Run To Me

Panic stations

It wasn't until a couple of weeks later that Tom really realised just how MUCH he had fucked up.

A couple of days after the visit to the solicitor, Molly seemed to be back to her old self. Well, in most respects. They lived and laughed and, yes, loved together. They went for walks with Bobby, to the beach, to the forest, to see Tom's family. Everything was fine.

Except it wasn't.

The smile still never reached her eyes. She tried. She really really tried. But something inside her just seemed off.  In her quiet moments, alone, she knew she was unhappy. Deeply unhappy. Not with Tom, no. She refused to blame him for her failings.

She'd decided to go and see the house. She'd hoped they would go together. Now, she knew she would go alone. It was just too far, just too remote for Tom to realistically go. He needed to be 'on-grid' pretty much 24/7.  Carriacou was NOT that place.

She decided to go after the marathon. It was only fair to see that through at least. And it would give her time to tell him.  Tell him she probably wasn't coming back.

She virtually convulsed whenever she thought of it, but she knew it was the right thing to do - for Tom, for her.  She wanted something it seemed he couldn't give her. It wasn't fair to saddle him with her disappointment. She loved him too damn much.

So she made plans. She looked at flights, she looked at hotels for stopovers, and she corresponded with the solicitor.  Everything was eventually set up for the end of June. A month after the race.  Now all she had to do was tell him.

What she didn't know was that Tom knew already.  He wasn't a nosey person. He didn't normally rifle other people's emails - or letters. It had been a genuine mistake. He'd been sifting through letters in his office, automatically opening and setting aside to deal with later.  He realised as he read the opening lines of a handwritten letter, that he'd made the worst - and possibly best - mistake of his adult life.

"Dear Molly
Thanks for getting in touch.  We'd be pleased to offer you a room with us for as long as you need it. The house has been shut up for quite some time and won't have power or water at the moment. We will meet you off the ferry, just give us your arrival date.  Will it still just be you, or will your friend be joining you after all?

Look forward to hearing from you,
Gus and Lesley Patrice"

The letter was postmarked Carriacou.

Tom's mind raced. She was going. She hadn't told him. Friend? Was that him? Was that all she told people he was? Was that what he'd made HER think that she was to him? Just a "good friend" , a "friend with benefits?"  It made him cry.

In that one three minute letter, his world came crashing in on him, and he knew he was to blame. The front door opened, and he could hear Molly and Bobby returning from the park, all paws and yelps and laughter.

"In here Molly," he called out as he stood. He had to admit he'd read it. He could hardly hide the fact the envelope was open, could he. 

Molly hung Bobby's lead on the end of the stairs and slipped her shoes off. She heard Tom's voice echo from the office and instantly knew there was something up.  There was an edge to it normally reserved for the most intrusive of photographers. Reserved yet polite. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

She walked into the office to find Tom sitting on the edge of his desk, a letter in his hand, tears on his face.

Without a word, he handed it to her. She scanned it, and her heart plummeted into her boots.  Shit.

"You opened it." She said simply. No accusation, no anger, just a statement of fact.

"Yes, it was a mistake. I'm sorry."

"For opening it? Don't be. It was probably for the best. "

"No, sorry for letting you down." The tears fell faster now. Molly joined him by the desk. Her own lip beginning to tremble.

"You didn't. I let myself down. Now I've saddled you with my own expectations and my own disappointment. It was never - will never be - your fault, Tom. But we can't live like this. I can't live like this. Not forever. Maybe Carriacou is just what we need." She gently set the paper down on the desk, then took his hand and kissed it.

"Never doubt I would give my life for you, Tom. Never doubt I love you more than anyone or anything in the world.  You know, that stars thing." She smiled weakly, "but love sometimes means letting go.  I want you to be happy, Tom, but with me? I'm not so sure."  She paused and sniffed hard, trying not to join him in floods of tears.

"Darling, please, I know I've fucked up. I know I - I let you think things were heading in one direction then slapped you back.  But Molly, believe me when I say I really DO want them to go there. I was stupid and naive and a coward.  I love you, Molly. I love you with a passion and a depth I have never felt for anyone in my entire life.  Your breath is my breath. Your life is my life. If you are no longer here, then neither am I. Without you, I cease to exist.  If I have to move to a remote island and live my days as a castaway to be with you, then so be it.  This, " he gestured around ," means nothing without you, and you are EVERYTHING to me."

Now he was standing, holding her hands, looking down at her with an intensity bordering on feverish. She felt herself melting into the pools of his eyes. She felt calm and peaceful. She felt loved. 

"Tom, there is nothing in my heart that is not yours. There is nothing in my head that does not include you. Yes, even Carriacou. I only wanted to let YOU live the life you needed to.  I only ever want you to be the best you there is." She smiled and pulled him closer. "Tom, you say you want to marry me?  Then yes, marry me and be my husband. Not today, not tomorrow, but when YOU want to. When YOU are ready to.  Now I know I can wait because I know there is something to wait for. I love you Tom, that's all there is to it."

Tom looked at her. He knew he was ready that very second. He would be ready with every breath. He would wait, though. He wanted to give her the single most wonderful moment of her life. Nothing would be too good for his little kitten.

Hugging her tightly, he whispered his love for her over and over as he pulled her into a deep kiss. Molly sank into his arms and sighed contentedly.

Tomorrow she would speak to Mr Laing.