I took in a deep breath and then slowly exhaled. ‘Okay, I’m ready,’ I told Indie, but the words were more for my benefit. Nerves twisted like vines in my stomach.
I opened the box again with a quick snap. I wanted to see them. I wanted to see them properly. I wanted to find Michael in them.
I gasped.
The white gold earrings were beautiful. So much more beautiful than I could have imagined, and so much more than just a piece of jewellery. I was in awe, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I was reminded then why I'd decided to have them made in the first place; so that I could take him everywhere I went; so that he wouldn’t be a pile of grey dust forever; so that he wouldn’t be grey.
Of course, it felt strange that they were made from my husband’s ashes, but the way they sparkled when the light hit them just right reminded me of him. Of how his eyes used to sparkle. It was like he was there, saying hello to me, telling me he loved me.
I smiled and quietly studied them for a while, watching
how they caught all different colours in the light as I slowly moved the box. With a gentle hand, I carefully took them out of their case. They weren’t as delicate as I thought they’d be. In fact, they felt quite strong. Unbreakable. Just like my love for Michael. Love and grief overwhelmed me at the same time. An unusual, saddening, uplifting combination of the two.
But most of all, I felt comfort. As long as I had these with me, I’d never be without him again. They were like an arm around my waist, a shoulder upon which to rest my head, a whisper of reassurance in the dark.
I smiled and went to the bathroom mirror to put them in. Indie followed as she always did and watched me. I carefully took off their backs and secured the studs in my ears. They looked lovely. So, unbelievably lovely. Sparkling in the light, lighting me up, as Michael had. Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad idea after all. Maybe it was the best idea I’d ever had.
‘See,’ I heard Michael’s voice in my head. ‘You look beautiful.’
I smiled, and tears welled in my eyes. ‘I love you, Mr Mills. So, so much.’
Chapter Nine
12th November 2008
I sat in my bedroom, going through prospectus after prospectus.
I’d collected so many that they covered my cream carpet, and the smell of their glossy pages tickled my nostrils. I just couldn’t decide where I wanted to go to University. I knew I wanted to study journalism, but I was having trouble finding the right course and the right place. The deadline to apply was sometime in January, so I still had time, but in between exams and Christmas, I didn’t think I’d find much of it.
‘Any closer to deciding, love?’ Mum said, appearing in my doorway with two mugs of tea. It would be close to my twentieth cup of the day. It was a good thing Mum had only bought decaf for the past year.
I shook my head and stood from the floor. My legs ached; I’d been sat cross-legged for hours after finishing sixth-form at half-past two today. ‘Cardiff is meant to be one of the best for journalism, but I don’t think I want to be in Wales. I’d love to stay near Manchester, but there isn’t a course that I like enough to justify it. There’s a course in Winchester that looks good.’
Mum pursed her lips and sat on my bed. I joined her and took one of the teas. ‘What does Michael think he’s doing?’
I shrugged and took a sip of tea. It warmed me straight away. There was something about tea that was so comforting, like a hug that you could drink. ‘He doesn’t know. He’s coming over in a bit, and we’re going to try and decide. I hope we end up somewhere close.’
‘That would be nice, but you need to address the possibility that you might not,’ she said warily.
I nodded, trying not to let the idea upset me. ‘I know, Mum. I know. I just don’t want to think about that right now. I don’t know what I’d do without Michael. Or Max.’ And I didn’t. They were the only proper friends I’d made. At eighteen, I still didn’t have any close female friends. I never minded. I loved Michael and Max, and I’d grown close enough to Mum that I could talk about anything girly with her. But the idea of being without them made me feel like that nervous little girl in Year Seven again, worrying about who to speak to.
‘You’ve grown up a lot, sweetheart,’ Mum said softly. ‘Michael has brought out a confidence in you that I don’t think you see yourself.’
I smiled. ‘You think so?’
‘Absolutely. You used to care so much about what people
thought. Remember on your first day of school when you were so worried about how your hair looked?’ she laughed, and I nodded. ‘Michael loves you for you, and I think he’s made you love you for you, too.’
