backyard. Soon enough there are flowers lining the aisle and fairly lights strung over the back of the chairs and over the makeshift arch we set up at the end of the aisle.
It’s not perfect, in the traditional sense. It’s no elaborate wedding by any means. But looking at Rachael as she walks down the aisle towards me, bedecked in her ivory white dress and with that beautiful smile across her face . . . well, it’s a perfect wedding for us.
She walks steadily towards me, placing one foot carefully in front of the other. Her father swells with pride beside her and gives me a stern yet comical look as he hands her off to the altar. I watch the older man as he shuffles back to his seat, and feel warmth fill me.
Not only do I adore Rachael, but I adore her family as well. To join us all together like this – it’s amazing.
The Justice of the Peace leads us in the ceremony. I find myself hardly listening to most of the woman’s words, instead gazing at Rachael in awe. She’s so gorgeous, and I can’t believe that we’re finally here. She’s my bride. We’re about to get married and give ourselves to each other for the rest of our lives. It’s an amazing feeling to know that soon enough, she won’t just be my fiancée anymore.
Soon enough, it’s time to say the magic words.
“I do,” I say, locking eyes with Rachael in a smouldering gaze.
“I do,” she responds softly.
“You may kiss the bride,” the Justice says.
It feels as if everyone in our backyard is holding their breath as I bend my face down to meet Rachael’s. Our lips press together in the softest, most tender kiss I’ve ever experienced. When we break apart I realize that our families are clapping wildly.
We walk down the aisle with smile across our faces.
We have a modest reception right in our backyard. My mother – the saint that she is – manages to scrounge up some food last minute, and we have a grand old time until late in the evening. The festivities don’t wind down until shortly after midnight.
“We can leave all this until the morning,” I say with a yawn, slinging an arm over Rachael’s shoulders as we observe the mess that is our backyard. She rests her cheek against me and I feel her nodding.
“Can you promise me something?” I ask her suddenly, as we turn to go back into the warmth of our home.
“What is it?”
We settle down onto the couch. Rachael’s wedding dress billows out beneath her, its wide train flowing into my lap. I stroke my fingers across the soft fabric.
“I want our family to be a priority,” I say after a deep breath. My eyes linger on her midriff, where I know a life created by us is growing. “We need to really think of these things now. Our family has to be a priority and I want you to promise to tell me if anything should ever bother or threaten you again.”
Rachael is silent for a moment, and anxiety stirs in my stomach.
“Of course,” she finally says, her voice low. “I’ll never hide anything from you again, James.”
I look over at her to see her eyes sparkling with tears. Guilt grips me and I reach over to catch a tear from the corner of her eye.
“I’m not upset,” she says, pulling my hand away as a smile stretches across her face. “Really, I’m not. I’m happy. We’re a family.”
She hugs her stomach, rubbing her sides up and down. Her eyes are wide as she looks at me.
“We really are a family,” I say. I lean back against the couch. My eyes trail up her form, from the beautiful make of her dress to the bare skin of her back. One of her cousins was able to replicate the hairdo she wanted to wear for the wedding, it was coiled and pinned in some elaborate pattern on the back of her head. I want nothing more than to touch her, so I do. My fingers touch her back and she draws in a sharp breath.
“We’re having a baby,” she says simply. She smiles. “We are a family.”
I nod. “Let’s leave all th
is behind,” I say, making a sweeping motion around the room. “Not this. I like this house, don’t worry.” I crack a grin, and the brief panic that flared in her eyes dies down. “I mean this state of our lives. This worry and fear we’ve been living with for the past week. John came back into your life and he created something ugly. But now he’s gone and we need to embrace that, you know?”
Rachael nods. She turns to face me, her eyes eager. “Yes,” she says breathlessly. “I want nothing to do with him anymore. I don’t even want to think about him. He doesn’t matter anymore, he’s irrelevant. We’ve gotten the money back, and we’ve gotten our lives back. Now it’s time to focus on the future.” I pull Rachael closer, she falls against me bracing her hands on my chest so as not to fall over. But then she relaxes and I draw her even closer. We embrace and kiss passionately as I trail my hand up her back and grasp at the zipper on the back of her dress.
Our lips stay locked as I draw the zipper downwards. We embrace in wedded bliss.
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About the Author
J K Ashley
J K Ashley was born and raised in Kent, England. She has a passion for writing Romantic novellas to include Thrillers, Contemporary and Paranormal Romance. Her books are a mixture of emotion, suspense and action with plenty of unexpected twists and turns. Her aim and approach to writing is to keep readers engaged within the story.