Love & London by Ellie White

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"I was surprised to hear from you so soon after our last session, Maggie. It's only been seven weeks."

"I know I'm not usually forthcoming with you. I know I'm usually hard work and I am terribly sorry for that. Something has changed and I don't want to ruin it more than I already have." I pause as I notice my fingers tapping and they don't stop, no matter how hard I try.

Carol has been my therapist since the accident. At first, she would visit me in the hospital once a week while I was completing my rehabilitation. She would say it's recommended because recovery can be slow and this can affect people mentally but I don't think it was that. I think she came because I refused to speak to anyone but James for an entire week and they thought I was having a psychotic episode or something. I wasn't, I just didn't have anything to say to anyone else.

James told me what the grown-ups were saying. He'd listen in on their conversations for me because we both knew they wouldn't be honest with us. They still thought of us as kids even though we were in our twenties. Now, I know they were only trying to protect us but, when they started talking about sectioning me, I decided then was my time to speak again, as much as I didn't want to.

Eventually, I opened up, little by little. I researched trauma and grief online a lot. I knew exactly what to say to the questions she asked, I said exactly what they wanted to hear. My sessions dropped to once a month at home and then, eventually, a phone call once a year on the anniversary of Philip's death.

I don't know if anyone realised what I was doing. I didn't care as long as they thought I was doing okay.

I wasn't. I was good at hiding everything and I eventually convinced myself that the way I was living was normal.

It wasn't.

I've never been here before, in Carol's office. It reminds me of a day spa, all grey and white with fluffy cushions and plush carpets. Sounds of soothing wind instruments and breaking waves and calming, lavender diffusers are pumped into every room. It's a very welcoming experience. It feels like you're in a giant hug as soon as you walk through the door and even the reception area has the most comfortable chair you've ever sat on. I had to laugh at the cheesy positive affirmations covering the hallways. I suppose, to the less cynical, it might be a nice reminder that your life will not always be so shit.

Every time I engage in a conversation with Carol, I have a plan of what I will say with bullet points and lists to keep me on track. I always set a new goal, small enough that I can achieve it, big enough that it keeps her off my back for another year. This last year, it was to stop wearing my wedding rings. The year before, it was to go to the pub with my friends once a week.

Today is different. I called the meeting without really knowing why. Did I expect to find answers here? Am I looking for validation of the choice I know I have already made deep down?

Carol watches me through narrowed eyes as she pours me a chamomile tea, psychoanalysing me.

I feel terrible about how I've behaved to her over the years. I can't imagine I'm her favourite patient or anywhere close to that, really. I feel terrible about the money Mum and Dad have wasted on our yearly conversation that I give my bare minimum to. Maybe, if I'd at least tried to talk to her and deal with my issues, I wouldn't be in this mess now.

"Is that new?" she asks me, referring to my tapping.

"No," I move my hands to my lap, clutching them together tightly and desperately willing them to stop. "It's been a while since the last time it happened and, even then, it was infrequent. It's become a problem again this week. I try to pass it off as if I'm tapping out a beat or a song to try and hide it. I do it when I'm anxious. Right before a big meeting, before a party with lots of people or a time where I'm not fully prepared for something."

"And this is a time where you are unprepared?"

"Yes."

"Well, I am eager to see what you have to say when you are unscripted. Are you aware when you do it?"

"For the most part, yes."

"And you can stop it?"

"For the most part, yes."

"Tell me, what's changed since we last spoke?"

I know what she's doing. She's using the TED method we use when we're conducting market research. Tell me, explain to me, describe to me. It's a fantastic way to start a discussion, to get people to open up and give more than a yes or no answer like I have been known to do.

It's effective, too. Even though I know what she's doing, I want to open up to her, to spill every minor thought I've ever had. So I do just that.

"I took over my dad’s company with Jake... he's my... let’s just say it's complicated." I don't even know where to begin with Jake.

"Explain as best you can."

"We have a complex relationship. We were best friends growing up. He fell in love with me fourteen years ago and kept it a secret. I found out at the weekend."

"You say you were friends? Does that mean you're not anymore?"

"Not exactly. It's complicated."

"So you say. I'll try my best to keep up."

I think for a moment and start at the beginning.

