Banana Girl: a thatcherjoe love story

Chapter 18- leaning up against a goal post

"...What?!" I said hoarsely, after what felt like hours of silence, but probably wasn't. My mouth was dry and my head was swimming.
"What?! No! I mean, Joe, I'm 20! I still have loads of my life and..."
He looked at the floor. That was obviously not the answer he wanted.
"Right. Okay. Good to know that's not what you want, then, Violet. Good to know that's where you're at." He was angry. He spoke very quietly, but very clearly, looking me right in the eye. Then he walked out. I got up, walking after him, but I knew. I knew that once his mind was set, it couldn't be undone. I couldn't catch up to him, so as I hurried the room and out through the front door, into the street and onto the pavement, I shouted, "Joe, wait! Joe, don't just walk out! Joe!" I hoped he'd hear me, but I was pretty certain he didn't.

--------------------------

I texted Zoe,
Help me, please! Joes missing! I snapped at him and he cracked and im worried and hes been gone for an hour and ive looked everywhere for him and i love him i dont know where else he could be! PLEASE.HELP. ME. ZOE.     😖😱😭

She texted me back in 30 seconds and met me at our flat, where I was waiting, fiddling with my anniversary bracelet and thinking about Joe. My eyes were itching and my throat still felt dry and hoarse. We began searching as soon as she arrived.
We phoned his mobile, we phoned everyone he knew, but no-one had heard a thing. Nothing. It was like he was gone altogether. 

------------------------------

We'd been looking for 5 hours when I really started panicking. I mean, I'd been worried, sure I'd been worried, but not panicked as such, not until now. We'd really ran out of options.
What if something horrible had happened?
What if he met someone else?
What if when we found him, it was too late?
What if he didn't want to be found?
What if he was looking for me but couldn't find me because I kept moving around?
What if...

-----------------------------

We didn't find him for another 2 hours; I was almost losing it.
What if he'd done something really stupid?
I walked to the park, the only other place he could be that I hadn't already looked.
I looked to the left of the memorial, under the bushes, in the ditch... And then I saw a figure sat by the makeshift football pitch.
He was sat on the ground in the park, leaning up against a goal post, pulling grass out of the dirt underneath him when I found him.
There was a huge patch of grass-less soil around him.
"Joe!" I screamed, running up to him, a tear finally leaving my dry eyes and rolling down my cheek.
"Vi-" he said croakily, but I interrupted him.
"I'm so so so so sorry, Joe! I would never try and hurt you! I love you! So much!"
He had a tear down his cheek, too.
"I'm sorry." He said it softly and quietly, but I knew he meant it.
We were both sat on the floor.
Neither of us wanted to move.

It was the sort of moment that, in a film, would make me want to vomit: lovey-dovey scenes where a couple couldn't be any happier, so they have a sensual, close embrace and all is right with the world at last, and the birds are chirping and there's a rainbow and eternal peace, and Happily Ever After, blah, blah, blah. But when it was in real life, without the birds, the rainbow and eternal peace, it seemed... real. Raw, and messy and f*cked up, but real.