‘Maybe. But I’m worried that I’m nothing without him,’ I said honestly.
‘Darling, of course, you’re not,’ she said with a tsk. ‘You’re a beautiful, bright young woman with a wonderful future ahead of her. One that I’m sure Michael is in no matter what happens, but sweetheart, give yourself more credit and do what’s best for you. No matter how far away Michael is for the next few years.’
After tea, Michael came over, and we sat on the floor in my room, looking at brochures together.
‘You know, I think I’m leaning more and more towards Huddersfield,’ Michael said without looking up as he read from their prospectus.
My brows raised. ‘Huddersfield?’ It wasn’t exactly far from here, but it was nowhere near any of the universities I’d been looking at.
‘Yeah. I’ve read it’s one of the best for architecture. And it doesn’t hurt that Patrick Stewart is the chancellor.’
‘But…,’ I trailed off, unable to think of a reason he shouldn’t go, especially now he’d thrown in the Patrick Stewart thing. How could I object to an institution where Charles Xavier himself was the chancellor?
‘Are you okay, Lina?’ He finally looked up at me.
I nodded quickly, but tears clouded my vision.
‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ Michael said, concerned, tossing the prospectus to the ground and rushing over to me. ‘Don’t cry, Elina.’ His arms wrapped around me.
In his arms, I started to sob. ‘I’ll just miss you, that’s all. I can’t imagine not seeing you every day.’
He laughed lightly. ‘Oh, don’t be silly. Nothing will change. I love you so much. I’ve loved you since the day I met you, you muppet.’
‘Then why don’t you want to be near me?’ I suddenly snapped.
‘Whoa, Lina, don’t be like that,’ he said indignantly, loosening his hold on me slightly.
‘But it’s true,’ I cried, shrugging away from him. ‘If you wanted us to be together you’d want us to go to universities near each other!’
Michael stood up. ‘Elina, you don’t even know where you’re going yet!’
‘You want to go to Huddersfield, when you know I’ve been looking at Winchester! That’s miles away! If you wanted this to work, you’d go somewhere closer!’ I shouted, getting to my feet too and throwing down the prospectus I held in my hand. How could this not be important to him?
‘Well, I don’t see you looking at courses in Huddersfield, or somewhere close, like Leeds!’
‘How will this work if we don’t see each other, Michael?’ I cried. ‘I’m sorry! I just don’t want to lose you!’
‘Do you honestly think studying apart would break us up, Elina?’ Michael said aghast.
‘What if you meet someone else?’ I sobbed, picturing him meeting someone far prettier and more fun than me. It made me ache.
‘What if you do?’ he snapped back.
‘I won’t,’ I said quietly. The thought was ludicrous. ‘I love you.’
Michael sighed. ‘I love you, too, Elina, but we have to think about our futures. If going to different universities is what’s best for our careers then we have to do it. Don’t we want the best for each other?’
‘It sounds like that’s it then? We’re going to be apart.’ I folded my arms across my chest and tried to stop myself from crying even more.
/> Michael shook his head. ‘I don’t know, Elina. Look, I’m gonna get home. When you’ve calmed down, let me know, and we’ll talk about all of this like adults.’
I didn’t sleep very well that night, and I woke early on Saturday morning. The sun had barely risen, and my room was still blanketed in darkness. I fumbled beneath my pillow for my phone, my stomach lurching with nerves as I looked at the screen. My eyes winced at its brightness, and when they finally adjusted to see it properly, my heart sank.
No messages.
Still nothing from Michael.
We hadn’t spoken since our argument. He hadn’t even sent me a message before going to bed like he usually did. Was this what it would be like at uni? Would I wake up every hour and check for a message, worrying that he’d forgotten about me?
I huffed and rolled over, curling into a ball, wrapping my arms around my stomach as if to fill the void there.
Michael and I rarely argued, and I hated it when we did. I didn’t want to argue with him. I loved him more than anything. I knew I’d been in the wrong last night. I shouldn’t have snapped at him for wanting to go to a university far from my own choices, but I was just so scared. I’d spent the last seven years seeing Michael almost every day, and the thought of that coming to an end was too much to bear.
