Haven
Getting lost in London was quickly becoming one of my favorite things to do. It was the beginning of my second week working as a freelance writer. I’d contacted various Internet news outlets and one of them had said they would look at an article about sexism in the workplace. I’d barely slept for the last few days as I dug up as much background as I could on the subject. I was more excited about writing than I had been in years.
To get myself out of my flat, a few times a week I had taken the first bus that came along, and got off at a random stop and found myself a café to work in. I enjoyed the freedom of it. Today I’d ended up in Chelsea.
I found myself a seat outside an uber-cool coffee house, ordered a drink and opened my laptop. I sat back as my computer booted up and I watched the world go by. It was a busy street, and I took in the shoppers paused at windows and delivery drivers unloading their packages. Everyone had a role to play. To the left of me, there was someone busying away on their phones, and to the right a group of three women having a catch up over coffee. I smiled. It felt good that this was my place of work.
Jake was never far from my mind, but I pushed him back into my memories whenever he escaped. It was too painful to think about him for long and I was sure the pain would consume me, pull me under like a riptide. I had to hold that in—I wasn’t ready to deal with that yet. I wasn’t sure if I ever would be. I hoped he was happy. If I could have done things over, I would have fought harder for him. Millie might be having his baby, but I knew I could make him happy. He loved me, and I should have trusted that.
I pulled my attention back to my laptop and began to type.
Two drained coffee cups and a half-eaten sandwich later, it started to rain lightly. The hours had slipped by. I gathered up my things, left money for my coffee and headed back to the bus stop. As I was about halfway down the street, my phone began to buzz in my bag. I stopped and dug it out.
It was Ash.
“Hey.” As I answered, I lifted my head and found myself staring into a familiar art gallery window. It looked like the place Jake’d had his exhibition.
“Hi, what are you doing? Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” Ash asked.
I stood back slightly to see the name of the gallery painted above the awning. I was sure it was the one. I squinted through the glass, past the painting hanging in the window to see if I could spot anything familiar.
“Haven?” Ash said.
“Ash, I’m going to have to call you back.” Without waiting for a response, I hung up. Was that Jake’s picture of the bridge?
It felt like the riptide was calling to me. I couldn’t not go inside. The urge to be near a piece of Jake overwhelmed my need to prevent myself from breaking down.
I pushed the door open. A small bell rang and I stepped through the entrance, going immediately to the picture of the bridge. It was just as beautiful as I’d remembered it. I stood staring at it for long minutes before my attention was drawn to the picture next to it. I hadn’t seen it before but the scene seemed familiar. It was of a cobbled street, full of people, cafes and street musicians. You could hear the noises from it, feel the atmosphere. I leaned closer to read the description printed on the information card, next to the photograph. It read “Jake Harrison, Falling in Love in Ile de la Cité”. The words struck me like a thunderbolt and my legs weakened.
“I could get you a discount if you’re interested. I know the photographer,” a voice said from behind me. My breath caught as my legs started to collapse from under me.
“Hey.”
I felt Jake’s hands on me, steadying me.
“Are you okay? Come sit.”
I couldn’t look up. I couldn’t see it was him, confirm what I knew was happening. If I did, I would be sure to crumble into pieces.
“Sorry,” I mumbled as I sat down. “Too much coffee.” I slid my hands over my face to delay the inevitable sight of him.
He knelt in front of me and wrapped his hands around my wrists, gently uncovering my face. I didn’t have the strength to fight him. I dropped my hands, and we locked eyes and my heart actually stopped.
“Are you okay?” he asked again.
I shook my head. I wasn’t okay. Seeing him was the worst thing that could have happened. The walls I’d built around my thoughts came crashing down and I allowed myself to properly experience the grief of losing him.
He stood abruptly. He was angry at me, and I couldn’t blame him.
“Dave, I’m going. I’ll speak to you later.” I heard a voice respond and then Jake was back, his hands on my back. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”
I stood as Jake guided me out of the gallery. His car was just outside and he helped me in and fastened my seatbelt for me. I was helpless, unable to do the most basic things.
As we drove, I was aware of Jake alternating his gaze between me and the road.
“Should I call Ash?” he asked. “Or Luke?”
I shook my head. “I’m so sorry.” My throat was tight. Being so close to him made my loss all the more acute. I’d missed his smell, his hands, the way he took care of me.
“Don’t be sorry. Tell me what’s wrong.”
I dropped my head into my hands and I tried to concentrate on not crying. We spent the rest of the journey in silence.
“I thought we were going back home? To my place?” I asked as he parked on an unfamiliar street.
“Yeah,” he said. “We are.”
I didn’t get a chance to ask him why we were making a pit stop as he swiftly exited the car, rounded the hood and opened the passenger door.
“Come on,” he said and he held out his hand to help me out of the car.
Where were we? Maybe it did look familiar, but I didn’t know why. He led me though large double doors into a lobby with a black slate floor and a security guard behind a shiny chrome desk. I’d been here before.
