Authors: Jade West
But I couldn’t convince myself this time.
She’d been right there, the one for us. I’d seen it in her smile. I’d heard it in her laugh. The way she’d fit so easily between us, so snug, so
there
. The way my heart raced when she called my name. The way her fingers felt for mine when no one was looking. The way I was so proud of her. So fucking proud.
Those moments I was deep inside her and wanted to stay there, with Rick, both of us together. Fill her up with my baby,
our
baby, and watch her grow big and beautiful, swollen and glowing with the new life inside her belly.
The way I looked into her eyes and saw a future. A future for all three of us, and the baby we could make together.
And I’d blown it. No matter what she said now, I’d truly blown it.
She’d be running scared, and who could blame her? What kind of desperate weirdo throws a few hundred grand at a young woman half his age and practically begs her to have his baby?
That’s how she’d see it, no matter what I said.
Desperate.
That’s how she’d see
me. Because I was. I was desperate.
And it hurt so much more for loving her. For wanting
her
baby, not just
a
baby. Katie wasn’t just a womb, wasn’t just a pretty face and a smile. She wasn’t like the others. She wasn’t just
a
Never
mind
,
Carl
,
we’ll try again, Carl.
Just don’t fuck it up next time, Carl. There’s someone out there for us, Carl. We just have to find her, Carl. Keep your cool, Carl. Trust me, Carl, she’s out there. She’s fucking out there.
Keep my fucking cool?
We’d found her. And
I’d
lost her.
I’d fucking lost her.
I gripped the steering wheel tight, and kept my attention on the road. I felt sick as I drew closer to Cheltenham, the prospect of telling Rick rolling around my gut. The sky turned grey and heavy, the road dull as it stretched ahead. And I stank, of horse and hay and the bitter stench of failure.
I took a breath as I parked up on our driveway, fumbling in my briefcase to delay the moment I’d have to step inside. I took another long breath as I turned the key in the front door, bracing myself for the inevitable.
Rick was already waiting. He was still suited and booted from his client meeting, his hair slick and trendy and his smile bright. A bright purple tie over a pale pink shirt. Matching purple brogues. He had a bottle of champagne in one hand and a balloon on a string in the other. The string was bright pink, the balloon a huge daisy.
Well done
it said on one side.
Good job
on the other. It twisted and bobbed against the ceiling, taunting me with the irony.
Rick glanced behind me, eyes sparkling, waiting. His smile dropped as I kicked the door shut.
“Where’s our pretty lady?” he said. “I thought we were celebrating?”
I dropped my keys on the side. “She, um.” I couldn’t look at him. “She had bad news, about the yard.”
He took a step forward, I could feel his eyes burning. “Shit! What bad news? Is she ok?”
“Yard is up for sale, bank repossession, or close to.” I slipped off my jacket, hung it over the bottom of the stairs, fiddled with my cufflinks.
“So she can’t rent it from Jack anymore? Bummer. That fucking stinks, man.” He shook his head. “Talk about a shit end to the day. I bet she’s fucking gutted.”
The thought hit my belly, and it hit hard. “She was upset.”
Rick paced a bit, dropped the champagne next to my keys. His hand was on his forehead, rubbing. “She should have come home with you, we could’ve talked about it, worked something out. There must be something we can do.” He stared at me. “Maybe we could talk to the bank? With Jack, I mean. Find out what’s owing. Back Katie up with the rent money, let the bank know he has the cash coming in to clear some debt. That could work, right? It’s worth a shot.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “Is she still with Jack? I’ll call her, tell her to come home.”
He’d pressed the call button before he registered the truth. His phone to his ear before his eyes met mine and stayed there.
“Except she’s not there, is she? You’d never just leave her there…” He cancelled the call, walked past me, opened the door. “Her car’s still here. Why would she stay at the yard without a car, Carl? What’s going on?”
I braced myself. “She needed space…”
And he knew. He fucking knew.
“What did you do?”
“She was upset. I tried to help.”
He let go of the balloon, I heard it bop against the ceiling. “
Help
?”
I walked through to the kitchen and uncorked a bottle of red. He followed me, hands open wide, demanding.
I poured a glass, downed it in one. “I offered to buy the yard.”
“You what?!”
“I offered to buy the yard, for her.”
“How much?”
“Couple of big ones.”
He shook his head. “Big ones? What the fuck does that even mean?”
I took a breath. “Couple of hundred grand.”
His eyes were wide. “You offered to spend a couple of hundred grand on a riding yard? Just like that? Fucking hell, Carl. And what did she say to that?”
I shrugged. “She said no, said it was too much. Said it was
crazy. She didn’t understand why I’d offer, wanted to know why.”
“No fucking shit. And what did
you
say?”
I didn’t answer.