But did I really want him to study somewhere near me for
my own selfish reasons? Did I really want to be the one that stopped him doing what he wanted? No, of course not. I loved him too much for that. He loved me too, and I’d been stupid enough to accuse him of forgetting about me or meeting someone else. Had he not shown me enough love? He’d shown me more than I could have dreamed of, and I was stomping all over it by assuming that if we studied apart, it would disappear.
I felt so ashamed; not only had I hurt someone who loved me, but I’d let myself down by letting insecurities suffocate me. I was better than that, I had to be.
I had to say I was sorry.
It was only just after seven, but I couldn’t bear another minute of this.
So, I pushed back the warm quilt, shivering slightly as the cold brushed my skin. I changed quickly into some jeans and a red knitted jumper and dashed downstairs. As I reached the hall, I shoved my feet into a pair of brown boots and grabbed my coat from the hook by the door.
‘Shit,’ I hissed as I opened the front door. It was freezing. The cold bit my nose and pierced through the jumper, stabbing my skin like little pinpricks. I pulled the coat tighter and zipped it right up to my neck before dashing across the road to Michael’s house beneath the orange glow of the streetlights and the sleeping rooftops. It was so still, so quiet. Not a sound to be heard save the pounding of my own feet on the tarmac.
The windows were dark, the house still dreaming, that usual weekday-morning yellow glow absent on this cold and dark Saturday morning. Nobody liked rising before light on a weekend; even my dad stayed in bed until at least eight in winter.
I balled my fist and brought it to the door. But before I knocked, I thought better of it, and pulled my phone out of my coat pocket, finding Michael’s number in my favourites. It had a heart next to it and six ‘x’s. I pressed the ‘call’ button and held it to my ear. I didn’t want to wake up his parents too by banging on the door.
He didn’t answer, so I tried again. ‘Come on, pick up,’ I muttered under my breath, stomping my feet up and down in an attempt to keep warm. My teeth were chattering, and my breath was visible on the cold dawn air.
I called and called, and each time the phone rang I grew more and more fearful that he wouldn’t answer. Logic told me that his phone was on silent, and he was still asleep, but a small part of me wondered if he didn’t want to speak to me just yet.
Shaking my head, I pocketed my phone and made my way back down the path, feeling a bit stupid.
It had been silly coming over here knowing he’d still be
asleep. I should have just waited a little longer.
But then, the door creaked open behind me. ‘Elina?’ said a sleepy voice.
I slowly turned around. Michael stood there in a dark blue hoodie and a pair of grey jogging bottoms. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were scrunched up with sleep. His arms folded as he shivered against the bitter chill.
‘What are you doing here so early?’ His tone wasn’t angry like I thought it’d be.
‘I came to say I was sorry,’ I said, taking small steps back up the path.
He didn’t say anything, only waited for me to continue.
‘I shouldn’t have said what I did, and I shouldn’t have shouted,’ I said, wrapping my arms around myself. ‘I got scared, and that fear made me stupid and insecure, but I don’t want to be that person. I should never have accused you of forgetting about me. I know you love me, and I’m sorry I underestimated that.’
‘It hurt when you said that, you know? It made me think that you thought so little of us; that we’re not strong enough to overcome a bit of distance,’ replied Michael, and I could tell from his voice that my words and actions had upset him.
I shook my head. ‘I know, and I’m really sorry, Michael. I want us to be happy, and I know we can be. But, we have
to decide for ourselves too, as you said. If that means only seeing each other a couple of times a month then so be it. We’ll make it work. It’s only three years out of forever together, right?’ I finished with a small smile.
Michael eventually smiled too. ‘Right.’
‘Good. I’m sorry. Again,’ I said, wanting desperately to rush into his arms. I decided to wait for him to invite me first.
‘Come here, you,’ he said, reaching for me. I threw myself into his arms, resting my cheek on his shoulder. ‘It’s okay. Don’t worry; I know you were upset. Do you want to come inside and up to bed? I’ll make us a cup of tea and we’ll watch the sun come up.’