"He went away for uni and he stopped being friends with me. It hurt, a lot. For years, I thought he didn't care enough about me to stay friends with me. I kept trying to get him to talk to me and I was persistent, no matter how much it hurt. That was until the accident, anyway. Before that night, I had tried so hard to get him to speak to me but he was always so cold and dismissive so I eventually gave up when I felt I had bigger problems than Jake Mills to deal with.

“My husband had died. I told myself I could care less about the boy that abandoned sixteen years of friendship in less than a millisecond. Over time, he warmed up again but, for me, it was too little too late so I did to him what he did to me: I shut him out. That was when I was twenty-two. I tolerated him no more than I had to at work.

“Then, seven weeks ago, we started working closer together. We had to share an office and we became friends again, best friends. It was like no time had passed, like we had always been this way."

"And you say he came clean about his feelings at the weekend. You've told me how you felt about Jake in the past but how do you feel about him now?"

"I'm in love with him. It's hard to say when I fell in love with him. Everything happened so fast, it was so intense. I just didn't think he could feel the same for me so I tried to lock it up in a box but, in the end, it wouldn't stick," I say as tears cascade down my cheeks. "We kissed and he said that, if it were going to go further, we would have to do it right. For the sake of our company, we had to be certain it was what we wanted. And, if I weren’t sure, he'd wait for me until I knew either way. I was sure, I knew it was what I wanted."

I pause for a second to regain my composure.

"It was the first time I'd slept with anyone since Philip and I freaked out. It wasn't even because I had sex with Jake. It was because I knew I was falling in love with him and I thought that meant I wouldn't love Philip anymore. I was wrong."

"Do you regret what you did with Jake?"

"No! Of course not. I want nothing more than for us to be a normal couple."

"Explain to me... Why do you think you can't be a normal couple?"

I can't think of a valid reason that we shouldn't be together. Carol senses that I have nothing more to add so changes the subject.

"You said that your physical tics had come back this week. When did they become more manageable?"

"After I took my wedding rings off. It only happened a couple of times at the beginning, really, and I was able to stop them right away."

"Anything else notable happen around then?"

She smiles as the realisation hits me.

"Jake came back into my life."

She nods with a smile. "And what other differences in the rest of your behaviour or attitude have you noticed in the last seven weeks?"

"There have been many differences," I say, thinking of everything that's happened. "I'm not seeking approval or validation from everyone I meet. I'm not stressed at work anymore. I stopped working weekends and I spend time with Jake outside of work or with my other friends and my family, too. I leave the house and go places which is something I rarely did before other than to go to work or the supermarket, of course.

“For the first time in a long time, we had a girl’s night to the West End which was something I would do once a month before the accident but wouldn't entertain the thought after. I went to a gig in a secret, basement nightclub and danced like I had no cares in the world. I played crazy golf with a bunch of people from work I barely knew and, instead of hiding in the corner to observe, I got involved. On Valentine’s Day, I got drunk and fell off a stage while singing karaoke with Jake.

“I realised how much I have missed so, instead of just showing my face at the pub on a Friday night to please my friends, I'm there until closing with the rest of them."

"Let's journey back to why you closed yourself off in the first place. Tell me, why do you think you did that?"

"I was worried that I would have to pretend to be happy all the time. That I couldn't be sad that my husband had died. That I should be grateful I'm alive because everyone else told me I was so, so lucky. I know I'm lucky but that doesn't mean I can't be sad."

"And, when you spend time with Jake, how do you feel? Do you have to pretend to be happy?"

"Not at all. When I'm with Jake, I can talk about anything because there's no judgement. I can have a complete emotional breakdown in front of him and, instead of him telling me to talk to you about it like everyone else does, he listens and he talks with me. A lot of memories of growing up with Philip include Jake. He has memories of his own and we talk about that, too."

"So, tell me again. You say you love him, that you can talk to him and he's obviously helped you heal. What's stopping you from being together?"

"Absolutely nothing. I keep telling myself that I'm betraying Philip, that I made a vow, but Philip wrote me a letter. He told me to move on, to learn to love again. He told me that I might not realise it but the man I'm meant to be with is right in front of me. He knew that Jake loved me. That letter was him giving me his blessing. I think I'm just... I'm scared."

