The dreams

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I cannot believe I’ve broken into his house. What did I think I would achieve? Why did I bring my daughter? If I get caught, who’s going to look after her? What, did I think he’d just be okay with it? Did I think this would make him leave her? For me? It’s not like I can move. It’s not even like he’d ever choose me. Why did I do this?

I stood staring at the work bench in front of me. Boxes were stacked, various rooms or themes scribbled on the side. I knew he was moving, I knew this place would be empty but I don’t know why I thought coming here would benefit anyone. And it’s the middle of the night, what on earth was I expecting? I remember him telling me, they’re buying “their new home” – one that isn’t his that she moved into. One that is “theirs”. He says he doesn’t care the way she does but I know him. Even if he ever fell out of love with her, she’d still be on a pedestal. He'd still try to make her happy to make himself feel even a shred of worth. He’s an idiot. An idiot who can’t see I’ve always been here, thinking he’s the most beautiful mess of a creature on this planet. He only humours me, I know that.
I grabbed the edge of the table, resisting the urge to throw things. I can’t leave signs I was here. I felt the tears splash on the backs of my hands and tried to focus on breathing. I have to let go. I have to leave. I’ve got to let him live his life, right? Right.

More tears fell for a few minutes while I tried to regain composure, thankful that the journey to his house had been long and had exhausted my daughter. She was sound asleep upstairs, excited to explore the parks in the snow. I nodded. We’re going to make the most of this mistake. I’m going to book a hotel for a few nights and we’re going to go exploring. First thing in the morning, we’ll leave here before anyone even knows.

I stood up, wiped my face with my sleeve and let out a final sigh. I looked around, making sure it wasn’t obvious anyone had been in here. Apart from a few tears on the table, that would dry soon, you’d never even know. I turned to the door and pulled it open.

I jumped back, he was here. He was stood right in front of me, staring in shock. Obviously, he hadn’t been expecting some random person to be there. Why was he here? It’s 1am. I felt my heart pound in my chest, my pulse racing, my breath shortening. What should I say? What should I do? “I – I’m So –“

Before I could even finish the word, he took one stride towards me and gently but forcefully walked me backwards until I felt a cold wall against my back. My hands were still at my side, my eyes locked on his face. Was he crying? I wanted to touch him. But I’m an intruder. He probably doesn’t even know it’s me. His hands were either side of my shoulders, his gaze was burning, watching me squirm. “It’s you, right? It’s really you?” I watched a tear fall. He is crying.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” I didn’t know what to say. I shouldn’t have broken in? I shouldn’t have come in the first place? I shouldn’t have ever bothered him? All of them felt appropriate. I bit my lip. The corner of his lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile.

“I’ve told you before, never say sorry to me.” Before I could even respond, he closed the gap between us. I felt one hand snake around my waist, the other stayed planted on the wall as he pushed against me. His lips caressed mine, gentle, longing, loving. I kissed back without hesitation, almost melting into him right there. As if sensing me going weak at the knees, his other arm wrapped around me, holding me closer as the kiss deepened. It became desperate, urgent, possessive.

In that moment, we both fully knew, I was his. I didn’t want to fight it but even if I had, I would have lost. We kissed heavily for a moment before he pulled away, only enough to let us breathe. His forehead rested on mine and I gently touched a fingertip to his face to wipe the tears. “Why?” I whispered. Afraid that any noise might scare him away or wake me up from what was very likely a dream. I held my hand to his cheek, letting my thumb stroke gently.

He covered my hand with his before gently holding it away to kiss the palm of my hand. “Because I was afraid you weren’t here. I was afraid I was hallucinating. But then you tripped over your words,” He laughed lightly, “even in my best dreams, my most vivid imagination, I couldn’t picture you as perfect as the real you.” I went bright red and tried to pull my hand away from his to cover my face. He laughed a little harder at that and held my hand tightly as he put it by my side. He held me close to him, resting his face against my neck. “Don’t leave. Stay.”