The responsibility for our non-discussion on marriage is all mine. I knew I was going to ask her to marry me that day, but my timing was off. I should have waited. If I had waited, she would have given me a response and even if her response had been a flat out no that would have been better. It would have given me the opportunity to refuse it and then set about convincing her to say yes because one way or another she is going to say yes. She is going to believe in marriage, with me, only ever with me.
I think back to my proposal to Arianna and how she agreed immediately, not that she wasn’t expecting it, we’d been edging that way, but she said yes and once I slipped her engagement ring on her finger it never came off until I put a wedding ring on that same finger and then finally when we agreed to separate.
Arianna in my head as my fiancée, bride or wife seems totally alien to me but more than that it makes me feel guilty. Guilty that I married a woman I didn’t feel about like I feel about Olivia. Guilty that I hurt Arianna and didn’t give her in a husband what she should have expected, what she deserved. But most of all I feel guilty that I didn’t wait for my girl to come into my life, to have made her my first and only wife.
It’s two in the morning and as I lie in bed I am as far from sleep as I could possibly be. I know that the only thing that will help me sleep is my girl and right now it is seven in the morning for her meaning I am already hitting her contact details on my phone without any further thought. There is only a brief moment where I consider the fact that she might be sleeping still and that my selfish needs are going to wake her, but I couldn’t not call her now if my life depended on it because I am going to do the one thing I promised I wouldn’t do, I am going to address my proposal.
The phone rings long enough that I am expecting it to go to voicemail when my girl answers with a groggy voice that tells me that she was indeed still sleeping.
“Hey baby, sorry for waking you.” And I am sorry, but not sorry enough that I regret my decision.
“That’s okay.” Concern seeps into her voice, “Are you okay? Please tell me you’re still coming home soon.”
I love that she is panic-stricken at the idea of me being delayed, but I quickly put her out of her misery.
“Yes, no delays. I will be flying back tomorrow, today for me,” I explain. “I just wanted to talk, to hear your voice,” I admit and mentally give my inner voice the bird at its mocking stare at just how pathetic I am without my girl.
“You say the sweetest things.” I can hear and see her smile, although I am unsure if all of the things I say to her will be classified as sweet. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, baby. So much that you’re all I can think about, even when I should be thinking about business,” I tell her honestly.
“Sorry,” she whispers and at that moment I wish she was close enough to pull her close, to hold her and kiss her.
I don’t know anyone else who would apologise for being on my mind, for being loved by me to the extent that she is, but then I don’t know anyone quite like my girl. She is unique, one of a kind and she’s mine.
“Don’t ever apologise for me thinking about you, Livy.” I need to break the tension that is building between us, the charge that is likely to explode and she really isn’t close enough for me to deal with that. “My mum loves the sunroom. You might need to do our bedroom next or it won’t ever get done because she is going to have you very busy.”
“There wasn’t that much to do really.” Her sense of modesty is totally sincere. “I really just changed colours, threw together some soft furnishings and accessories. A lot of what had been done has remained.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Olivia. That room is down to you and your ideas and if you don’t think so, ask my mum. I think she feels she has replaced Ronaldo and you know how she felt about him.”
“I don’t know about that but I’m glad she’s happy with it.”
“You should think about how you want to move forward, business wise,” I suggest, already knowing that my shares in Peterson Michaels no longer hold any attraction for me, but I’m unsure exactly what to do with them.
“I was thinking that I might stand out a little better now that I have a couple of commissions and something real and recent to go into my portfolio. I might start looking for some junior positions or even do some cold calling. I could probably do an internship for a few months.”
I can’t believe that she is still thinking she is only good enough to be junior, that she is considering working for someone else when she should be working for herself. This conversation has become unsafe too. As much as I don’t want to end up any more desperate to have my girl next to me, under me, over me, anywhere with me, I also don’t want to start an argument, not about this when I know the next topic of conversation is likely to be inflammatory if not incendiary.
“You could do that, but don’t rule anything else out. Think about long term too.” I sound oh so reasonable when I already know I will not allow Olivia to settle for a junior post that will see her making tea and collating information like she did for Sean. My girl is a lead designer, and everyone can see it, except her, and Christian.
“Okay,” she agrees, but I sense she’s only trying to pacify me, so while she’s so amenable I am going in with my proposal.
“Olivia,” I begin gently, having already decided that we won’t be arguing. I am simply going to lay my cards on the table and leave them there. “You know when I proposed to you, I meant it.”
She stammers and makes an attempt to interrupt but if she does it will escalate into a row, so I simply continue to speak.
“I hoped you’d say yes or at least speak about it and I know you’ve said you don’t believe in marriage, but I do, and I think if you hadn’t had all the married people closest to you fuck you over you’d feel differently. I love you, more than I thought was even possible and I want to spend forever with you, making you understand just how much you mean to me and I will make you believe in marriage, baby, even if it’s only our marriage.”
She’s silent, but I can hear her breathing, so I am reassured that she is still there.
“I won’t simply be your boyfriend forever. I won’t have my children have a different name to me and I won’t have their mother have one either. So, I need you to think about it, to know I meant it, although my timing might have been better. I would marry you tomorrow if I could, but I understand you need some time, so I will wait. I don’t expect an answer now. I don’t even expect a discussion, but later when I come home, we’ll talk then, okay?”
Again silence.
Then, finally, she begins to speak…
Chapter 58