Carol smiles at me. "It's normal to be scared, Maggie. Grief is a powerful emotion. It can tear down even the strongest of people. The important thing is to acknowledge that feeling and to learn how to live with it. Losing a husband at such an early age will always leave a scar and this will be a battle you will face for the rest of your life. It's up to you who you choose to fight that battle alongside."

I check my watch. It's 7 PM, Friday evening.

"I have to go," I say, standing abruptly. "Thank you, Carol. For everything."

"Let me know how it pans out for you," she says with an encouraging smile.

***

I race down the street to The George as quick as I can on my crutches (which isn't fast, at all). My heart is racing by the time I arrive, a mixture of adrenalin and nerves coursing through my veins.

It's not until I push through the doors and spot Jake across the crowded pub, sitting at our table and looking miserable, that I start to doubt myself. I have no idea what I'm going to say to him.

He stares into his almost empty pint glass, not listening to anything James is saying when my brother talks at him. I hate that I did that, that I put that look on his face.

What if I hurt him too much? Have I blown my chance with him? I slow my walk and weave through the crowd. No one has spotted me yet and they can't hear the clicking of my crutches over the sound of chatter.

When I get close enough, still out of their sight, I can make out their voices.

"I don't know how much more of this I can take, mate," I hear Jake say to my brother, his voice almost at breaking point.

"She just needs space. She'll come around, eventually."

"What if she doesn't? Can you call her or something? Ask how she is? Make sure she's okay. No-one has heard from her all day." My heart aches as he worries about me.

"Maybe you can talk to her yourself, after all,” James nods towards me as I step into view.

"Maggie!" Jake says as his head whips around to face me. He looks as though he's too afraid to move, like I'm some baby deer he doesn't want to startle.

I've never seen him look like this before, so helpless. Torn between giving me a good telling off and not wanting to hurt me.

"Hi, Jake," I say pathetically.

"‘Hi, Jake’? ‘Hi. Jake’? That's it?" he says, finding his feet and closing the short distance between us.

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me in tighter than ever before. I tuck my head under his chin and revel in his warmth, knowing that, when we pull apart, I'm going to have to talk to him and I'll probably end up crying.

"I'm so angry at you, Maggie," he says loudly. His voice is full of emotion which doesn't help when I'm trying my best to keep my own shit together. "But I'm more relieved to see you."

He pulls back slightly so he can look down at me, clinging on to me as though he's still afraid I'll run away.

He looks like he's about to say something but he's interrupted by Cylvie who has now sat down with Helen and James at the table.

"I thought you were done with this floozy, Jake. What happened to not going back for seconds? That was your rule, right? It was the excuse you gave me, anyway," she slurs drunkenly.

"Excuse me?" I say, looking between her and Jake.

"What? You think you're the only person at this table who's screwed him?" she says with a smirk.

My blood turns to ice at the thought of them together.

"What are you talking about?" I don't look at Jake when I ask, "Is she telling the truth?"

"It was a really long time ago. It was a drunken mistake, I promise you.”

I take a few steps to the side, needing to distance myself. I can’t think straight when he’s touching me.

“It wasn’t-." I can't bring myself to ask him if it was the night we played pool, flirted all night and then he hung all over Cylvie the second she entered the pub.

"No, it was a really long time ago. If I could go back in time and tell myself not to even think about touching her, I would. I was hurting and thought it would make me feel better. It didn’t."

"When was it?" I don't know why I wanted to know more details but I couldn't help myself.

"It was your wedding night," Cylvie says, taking an exaggerated sip of her martini.

I don't think I've hated anyone more than I do her in this moment. It takes all my strength not to slam my fist into her face but that’s not me. I’m not a fighter and I’ll not let her push me anymore that she already has.

James and Helen are still sat in our booth, looking as though they would rather be anywhere else but here right now and the look on Cylvie's face tells me he's telling the truth when he says, "She's just saying this to get in your head, Maggie. Believe me."

I know Jake has a past and I had accepted that but that doesn't mean I need to know about everyone he's been with, especially someone who has apparently inserted herself into our group.

"What are you getting out of this?" he yells at Cylvie, causing all of us except James to jump. "You think you're so much better than Maggie but you don't even come close."

