Never Really Over

Epilogue

The Future

Beth's digital photo frame still sits on her desk. There are hundreds more pictures loaded onto it now from all the memories she and John have made over the years.

There's one from the day they got the keys to their Manchester apartment, the first place they called home. The one John let Beth decorate and furnish just how she wanted because, as she never failed to remind him, she was the boss. They loved their city life. The pictures show that. Brunches on their rare weekends off together. Dinners out with friends. Evenings spent watching the sunset on the terrace whatever the weather. Lazy days in bed not even bothering to get dressed.

There's a picture of them at the World Cup in Qatar. It was another tournament where it just wasn't meant to be. The morning after England's quarter final exit, still in bed, wrapped up in each other, Beth had told John that she had handed in her notice at the FA. She loved working alongside him, but he needed to enjoy being with his team mates instead of sneaking off to be with her all the time. Besides, her blog had taken off and she wanted to focus more on her writing.

There's a snapshot of them in Rome, where they got engaged. John popping the question at the Trevi Fountain, just like they had watched someone doing years ago, and he had vowed he'd never have the bottle to do, but he'd found it, probably because he had known what the answer would be. He hadn't got down on one knee, she'd looked mischievously at him and demanded he do it, but he hadn't budged, he'd asked her dad and that would have to be good enough. Roberto's response had been 'it's about time' and Beth agreed, she had been pestering John about getting engaged for what felt like years. When she had clasped the hand that played host to her new engagement ring to John's hot cheek, she was reminded of how much he loved her, how he would do anything to make her happy, even publicly humiliating himself. She was the luckiest girl in the world.

The year they turned 30, John started getting itchy feet and thinking about their forever home. For years they had been talking about their dream house, Beth making plans in her notebook and adding inspiration to Pinterest boards. John was in charge of the boring things, like finding the land, and when his brief was 'anywhere you want', this it wasn't an easy task. He had joined a golf club; Beth had joked did he want her to start getting his pyjamas and slippers ready for him in the evenings. He was following a traffic diversion one day when he had noticed a house near the golf club for sale. A house that would be ready to move into, they wouldn't have to worry about architects or builders or any of that. He'd taken Beth to view the house under the ruse of afternoon tea at the golf club with his mum. She had known he was up to something the entire time, he still hated afternoon tea, always grumbling he was still hungry afterwards, so she hadn't really been surprised when he had admitted they weren't going straight home afterwards. Don't freak out he had pleaded as they pulled up in front of the house John could already see himself living in. "I know this isn't the plan but just give it a chance." He liked the simple life, playing Bob the Builder wasn't for him.

She was as a stubborn as ever and remarked that the driveway was wrong. There was no gravel, she wanted gravel. He just smiled knowingly at her, because he knew her and he knew she would love this house as much as he did because he had an ace up his sleeve. Besides, he liked the driveway, he could already see their kids riding their bikes on it.

He didn't even have to take her inside. He led her right around the house to the sprawling back garden with a lake running along the bottom of it. All these years later, Beth still grumbled about missing out on that little apartment on the canal she had loved.

"Is that enough water for you?!" He'd wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. God he was smug when he was right about something.