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The next two days literally dragged agonisingly by. He didn’t try to contact her at all and she knew that he would have collected Morag and settled her at home as he had planned. She wondered what he had said to the other woman. If he had even bothered to keep trying to tell her that he had moved on and needed her to stop.
Did he really need to anymore?
It ate and gnawed away at her, tainting every moment of every hour, unsure what she even was to him now. If in his head, she had ended things for good.
Abby took her to the cinema on Saturday afternoon, to distract her and give them both some much-needed bonding time, seeing as lately they hadn’t done much of it. Rob was giving both the cold shoulder it seemed and the girls left him out of conversation.
The film did nothing to lift either of their reflective moods, some romantic chick flick which was annoyingly engagement and drama based and full of family hilarity. Dinner at a cheap fast food place after was strained and they had to admit neither was in the mood to be sociable, both equally distracted by Rob and their own fights with him.
She dropped Abby at home later that night feeling the sinking ache at the absence of his car, the lack of contact. The dark lights of his rooms as she drove around the wide park to turn and leave; it was like he had just ceased to exist in her little world. His lack of presence was like a black hole in her heart consuming any light.
She pulled up his number a hundred times to phone him but could not bring herself to press call. She knew she should be the one to do it, after all, she was the one who had broken off their engagement in a flurry of female insanity. She just couldn’t. He had his reasons to be sorry too, he had partial blame in this and the way he had pushed her out. Stubbornness setting in, Rose’s worst flaw was this internal sense of injustice that made it impossible to be the one to reach out to him.
At night, she was restless in bed, sure every noise or creak was him driving up to the cottage, but it wasn’t. She couldn’t sleep. Crying sporadically and getting up a hundred times to get water or tissues, or to toss and turn. She must have readjusted her cushions a dozen times and even opened and shut her window and curtains a dozen more. Poor Muffin had even vacated the bed and gone to sleep on the couch away from her restlessness.
She left her bed when it was still dark, barely grazing morning, and built a fire in the lounge. Taking her mind off everything and hoping to warm the icy shivers that had been raking through her alone in the bed. The summer was ending and the colder nights moving in slowly; It just made her feel more depressed and alone. She just could not get him out of her head and it was slowly driving her into insanity.
Warmed by the flickering flames, she finally drifted to sleep on the couch. Finally finding some peace to her inner turmoil but dreaming restlessly, tossing and turning, yet again; only this time on a narrow couch and barely stayed still through into the early hours of the Sunday morning. Muffin had moved back to the bed in a bid to be free and he slept alone and in peace.
Getting up from another night without him made it feel even worse. Part of her always hoping he would appear; pulling her to him in the dark like he always did and wiping all of this away; but he never materialised.
He would be coming home today. Maybe he already was. It was early, but he had not been sure if he would have an overnight arrival or early morning, so he could literally come home at any time, if not already. Her heart sank when she checked her phone for the hundredth time and it still showed nothing from him.
At least with the distance between them, he had an excuse to stay away. Back home there was nothing to use as an excuse for his staying away, except that he didn’t want to see her.
She tried not to watch the clock. Tried to go about the morning as she normally would. Feeding Muffin and taking him a walk; a long soak in a bubble bath and an age choosing something to wear before spending a crazy amount of time on her hair and makeup and even longer painting her nails.
Listlessly pacing from her work room a dozen times to fetch tea and notes, wearing her rugs threadbare with her manic prisoner like stalking around her floorspace. The walking around a sign of her inability to just settle, her mind elsewhere while her ears were still tuned into every noise outside, waiting endlessly for familiar tyres on gravel. She couldn’t stand it anymore.
The clock had dragged slowly to noon and there was no way she could deny his return anymore. He would be back for sure; his flights always came in early morning and the drive home was less than an hour from the airfield.
He wasn’t coming.
She couldn’t stay here like this, torturing herself and she knew how stubborn he could be; they both could be. Maybe he was waiting for her to make the next move. He had said ‘When she cooled down’ Maybe that’s what he was doing right?
Torn with indecisiveness and struggling to decide.
Go or stay?
Fuck
Muffin gave her a quizzical look as she asked out loud. No answers in the little cute face, staring at her with hanging tongue and cocked head. It was almost as if he was saying ‘Why are you still here?
She realised without deciding, her body was already moving around, collecting her bag and phone: her head taking a moment to catch up with the plan and her heart going into complete erratic overdrive, beating so hard her chest was heaving. Stubborn Rose was in full control again and she was pushing herself to go face the issue head on.
What was the worst he could do? Break up? She had already done that for the second time. If anyone had a reason to be insecure it sure wasn’t her.
Could he refuse to see her?
Sitting here alone was worse, the agony of not knowing what was happening between them. At least knowing he had turned her away wasn’t the same as endlessly waiting, second guessing if he would appear. She would go up and if he told her to leave then she would know exactly where they stood. Telling her to go away would be a clear message that he was done with her and their relationship.
Swallowing down fear and pride, she drove up the long sweeping drive to the familiar dark stone manor, towering above her. The plants and trees had started to darken in colour lately, giving the old building a more sinister vibe as autumn approached, more historical and foreboding.
Rob’s car was parked neatly in its usual spot, shaded by a large tree near the house and the mere sight of it sent her heart plummeting, sure he was now home and hadn’t been anywhere near her intentionally. Not that she could blame him, she had acted insane and she didn’t deserve any other treatment.
Pulling up and parking beside the sleek black car, she lost her nerve almost instantly. The car was like a foreboding presence and knowing he was here had her feeling suddenly terrified. Nausea rising and a dizziness clouding her vision, anxiety biting at her insides. She rested her face on her steering wheel for a moment, trying to steady her breathing and calm her shaking hands, closing her eyes and steadying her shaking body to get a grip. She was aware of the hotness of her face, drowning out all noises as she listened to the blood rushing from her brain. She brought her arms up to cushion the sides of her face and wrap over her head, trying to dig down deep for some sense of bravado to get out the car in between deep slow breaths.
It wasn’t needed. The click of her opening door startled her and the soft smooth voice that followed had her heart stop mid beat.
‘Are you planning on sitting out here all day?’
She hesitated, looking sideways at his waist and torso but bit her lip, steeling her nerves and glanced up. He was agonisingly handsome, leaning down towards her, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, looking effortless as he always did. He had his hands resting above her door frame and supporting his weight, making his shirt to pull up to expose a small inch of carved abdomen. A sight she had ached for, but now was being tortured by. His hair freshly cut and his face cleanly shaven, he smelled of that familiar seductive scent and his face as unreadable as always. Cold perfection, just like the first time she ever laid eyes on him.
‘No, I was just......’ Her voice trailed off quietly. Unable to meet those eyes she knew were trained on her. She fumbled, pulling out her keys and bag and moved to get out as he stepped out of the way. She wanted to stare at his face, breath him in and throw herself around him but her pride and uncertainty held her back. Instead, she silently straightened up, sensing him moving back out of her way further, closing her door and locking it; he was standing with crossed arms watching her. His nearness affecting her far more than she was letting on.