"It's fine," I finally say, lacing my fingers through his, pulling him gently to my side again. I smile right at her. I trail a pattern on the back of his hand to calm him down and it works, he instantly relaxes. Cylvie isn't going to change my mind. I know what I want.

"Cylvie, we don't need your validation. I know how Jake feels about me and I know exactly what he thinks of you. So, yeah, maybe you do have a past with him but I'm not going to let that mess with our future."

He leans down to kiss my temple softly. “I should have told you weeks ago. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

"He'll get bored with you, eventually," Cylvie says. "You're too average. Bland, even. Jake is the kind of man that needs excitement."

I tighten my hold on his hand, urging him not to bite.

"If you weren't such a narcissist, you'd know that that isn't even slightly true." This time, it's James who has stepped in to defend us.

"How dare you call me a narcissist!" She looks to Helen for back up. "Are you going to let him speak to me like that?"

"Cylvie, James is right. You can't talk about my family like that. You shouldn't talk about anyone like that. Just because, once upon a time, you thought you laid a claim over Jake doesn't mean you can attack Maggie. If you got to know her, you would see exactly why he loves her. Why we all love her."

"Ugh, ever since you have been hanging around with these wretched people you have changed. And you've gotten fat," she spits.

I let out an audible gasp. Jake stands with his mouth hanging open and James clenches his jaw, balling his fists at her words. He looks like he's about to lash out at her. Helen beats him to it; her eyes darken and her delicate features harden.

"Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you're pregnant," Helen says, stunning us all into silence. "And I know we've been friends for a long time, Cylvie, but that doesn't give you an excuse to be rude to me. I really don't need your toxic negativity so, if you can't be nice, you should leave."

James pulls Helen closer to him so her back is flush with his front and kisses her shoulder. "I knew you wouldn't keep it a secret for long." He laughs.

"You're pregnant?" I say, still stunned.

"Way to go, mate!" Jake says, hi-fiving James.

Helen nods with a wide smile. "We found out on Tuesday when my hangover from hell wouldn't disappear. Turns out... Morning sickness."

"Oh my god! You're pregnant! I'm so happy for you," I say again, reluctantly letting Jake's hand go so I can hug James and Helen. "Why didn't you tell me yesterday?" I add to my brother.

"Well, you were so miserable, I didn't want to rub salt in your wounds by telling you how happy we were."

I slap his arm playfully. "You're my brother. Doesn't matter how miserable I am, I'd always celebrate with you."

In the commotion, I didn't notice Laura, Harry and Simon arrive at the table, shrugging out of their coats.

"What did we miss? You're all celebrating and Cylvie just left looking like someone had pissed in her cornflakes," Harry says, making us all laugh again.

In the excitement of everything else, it seems we got a little distracted and I can feel Jake watching me. He has no idea what I came here to say.

As James and Helen tell the others about what happened, Jake's hand finds its way back to mine.

He nods to the door and leads me out to the empty beer garden. It's cold and wet but we're alone and that's all I care about right now. He wraps his scarf around me as an extra layer just like he did once before and I breathe in his scent like my life depends on it. I don't even care when he notices me doing it.

"You've got the hang of those crutches, I see," he says, smiling. The metal pole clangs as I lean it against our table. We sit facing each other, straddling the picnic bench, his knees resting on the outside of mine.

"Jake, I-" He cuts me off by bringing his lips gently to meet mine and it feels as natural as breathing.

Tears sting behind my closed eyes as he brings his hand up to cup my face. I've missed everything about him; his smile, his voice, his warmth. I want to savour this moment. I want to remember how I feel for the rest of my life, in his arms, exactly where I am supposed to be. So, I cling onto him, wanting to be as close as possible, terrified he'll vanish when I open my eyes again.

"Sorry, I... I just really needed that," he says, pulling away slightly, leaning his forehead against mine. We both know that, if our kiss deepens, there’s a risk it will distract us from the conversation we need to have.

"I needed it, too," I say as I rub my fingertips along his stubble and into his hair.

We sit in silence for a minute, both of us relaxing more and more every time he strokes my hair or wipes a rogue tear from my cheek.

"I've got so much to say to you but I don't know where to start," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Why don't you start by telling me if I'm going to like this conversation or if I should just kiss you again in the hopes it'll change your mind."

I laugh. "I hope you're going to be happy with what I've got to say and I hope you agree with me but I would still really like you to kiss me again."

