We come down here pretty much every weekend that Anders is not at a race. I’ve been to the occasional race with him—Dad too—but usually I chill at home in Indy or come here for some family time. Dad and Sheryl still refer to the guest room as my room. They have another, smaller one they use if old friends come to stay.
I love that I still have a place with them, that I still feel so welcome. I’ll be staying there later, once we’ve finished with these two fields.
Anyway, this morning, after waking up to such a lovely day, we went to the farmhouse to have breakfast with Jonas and Tyler, and as soon as Jonas mentioned that he wanted to get started on the harvest today, Anders looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
“We’ll help,” I offered quickly.
Jonas, Tyler, and even little Astrid looked at me as though I’d gone mad, but I’m probably imagining Astrid’s expression because she’s only eight months old.
So cute, though. Like cutest-baby-you’ve-ever-seen cute.
I’d worried Anders and I might be rushing into things when we moved in together after I left the UK, but at around the same time, Jonas was getting Tyler pregnant.
Anders later told me that his brother called her the morning after movie night and asked her to go on a date with him. She agreed and they’ve never looked back.
Both AndersandBailey used to fill me in on how speedily things were developing between them—Bailey would hear it from Tyler as well as from Jonas, and she was as delighted as I was to hear that they had fallen hook, line, and sinker for each other.
If the pregnancy was an accident, it was a happy one. Jonas proposed and Bailey organized her second shotgun wedding.
She appreciated that Anders and I gave her a bit more time to pull things together.
When I camehome that night from Sabrina and Lance’s wedding to find Anders waiting on my doorstep, I could hardly believe my eyes. I had been wrestling with so many emotions during the walk, but I had just determined to unblock his number from my phone and give him a call.
I knew he would have tried to contact me, knew he’d be worried, and I wanted to put his mind at ease. I wanted to tell him that I understood, that it was all too much too soon, and if he’d asked for my forgiveness, I would have granted it. God knows, he didn’t need another block of guilt to weigh him down.
But I wanted to ask for his forgiveness too. I shouldn’t have pushed him so hard, and I shouldn’t have abandoned him.
I thought that maybe I could still be someone he’d allow himself to depend on, someone to take the weight off if he needed to talk. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I wanted to do it. My last thought as I approached my house was that maybe Ididhave it in me to wait for him.
So when I found him on my doorstep...
I didn’t know what was happening, why he was there, whether he’d come for me or was visiting for work. But when hegathered me close and whispered that he loved me, when he asked me to please forgive him, when he swore he would endeavor never to hurt me again as long as he lived, I sensed something seismic had happened.
We went inside and he told me all about Kelly and Brian, how they’d bought his plane ticket and sent him to me with their blessing. And the relief was so immense; the lightness I felt at seeing the expression of peace on his face was like no rush I’d ever known.
We talked and cuddled into the early hours of Sunday morning, then I took him to my favorite café, No. 5 Angel Hill, for breakfast. We sat in my usual place by the window, on a tan leather bench seat that once belonged in a vintage car, and as he looked with wonder at the towering, ornate Abbey Gate across the road, I looked athimand felt pure, unbridled joy.
For the first time in more than six months, I was able to wander around Bury St. Edmunds without any pain. We explored the ruins in the Abbey Gardens and ended up at the tiny Nutshell pub that I told him and Wilson about all that time ago at the duckpin bowling alley. Anders was tickled by the pub’s small size and all the quirky curiosities contained within, and he confessed over a pint of beer that he’d love to spend some time in the UK. I sensed he was trying to tell me then, that early, that we could make it work no matter what, that if I wanted to stay in England or move to America, or if I changed my mind at any point, then we had options.
I do think we will go back to the UK one day. Anders could take a job in Formula 1, although it wouldn’t be with Ferrari, the team that once headhunted him. That team is based in Italy, but then, what’s to say we couldn’t go and spend some time there too? I’ve been doing freelance sketch perspectives on topof my full-time employment, so I could probably work from anywhere.
I feel so optimistic about the future—and even more importantly to me, so does Anders.
But back when we were deciding where to live, I asked if he still liked Indy and enjoyed working with his current team—he did—and if he would be happy for me to take the job with Dean—he was.
So that’s what we decided to do.
We knew it would be close to Christmas by the time I’d finished the work on the primary school and handed in my notice to Graham, not to mention packed up and vacated the house, so we decided to delay our move until the New Year so we could also spend some time with Mum and her boyfriend, Keith.
Anders flew back over—he had also come for Thanksgiving at the end of November, when his whole team had time off—and it was perfect, watching him bond with Mum and then the two of us getting to experience a British Christmas together before we left to put roots down in another country.
Walking into Anders’s apartment in Indy with him was one of the happiest moments of my life. It has been so much fun getting to know the city and all his favorite haunts, becoming friends with his friends, and making some of my own. And I adore what I do now. Yes, there are still downsides, as there are with any job, but I feel so much more inspired going into work each day, and Dean is the coolest boss. More of a friend, really. I was walking on air when he made my position permanent.
Scott was sad to hear that I was moving away. We’ve stayed in touch, albeit sporadically. He and Nadine sent us a wedding card, wishing us all the best. I doubt they’ll be far behindus. They’re still going strong, still living in Bury St. Edmunds. They’re friends with Sabrina and Lance now and it doesn’t hurt, not like I’d initially imagined it would. I’m glad they’re happy.
I do miss Bury and its crooked old buildings, fairy-tale ruins, and quaint little pubs and cafés, but we’re going back at Thanksgiving, when I’ll be taking Anders to the Christmas market, and I know we’ll never stay away for too long. Mum’s been to see us a couple of times too, and she and Keith are here right now, of course.
We stay outin the field until dusk, when the fireflies come out, and then we go for a motorbike ride back to the place where we first met, lying on the grass and watching as the sun sinks toward the horizon and the green lights bobbing over the fields grow brighter.
