Second Chances

Chapter Thirteen

We spend the rest of the afternoon with Tanya and we see that she's making progress all the time.  She's awake for most of the afternoon and although still in pain, it's greatly reduced.  Relief is present on everyone's face and the mood is much brighter in the room.  We even manage to have a few jokes with each other and I'm glad to see that Paul joins in.  Tanya even makes a conscious effort to talk to him, something which I'm incredibly grateful for.

Eventually we're asked to leave and I kiss Tanya goodbye, telling her that I love her.  She tells me that she loves me too and that I should have 'a chat' tonight.  I know what she's implying.  She wants me to talk to Paul.  Part of me wants to but I'm scared beyond belief.  I don't think I could handle him rejecting me right now, not on top of everything else.  Maybe it's best just to pretend it didn't happen and forget about it.  It seems to have worked for the non-kiss at the lake.

Mum, Dad, Grant, Paul and myself eat dinner together at a restaurant near to our hotel that evening and the atmosphere continues to be relaxed with everyone laughing and joking like the old times.  The old times...when Tanya and Grant were newly-engaged and Paul and I were still together.  Everything was so much simpler back then.

So much has changed though and I have to keep reminding myself that it's all different now.  It's especially hard when the waiter assumes we're a couple and asks Paul what "his lovely lady" would like to drink.  I can see that my Mum is desperate for some kind of slip up so she can find out the truth from Paul but the last thing I want is the embarrassing "she's not my girlfriend" conversation so I speak up quickly.
"I'll have a white wine spritzer please," I answer awkwardly while the waiter - a small Italian man in his mid-60s - writes it on his pad.
"If you don't mind me saying sir," he adds, turning to Paul.  "You've got a beautiful lady there...well done!"  He pats him on his back and the table falls silent, no one knowing quite what to say.  I smile awkwardly at the old man and fortunately he leaves soon after.  Clearly he has no idea who we are or about our past.

As conversation returns to a safer topic, I chance a look at Paul and our eyes lock onto each other.  In those few seconds, I realise that he knows.  He knows I could be his 'lovely lady'.  He knows that I want to be.

There's no point denying it anymore.

Despite everything that's happened over the past few years, I've always been his.

---

The evening continues nicely but I'm conscious that soon Paul and I will be walking into our hotel room again.  The scene of the crime so to speak.  My nerves play a part in my growing silence as the evening progresses, something which I know everyone picks up on.  They know not to ask me about it though and to be honest, I think they know what's bothering me anyway.

We leave the restaurant and go our separate ways.  While Grant and my parents have to drive home, our hotel is only a mile away and seeing as it's a warm we decide to take a walk rather than hailing a taxi.  We walk in silence for the most part, although we do comment on Tanya's improvement and the tour when it feels like it's becoming strained.  In an ideal world, now probably would be a good time to talk about last night but I can't face the consequences of it yet and Paul clearly wants to pretend it never happened.

After a short walk, we arrive back at our hotel and meander through the corridor until we reach our room.
"Do you want a drink?" I ask as I start to make myself a cup of tea.
"Umm...yeah, a coffee would be good thanks."  Coffee?!  At this time?!  Paul sits on the sofa, taking off his shoes and lying lengthways along it.  It's a surprisingly long sofa actually - at least a 3-seater plus there's also an armchair across from it.  While I wait for the kettle to boil, I idly wonder how much it must be costing our management per night.  The sound of a late night baseball match brings me out of my thoughts.  It's one of the sports that I've never really understood and one of the only ones that wasn't on in the flat that Paul and I shared.  However tonight he seems to be getting into it and I can't help but wonder if it's for show.  Does he really want to watch the baseball, or is it just a way that he can avoid talking to me?

Deciding that I don't really want to deal with the answer to that question, I take my tea over to the bed and head to change in the bathroom.  It's only when I'm woken in the middle of the night by Paul collecting his pillows and a blanket that I realise that it was for the second reason.  Things may have been nice between us at dinner but the gulf that exists now reminds me just how much has changed over the past 9 years.