I supposed I had been thinking of it, lately. How perhaps it was time. How the fact that I still hadn’t done it was actually something that was detrimental to us all. Every single one of us who had known her. Touched her. And we still hadn’t let her go.
“Do you think…” I spoke into the room, turning back and looking at her. The box. The green now a paler shade than it had originally been. Dust gathering on the top. “I know this isn’t what you wanted,” I admitted, perhaps for the first time ever. “And maybe I was wrong not to let go.”
You did what you had to do,she said back in my head. Perhaps it was really her. Or maybe just my mind still playing tricks on me. And then there was a gust of wind, just a soft flow against the back of my neck. Like a caress from her fingertips.
Perhaps I was losing my mind. Or maybe I wasn’t, as I lifted her down from her resting place. Blew the dust off the top of the box and let my finger trace the lid.
I shouldn’t do this on my own. I should have asked the boys. Talked to Mrs Patel next door. Let her say her goodbyes. This was unplanned and rash. Not rational. Definitely not me. But then maybe?
She had been mine. Finally all mine. Mine to keep forever, and perhaps I was just prolonging the inevitable for everyone, standing here contemplating doing this.
It’s okay, she whispered in my head.Let me fly. Because things will be fine without me. They already are.
I should have put her back and just gone for my run, but it didn’t feel right. So I gently cradled her in my arms and walked out the door. Steady strides up the road. I took her past the old primary school, where we’d dropped the boys off every day. The little café on the corner. The community theatre we’d supported throughout the years. I took her past the playground and the little pond. Up the hill and through the clearing to the left. To where there still was a bench that was now covered in graffiti.
We can see the whole city from here,she said, sitting there right next to me. She wore the skirt, the long blue one she loved to wear around the house. Her blouse buttoned low as she fanned herself in the heat.It’s one of those second summers.She laughed, letting her feet pedal slowly in the air.London is so sticky and hot. Not like the seaside. We loved it there too.
“We did,” I said gently. “But this is home. The whole world at our feet.”
It still is.
“I know.”
I wasn’t sure why I was saying the words out loud, since she was in my head anyway. But it felt right. Her hair was blowing gently in the wind. I could even smell her. The faint scent of her face cream. That expensive shampoo.
You’ve done well.
“I tried.”
No, darling, you have. You finally broke free and went with what you were really feeling. That’s huge for you, a big step forward. Everything you’ve done; it’s all had a purpose, and now you’ve finally moved on. You and the kids. I couldn’t be prouder of you, and our boys.
I nodded. Because that was all I could do.
“Georgie…he’s very smart,” I said quietly. “Very good for our Ed. And Cal… He needs to let loose. Not worry so much about everything. He’ll get there. I’ll keep my eye on him.”
Cal will be fine, sweetheart. He has your genes. It just takes him a little longer to find his bravery. Just like it does for you.
I could hear her voice. See her talking, sat there looking right at me. This wasn’t real. Because I could feel the weight of her in my arms. But still?
“I’m still not brave,” I admitted. My hands were shaking, holding on to that box. Because once I did this? There would never be any going back. This was final. And I still wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do.
I’m sorry, she said. And my body did a little jerk.I’m sorry for not always listening when you needed me to. For pushing you harder than I should have. You frustrated me so much when I saw what you needed and yet you pulled back. You were always so frightened of everything you wanted. Scared that this would be the time when we finally broke. I can tell you now, we never would have. And we never did. We were both strong on our own, but together? We were…sometimes unstoppable.
“And sometimes? We were destructive.”
I could see her, so clearly. Her face so full of that sadness. I wore it as well because I had so many regrets. So many things I shouldn’t have done. Have said. Have wanted.
Neither of us was perfect, my love.
“We were sometimes wrong. Often off track.”
We were. I was sometimes a terrible parent. A lot of the time, I was an awful partner. I wasn’t trustworthy with your feelings. I wasn’t always paying attention. And I know I hurt you. I wish I could take it all back. Take that whole bloody book business back. Make it disappear. But I can’t.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
No, it doesn’t, she agreed.Because we can’t change things after they’re said and done. Not in life and not after.
“I will always…be a little hurt.”
