Chapter Nineteen
Kirk landed on her doorstep that night. One year, one month, one week later, he was back.
Perhaps, if someone had said to her immediately after the break-up, ‘don’t worry, he’ll be back. It might take him one year, one month and one week to come to his senses, but he’ll be back,’ would that have made things any easier?
In those early days, when she had sobbed her heart out, devastated at his sudden departure, feeling like a limb had been ripped off, it would have given her comfort to know that he’d be back.
Much of the pain had been that sudden shock, the immediate departure; he was fine one day and the next day he was gone.
Sasha opened the door to see him standing there, with a smile on his face that was almost apologetic; a smile that said, ‘Sorry, me again! I know I was here last night but here I am again, back already.’
His train journey home and then his train journey straight back up again was like something that happened in a romantic movie; not something that happened in real life.
“Come in, come in,” Sasha ushered gently; pushing the door wide open and letting the soft glow of the living-room lamps light up his face.
He set foot over the threshold; immediately commenting on the delicious aroma that greeted his nostrils.
“Smells gorgeous. You’ve been cooking.”
Sasha smiled warmly. “Just some pizza. Thought you might be hungry after a long day?”
Kirk’s face swamped with relief. “Starving,” he agreed.
Sasha pointed towards the bedroom. “Settle yourself – your coat and bag and so on – I’ll get you a glass of wine.”
“Brilliant!” he gushed.
She was aware she was like something out of a fifties woman’s magazine. She was practically bringing him his papers and slippers the minute he arrived home from work. Where this inner domestic goddess had come from, she did not know. She knew that, really, he didn’t deserve any of it. That a year ago he had stormed out of the door, slamming it behind him, and now he was back, like a cherished husband.
They sat at the dining-room table, candles flickering and soft music playing as they tucked into the pizza and sipped the wine.
“So, you’ve had quite a day of it, then…?” Sasha ventured, filling the silence of the room that had previously only been broken by the glug-glug-glug of the wine bottle.
Kirk’s face fell into a dramatic roll-eye coupled with a sigh.
“My God, Sasha, you would not believe the day I’ve had.” His face looked frazzled and harassed; his shoulders hunched and stressed.
Sasha listened quietly. In an odd, non-feminist way, she was quite enjoying this; being his oasis of calm, the quiet place that he could retreat to at the end of a long day.
“I was on the train on the way home this morning…” Kirk began.
Sasha nodded, listening intently, lifting her glass for another sip of wine.
“And I was sitting there and I just felt so… depressed.”
Sasha tilted her head sympathetically.
“It was just such a wet miserable day…” he went on. “And I was on the train going away from you, and that would be the last time I’d see you, and I was going home to reality. My sister sick, my mum sick… me and Denise on a break. It was just all so depressing…”
Sasha nodded again in sympathy, letting the words ‘on the train away from you…’ settle into her mind.
“We had such a lovely comforting time at yours, and then I was heading back to the reality of Dublin, and it just seemed so cold and bleak and depressing.”
Sasha smiled softly, liking the part where her home seemed comforting.
“And then Denise phoned me,” Kirk sighed. “And she started giving off at me. ‘Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer your phone?’ Kirk contorted his voice into snide mimicry as he recalled Denise’s words.
Sasha couldn’t ignore the voice of her inner critic, chiding her. So, this is what it’s like to be the other woman. This is what it’s like to be the bit on the side, yet tell yourself that you’re the priority. This is what it’s like to feel an ounce of glee when you know they’ve had a row; it means that he’s one step closer to you.
She hated herself for it; didn’t recognise herself. When had she turned into that woman?
“And she started giving off about ‘why didn’t you call me back?’ and ‘why weren’t you picking up your phone?’ and blah-blah-blah. And I just snapped and said ‘Fine! Let’s break up completely then!’ and I hung up. So that was just another thing on top of everything else…”
Hold on. Back up. Back up. You’re finished? Sasha’s antennae sprang up immediately.
“So, you guys are over completely, then?” Sasha voiced her thoughts.
“Yep,” Kirk answered decisively, picking up another piece of pizza and popping it in his mouth.
“Right…” Sasha said, trying to sound cool and detached whilst inwardly whooping. Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod! They’re over. Woohoo! I knew he’d be back one day, I knew we were meant to be together!
“And then I went round to see my sister…” Kirk carried on. “And she’s in a really bad way and it’s just so depressing to see her like that…”
Sasha nodded understandingly but her mind was still stuck on the previous comments. Kirk and Denise had actually spilt up completely and now he was back up seeing her. That meant one thing and one thing only – Kirk and Sasha were getting back together again. After all this time, they were meant to be. She knew it. That’s why she couldn’t let go. That’s why he kept emailing her. That’s why she couldn’t move on. Because she and Kirk were soulmates and they were meant to be together. Forever.
She could almost hear the tinkle of the church bells. She could almost see her sparkling wedding dress. She could imagine their happy-ever-after as they walked away into the sunset together.
They didn’t discuss the Denise break-up any more after that. Nor did they discuss getting back together. But Sasha felt there was an unspoken agreement. That was why he was here. That was why he’d come back. It hadn’t worked with Denise because he’d missed Sasha so much.
After the pizza, they lay on the sofa together, chatting, listening to music, kissing, having sex. Kirk had given her more of those tablets which gave her a lovely warm floaty feeling again, as though she had no cares in the world; as though she was wrapped in cotton wool.
They were having fun together again; it was like a first date, as though they were falling for each other all over again.
“I’m falling in love with you all over again,” Kirk blurted out suddenly.
It was like music to Sasha’s ears. A full-blown orchestra of epic proportions, along with blaring trombones and clashing cymbals.
This was what she had wanted. This was what she had dreamed of. That he would rock up on her doorstep and tell her that he was still in love with her. And now it was happening.
They sat up late, talking and kissing and making love, as though they were in the first flushes of love, as though they were just getting to know each other, all over again.
Falling in love, all over again.
It all seemed so perfect; so meant to be; like the last piece of the jigsaw puzzle finally clicking into place.
But then the next morning came around all too soon – and things started to go downhill all over again.