I smiled, nodding into his shoulder. ‘Yes please.’
Chapter Ten
20th July 2019
Time without Michael: 1 Year, 7 Months, 3 Days
I was on my way to meet Kit and Roanna for an afternoon of holiday shopping when a familiar face appeared on the other side of my door.
‘Max!’ I exclaimed excitedly. His hand was poised as though he’d been about to knock.
‘Lina!’ he grinned. But it was too wide, almost forced. He looked a bit awkward and on edge, like he didn’t know whether to hug me or not, so I decided for him and threw my arms around his neck, whacking his back with my handbag in the process.
‘What are you doing here? It’s been ages!’ I said, without breaking the hug; I hadn’t seen him for so long, and I wanted to make damn sure I wasn’t imagining things.
‘I’ll tell you as soon as I can talk again,’ he croaked out, and his amused tone told me he’d relaxed a bit.
I laughed and released him from my tight grip, taking a step back to take him in. He looked different. He looked older. Lines had started to form around his eyes, but only ever so faintly, only noticeable because I hadn’t seen him in so long. His hair was gone too. Those long, bouncy corkscrew curls had vanished, and his hair was shaved close to his head. The stubble on his cheeks and chin was longer than that on his head. But Thailand had obviously treated him well; his smooth skin had been darkened by the sun, and his body was buffer than it had been the last time I’d seen him.
‘I can’t believe you’re here! Why aren’t you in Thailand?’ I asked as he caught his breath back.
He held up his left hand. His wedding ring was gone. ‘Poppy and I divorced. I wanted to come home, and she didn’t, so here I am.’
‘Oh, Max, I’m sorry,’ I said sympathetically.
Max shook his head. ‘Don’t be, Lina. I should be sorry. In fact, I was wondering if you wanted to get some lunch with me? I’d love to catch up.’
I grimaced. ‘I’d love to, but I’m meeting the girls at the Trafford Centre for lunch and shopping. I have so much to tell you, though! Do you want to go out for tea tonight?’
Max brightened up. ‘Yes, absolutely. Shall I pick you up at about seven?’
‘Sounds great!’ I beamed.
I was ready at half-past six.
I’d put on a lilac maxi dress and had styled my icy blonde hair into a loose bun so I could show off my new earrings.
I was so excited to see Max.
I hadn’t seen him by himself, without Poppy, since the day of Michael’s funeral. I couldn’t wait to reminisce about old times and hear all about his life in Thailand. It really had been far too long.
Max arrived at around ten to seven, and we walked into the city centre in the warm glow of the evening sun. It had been another hot day, and I was a bit angry at myself for spending the majority of it inside a shopping centre, but at least I’d bought clothes and supplies for our upcoming trip. I was, however, very keen to find a restaurant with an outdoor terrace.
We eventually found a sushi restaurant not far from the Northern Quarter and managed to secure one of the six outdoor tables situated in a garden at the back of the establishment. It had been designed like a Zen garden, and if not for the hum of the city centre, it would have been easy to imagine we were somewhere else.
We ordered as soon as we arrived. I chose Prawn Katsu Curry and Max ordered a set of three sushi meals.
‘So, where shall we start?’ I said excitedly, as I took a sip of my white wine once the waiter had left our table.
Max smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘Actually, Lina, I’d like to apologise before we do anything else.’
I frowned, lowering my glass. ‘What are you sorry for?’
Max paused and let out a long, frustrated sigh. ‘I should
have been there for you.’
‘Max, you were. You were brilliant,’ I assured him.
He shook his head. ‘Yeah, for about five minutes, and then I pissed off to Thailand with a girl who barely let me speak to you.’
‘Look, Max,’ I said, reaching across the table to take his hands in mine. ‘We were both grieving. We did what we had to. You were there. You gave me the idea to get Indie, and do you have any idea how good she has been for me? Plus, I had my girls. It was a horrible time. Heck, it is still a horrible time. But you couldn’t put your life on hold just for me. I would never have let you. Michael wouldn’t.’
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