“I want to show you something,” he said as he led me into the elevator. I stared at my toes, trying to keep everything inside and contained. Trying to keep myself from crumbling into small pieces. I didn’t have spare energy to ask him where he was taking me.
I followed him out of the elevator. We were in an apartment block. He fiddled with some keys and opened a large door, holding it open wide and ushering me inside a darkened hallway. The walls were dark grey panels of silk surrounded by an edge of light. Where were we?
At the end of the hallway, I saw the view and realized where we were. We’d been to this place before, he and I.
“Sit down and let me get you some water,” he said as I stumbled between boxes toward the sofa and the huge window.
I felt so ridiculous; he was trying to make me feel better when he was the cause of my pain.
He handed me a glass of water and came to sit next to me on one of the large gray sofas that faced the view. I sipped at the water and set it on the coffee table in front of me.
Despite the irony of the situation, I was so pleased to see him. I was relieved at how familiar he was still.
“You bought it,” I said, looking around. It felt like Jake more now than when we had seen it before. It was still an impressive space, with high ceilings and the windows making it seem huge, but it also felt like home. The warmth of the walnut floors and the comforting fabrics were very welcoming.
He nodded. “Are you better? You have a bit more color. What happened back there?”
I smiled. He had no idea that it was him that had me in a state of near collapse.
“I’m sorry. I’m sure I’ll be better soon. I hope I’m better soon.”
He reached out and clasped the base of my neck, his thumb and forefinger rubbing against my skin. “Talk to me, Haven. We had a deal. You tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Remember?”
I smiled again, a sad smile this time. That deal felt as if it had been made a lifetime ago.
“I just want to stop having to make such an effort to be okay all the time. I just want to be okay,” I finally said.
“Are you sick?” he asked, his voice faltering as he moved closer to me.
I shook my head and felt the words begin to tumble out. “It was the picture and you. I just miss you and I keep telling myself that walking away was the right thing to do, but it still feels so wrong. I just want you and I hate that Millie has you, and I just ruined everything—”
His arms swept round me and suddenly I was in his lap, my head on his chest.
“You’re missing me?” he asked.
“I feel like I’m dying from missing you,” I replied, no longer able to hold it in.
“I should have fought harder,” he said. “I shouldn’t have given in so easily. It’s been killing me, being apart from you.”
“But you have Millie now,” I said, not quite processing what he had just said.
“Millie was never a part of me. You always will be.”
“But you’re together. I saw you. On a date.”
He sighed. “Beth was right all along. Millie was trying to get us back together. I should have seen it, but because I was so focused on the baby, I ignored her or excused her. I don’t know. She was never pregnant.”
My body tensed and I lifted my head off his chest to look at him. Had I heard that right? “She made the whole thing up?”
He nodded, his eyes soft and sad.
“You should have told me. Are you upset?” I asked.
“I think I was, at first.”
I slumped back against him, wanting his warmth. “Wow.”
“I’ve missed you so much. I don’t think there will ever be a time when I’m not in love with you.” His words reverberated in his chest and against my body. I felt them in every part of me.
“I love you, too,” I whispered. I’d been holding it in for so long; I felt lighter for sharing it.
My body moved with his as he inhaled. “You love me?” His voice croaked.
“I do, and I’m so sorry I gave up on us.”
“You have no apology to make. Do you think you can forgive me for letting you go?” Jake’s hands smoothed around my waist. “I want you back and I will do everything it takes.”
“I would forgive you anything, Jake, but I chose to walk away. You just gave me what I wanted. You can’t take the blame for that.”
Jake’s hands slid up my back, and I placed a kiss on his chest.
“I called your place earlier today, before I went to the gallery. I tried to call you too, but it went straight to voicemail.”
“You did?”
“I need you, Haven. Even if you’re with someone else, I’ll do anything to win you back. I know that we belong together.”
“There will never be anyone for me except you. Nothing’s changed there.”
He pulled me closer to him and his heartbeat boomed against my chest. We sat like that, in each other’s arms, just savoring being together, letting it seep in and build us both back up. I drew strength from him and for the first time, I realized that he might do the same from me.
“And then you were there in Chelsea, in the gallery. It was as if you were waiting for me. Were you?”
I thought about it. “I think I would always have been waiting for you,” I replied.
“You’re not at work. That’s where I was heading after the gallery.”
“I don’t work at Rallegra anymore.”
“You don’t? What happened?”
“I was offered the promotion to deputy editor and I decided it wasn’t what I wanted after all. I didn’t fit there.”
“I never thought you did,” Jake said. “So, do you just hang out at art galleries now?”
I grinned at him. “I’m trying the freelance thing. I want to write about things that matter to me. I want to be the woman you see in me.”
“God, I’m so proud of you,” he said, grinning back at me and he pulled me toward him.
“You matter to me,” I whispered.
He brushed his lips against mine. My eyes fell shut and hope exploded in my chest.