Diary of a Reluctant Ruler

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The room was too hot to bear. Humidity or otherwise. Next minute I found myself outside in the street, once more in autopilot as my thoughts spiralled out of control. Why was he here? Had he known I was in Paris? He couldn’t have, or he would have avoided coming… or would he? A whole tumbled mixture of emotions flared in my thumping chest.

“Phil!”

The front door to the flats slammed open behind me.

“Go away!” I cried, my voice breaking as my throat and eyes loaded the crying program.

“Shut up, please,” James said softly, “I’ve got such a headache from this weather.”

“Sorry,” I replied, mollified and guilty for over-reacting.

The last thing I said to this man was that I loved him…

Actually, the very last thing you said to him was ‘Go away!’

Go away yourself.

I wouldn’t miss this for the world.

James stood quietly by me, leaning against the railing across steps. The silence felt comforting. We stood there for a long time. My tears quietened and my chest renouncing its hiccup-sobs. A breeze began to pick up, blowing away the humid air and drying my tear-streaked face. I caught James’ gaze and looked away, trying to catch my attention in the leaning bows of a tree across the road. I knew he was watching me. I waited, unable to look back until I knew I was ready. I breathed slowly, softly, regaining control. I wanted to reach out, just to touch him and know he was there… but that was too much. So instead I raised my head, let his eyes meet mine, just took in every aspect of his face. His gaze was soft and steady, lingering on mine but unforceful.

“Tell me everything,” he prompted.

I sighed, sat down on the steps, and began to talk.

Each word took a weight off my chest, like a tiny moth pulling away at the thread of an old piece of knitting. Slowly it unravelled, ordered, obvious, one long phase of my life. It hurt coming out, but the pain was gratuitous.

“You got a tattoo?” James asked, once I’d wound to a close.

“Yeah…” I replied, gritting my teeth for a bad reaction.

“Can – Can I see it?” he asked.

I blinked, not expecting that reaction. I pulled my hair away from the back of my neck and showed him the tiny heart. I waited with bated breath. He traced it momentarily with a cold finger, making my neck and back tingle with static.

“I like it,” he said after a moment.

I smiled, pushing my hair back, watching James’ gaze flitter from tree to railing to paving stones, to me to the trees lining the street again.

“It’s a well known fact that guys aren’t usually good at commitment,” James said after a while, his own thought process beginning to unravel for me, “…and that’s just with small things. Committing yourself to one girl is difficult enough. But you, Phil? Committing to you is committing to a whole Kingdom. And Adria doesn’t look like it would deal nicely with rejection. A woman scorned is one thing, but an entire country?”

He paused, hooking the fingers of his right hand through mine, entwined on our knees which rested together. My heart began to skip beats.

“At first I guess I just didn’t acknowledge it. I just pushed it to the back of my mind and enjoyed the attention instead. But then the attention began commenting – the press, every article, every newspaper reminding me of what I was doing, how much I might hurt you, how much I had to live up to…

“I went to the Academy in Rous because I wanted to escape from the responsibility which my parents would surely put on me. I picked music because it seemed like the easiest option, something that I could do naturally, without thinking too hard…

“And then you came along. Beautiful-”

I started to laugh but stopped, seeing reproach in his dark eyes.

“-but not afraid to let your guard down; falling over anything but waltzing like a dove-”

“Doves can’t waltz,” I mumbled, pedantic in embarrassment.

“Shut up,” he admonished, putting a finger over my lips, “You. Just you. Meredith, also known as Phil; a princess without the slightest idea of being correct in everyday life… I got to know you so fast and I couldn’t help but like it. Everything about you just clicked.

“But then everything piled up and I bailed,” he stopped again, eyes once more resting on the sky, “…and it was the best and worst mistake of my life,” he continued; “The worst, for obvious reasons. The best, because it made me realise just how much I really care about you.”

Another pause. He shifted from where he was sitting so that he sat facing me. Both of my hands were clasped in his. The humidity was intense, the breeze faltering and swelling in an erratic fashion. I couldn’t breathe enough.

“I love you too.”

I turned the unfamiliar words over in my head, nursing them close, attempting to grasp their entire meaning and not quite managing.

“Maybe you won’t want to marry me, and I understand that – I’m three years older than you and probably a lot surer of what I want. But Phil, I love you and I’m entirely certain that I can spend the rest of my life with you. And we can work problems out together, rather than leave them hiding until it’s too late. If there are problems, then there are problems; that’s part of being married – riding out the storm.”

“Are you-” I began, my throat constricting, “Are you asking- Are you-”

I couldn’t finish the sentence, but James did.

“Meredith Caramont, I’m asking you to marry me.”

Words wouldn’t form in my mouth. Thoughts were overloading. Is this what I wanted? What I really wanted? Did I want to wake up next to this man for the rest of my life? Did I want to sleep with him, wake up with him, eat with him, have children with him, grow old and die with him? The blur of thoughts was dizzying. I didn’t know what to do, I had never known what to do, I was always told. Yet there were no orders in my ears now, no person prompting me to answer, no offered course of action.

“Meredith?” James asked, coming over to where I had wandered, having been disorientated with thoughts, “Meredith, I love you.”

His face hovered blearily in front of mine and I realised I was crying again. But then it hit me properly for the first time. Of course he loved me. He always would, just like I’d always love him. No matter how fat or thin, ill or healthy, poor or wealthy, I would love him just the same and more. Because I wanted to have every part of him and to give him every part of me. No matter what disagreement, I wanted to work it out and be kissing him again the next day. And with this brainwave a single little word of three letters pops out of nowhere, having almost disappeared in the blizzard of alarming thoughts but now apparent despite everything.

I giggled.

“What?” he said, frowning.

I giggled again.

“Phil, I just asked you to marry me, and all you can do is laugh. It’s not helpful,” he continued.

But the giggling wouldn’t stop and soon it was bursting into fully-fledged laughter tumbling into the air which was suddenly clear and cool and then-

Rain.

A flash ignited the grey-clouded sky, quickly succeeded by rolling thunder, and fat droplets began flying through the air, splashing against the pavement. It soaked the skin quickly, absorbed thirstily by our clothes. The word lingered on my lips, ready to be spoken, ready to be voiced, ready to be heard. So I spoke it.

“Yes.”

I laughed, water dripping into my hair, my eyes, mingling with my tears, “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

And then James was laughing, exploding with it deep in his chest, and his arms wrapped around me, and the rain soaked and the thunder roared above our heads and my heart no longer ached in my chest but beat hard against my ribs, joyful, happy, over-flowing… Our lips collided and I knew I’d made the right choice.