He laughs as he tangles his fingers in my hair and softly kisses me again but, this time, it only lasts a second before he turns serious and makes a little more space between us.

"Tell me what happened, from the beginning."

I lower my hands to my lap and fight the urge to tap my fingers. He takes my hands in his like he knows I need the support, just like he did before our meeting.

"You should know, it was never a question of how I felt about you. I know how much I love you and I've known for a while, I just hadn't had the courage to admit it to myself and, if I'm completely honest, I always thought it was unrealistic that you'd feel the same about me.

“When you left on Monday morning, I closed the door and I saw the photo of Philip and me on our wedding day hanging on the wall and I felt so guilty, like I was betraying him. Every tiny bit of grief I'd ever experienced, that I'd locked away in some corner of my mind, came bursting out at once and I didn't know what to do. I wanted to talk to you about it, I wanted you to tell me that it was all okay but I didn't want to hurt you by crying over another man. Then, I thought about Philip, what would he say if he knew what happened between us; whether or not he would be okay with it and would he be happy for us? Happy that we finally found happiness with each other."

"I wish you had spoken to me instead of locking yourself away. I thought I'd lost everything... You're my best friend, my business partner and my… girlfriend?" he says, looking away from me, unsure.

I take a breath to steady my nerves. "I saw my therapist today. I willingly saw her for the first time. She would always say I shouldn't compartmentalise because, eventually, it would all build up and explode. She was right. Today, when I spoke to her, I discovered that there are no more boxes. I'm not clinging on to any ‘what if’s and I'm not holding myself back anymore. It's because of you. When everyone else told me that I should try harder to move on, you were different. You let me grieve him, you let me remember him with no judgement. We've not spoken about it but that day when you showed me your sketches, that was the day I finally started to accept everything. It just took me a while to get to where I am today."

I hand him the letter. "You should read this."

"What is it?"

"On the night before our wedding, Philip and I wrote each other letters to go with our wills. He had the idea when we saw it on TV and we did it, not thinking we'd ever need them. I've had it tucked away in my drawer this whole time. I knew I had to read it if I was going to let go of the past and find a future with you and that's what I want. I want to share my life with you. One day, maybe, get married and have a couple of kids but there was no way I could do it without letting go and, so, I read it. I finally was able to accept what happened."

He slowly takes in the words on the page before folding the paper back up and carefully placing it back in the envelope. "He was talking about you, wasn't he?"

Jake nods. He understands. "I know you still love him and miss him and that's okay because I wouldn't expect anything less. I know you'll still struggle some days because grief isn't always straight forward but I'll be right there with you. Please, don't push me away again."

I think back to what Carol said.

‘It's up to you who you choose to fight that battle alongside’.

"I'm sorry I reacted so terribly. I promise, you'll always be the one I go to when things get too much. That's, if you'll still have me."

He doesn't say anything when he pulls me up onto his lap, holding me close. "I'm all in, Maggie. Are you?"

I nod as tears of happiness pool in my eyes. "I love you, Jake."

"I love you, too." He kisses me again and, this time, we don't hold back. Every emotion we have felt over the past week is poured into this one kiss and I know, in this moment, he has missed me just as much as I've missed him.

"Did you want to go back in or go home?" I ask, a little breathless.

"As much as it's been a really long week without you and I'm quite desperate to get you home, I think we should go and celebrate with James and Helen. But, before we do, let’s stay out here a little longer. I'm not ready to share you just yet."

And that's exactly what we do, we talk and we kiss until more people spill from the pub to the beer garden. Then, we join our friends again to celebrate the news that I'll be getting a niece or nephew this year.

As I stand at the bar with Jake, waiting for our drinks, I look back to our table. I smile fondly as I watch my friends laughing together. Helen and Laura are talking animatedly about something that makes Harry cringe. James and Simon are playing at the pool table where Simon wins for the first time ever and celebrates by running around the table with his shirt pulled over his head.

Jake turns to me and kisses me on the forehead.

We all know that life isn't easy. Sometimes, it's really hard and it seems like there is no way out but I know that, when times get tough again, all I have to do is look at the people around me to remind me of all I have to live for. The people I love, who love me and care about me enough to stand by my side through absolutely everything.