“Please tell me you didn’t. Not like that. Not when her dreams have gone to shit and there’s an offer of a crazy fucking bankroll swaying over her head. Please tell me you didn’t fucking do that, Carl.”
I had no words. I refilled my glass.
His face turned pale, a hand over his mouth, pacing back and forth. “You told her, didn’t you? Fucking hell, Carl, you fucking told her.”
“She wanted to know why. She wanted to know what I wanted. She wanted to
know
, Rick.”
“And so you just told her. Great. That’s fucking great.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, and I was. “I should have waited. I should have given it more time.”
He slammed his palm on the island. “Too fucking right you should have waited, Carl! Too
fucking right!” He let out a sigh that sounded more like a wail. “We had it
good
, Carl. She was
good
. She was amazing. She was everything we fucking wanted, everything
I
fucking wanted.” He clenched his fists against the marble. “I fucking
love
her, Carl.”
There were tears in his eyes and an ache in my stomach, a horrible pitiful pang of regret. “So do I.”
He shook his head, eyes closed. “Tell me everything. Every fucking thing you said.”
And so I did. I told him everything.
Rick listened and shook his head all the way through my sorry recap. His face said it all, reinforced what I already knew. I’d fucking blown it.
“She said it’s not goodbye,” I said. “She said it was a
see you later,
not a goodbye.”
“She’s going to say that, isn’t she?” He grabbed himself a beer from the fridge
, chugged it back. He pulled his tobacco from his pocket, rolled a cigarette. “I can’t believe you did it. After
everything we said.”
“You can believe it,” I said. “Of course you can. She asked, I answered.”
He held up a hand, waved me to shut the fuck
up. “I need a fucking smoke,” he said, and left me. He let himself out through the back door, and the security light came on, illuminated him as he paced up and down the path. He smoked one and lit up another, and I watched, sipping wine in misery while he fumed.
He was outside for an age, pacing and smoking.
I’d moved to the living room by the time he came back in, my stomach paining worse than ever as reality set in.
He propped himself in the doorway, his face stripped of its easy charm. I sat forward in my seat, forced out the words I’d been churning around my mind.
“Her issues are with me, Rick, not you. It was all about what
I
wanted.”
He shrugged. “So? What does that matter now?”
I met his eyes, holding the gaze even through the anger in his. “My point is you could… be with her. You two could still… without me…
I’m
the problem, Rick, I know I’m the problem. She knows it, too.”
His lips were tight, eyes hollow and wide. “What the fuck are you trying to say?”
“I’m trying to say I’m sorry, that I don’t want to ruin this for you, for either
of you.” It hurt so fucking bad to say it. “I’m saying you could be with her. You and her.” I clasped my hands in my lap. “I’d understand, Rick. You shouldn’t have to pay the price for my mistakes.”
I didn’t want to look at him, turned my head away as he stepped towards me.
“Hey,” he said, dropping to my side on the sofa. “What the hell is this?”
“I fucked up,” I admitted, and my words came out choked.
“Probably,” he said. “But we’re together, you and me. We come together or not at all. That’s never gonna change, Carl, no matter what.” He pressed his hand to my cheek, turned my face to his. “Look at me.”
I looked at him, and I felt defeated. Empty. Guilty.
“I’m pissed off, and fucking gutted, and think you’re a dick for running your blunt fucking mouth off, but you’re still the best fucking man I’ve ever known. You’re still the one I want to be with. Christ, Carl, I still fucking love you.”
I leaned forward, pressed my forehead to his, and his hands clasped my face, held me there. I closed my eyes, and breathed, just breathed. “It hurts,” I said. “This one hurts so bad. I thought this one…”
“I know,” he said. “I’m right fucking there with you.” He sighed, long and deep. “Come here.” He folded me in strong arms, pulled me close. He kissed my cheek, held me tight, and I held him back. I felt weak, exposed. Open. The dull ache in the pit of me making me nauseous. “You’re so fucking strong,” he said. “Like a bull. Always so fucking unstoppable.” He kissed my mouth, his lips firm. “You’ve got to stop sometimes, you’ve got to learn to ease up on the fucking reins.”
I didn’t have any words left. I just nodded, just enough for him to see.
“We make decisions together, we’re supposed to be a team.”
“I’m sorry,” I said again.
I squeezed him tight, my arms around his muscular shoulders, and he was rigid and strong, and there. Rick was right there with me.
Rick was always there.
And I loved him so much I thought my heart would burst.
Samson picked up pace as we headed up through Haugh Wood, his hooves churning up the track as he broke into a canter. We were early, the sun still climbing through the trees to the east. I squeezed Samson on, driving him faster, and he put his head down, ears forward and alert, breath steady. I gave him free rein and he extended himself, a snort and he was away, galloping up the main incline.
I loved it here so much. So did he.
We belonged here. I’d always known we belonged here.
Only we didn’t.
Not anymore. Not now.