Conversations In the Storm

Chapter Eleven - Three Days And A Truly New Start

It had been only three days since the morning Caroline had last seen Nick.

Not that he hadn't called. He had left several messages and texts for her until she had finally switched the phone off altogether.

She looked around the room, sighed and stretched, Surrounding her living room was a collection of cardboard boxes she had collected from the local supermarket and over the last two days the boxes had gradually been getting filled.

That final talk with Adrian had been the ultimate shove. Now she was even more determined to follow through and start anew. So after returning to her home, wistfully noting that Nick was no longer parked in her driveway, she had instantly logged onto the internet and started looking for apartments to rent. She had been almost possessed with her search, so much so that it had barely registered when Skye had come over later that day to check on her.

Caroline hadn't been able to talk with her about her conversations in the storm with Nick, nor what had happened with Adrian afterwards. She knew that her friend would have supported her if she had spilled her side of the story. Skye was like a tigress, she had strength that Caroline had learned from over the years, ever since they had met in college, and she protected those close to her as fiercely as she could. But she wasn't ready for her to verbally abuse a man that she loved as dearly as herself. She needed time before she could express her sorrow at having turned away her chance to have the family that she wanted. She certainly couldn't cope with telling her what Adrian had admitted to her. Skye had to work beside Adrian every day, and Caroline knew how badly she wanted to keep that job. She couldn't compromise it by allowing her to react emotionally over her friend. So she had dodged her questions about Nick, she had failed to even mention her brother, and she had simply continued to search the property website.

Next she had contacted a real estate agent and started the process to get her own house listed. Although a small distance from the city, it was nicely situated in a suburban area, and she was sure to get plenty of interest. She loved this house, but at least she would only be renting it out. One day she would return.

Her job had been a problem, but after tough negotiations with her manager this morning, a temporary transfer to a currently vacant position had been worked out which allowed her to partly work from home, and also contracted her out to work at client offices. It seemed juvenile, but she needed a fresh start. If she was easily found, then she knew she would end up doing or saying something she would later regret.

Skye had not approved. Caroline could see it in her eyes, to her it probably seemed like she was simply wallowing. But in her true way, after a few initial heated arguments Skye had dropped the point and asked what she could do to help. She had been helping with packing over the weekend and they had driven around together looking at less than desirable apartments which were far too expensive. Eventually they had come up with a suitable solution, and hopefully her agent would be able to get a good rental return on this place. She had called a removalist and booked two men and a truck for next week. She would organize a cleaner to come the next day, and before she knew it she would have successfully moved on, at least physically.

When she was moved and settled, she would send an email to him to let him know that she was alright, and that she needed to move on. She would hope for his understanding, and she hoped that one day he would find his own happiness.

She hunted for a marker and began writing titles on the boxes that had already been packed. She hadn't even started with her clothes yet, that would be a task for tomorrow.

Pillows. Cookbooks. DVDs. Crockery and Cutlery. Linen. Towels.

Towels. Her pink towel, damn, he still had it.

Oh, who was she kidding? It didn't matter. She never used it anyway. And for what it was, a reminder of a birthday where she had opened a large box in excitement and felt her heart completely sink within the next instant, maybe it was best. He could throw it out if he wanted. She was well rid of it.

By evening, her entire body was aching, and she settled in the bathtub with a glass of leftover Riesling from when she had shared the bottle with Nick and the dulcet tones of The Cinematic Orchestra.

It was a childish solution, this idea of hers of running away. She had always prided herself on her maturity, and she had never before reacted this way to a problem. In fact, it was what she had berated her own family over for all these years; she was a person who preferred to deal with issues rather than shut the world out. She was twenty-seven, and she was supposed to be able to no longer let the small things defeat her. She was supposed to be resilient. Hell, she'd been fun once. She and her small circle of friends had enjoyed themselves, enjoyed life. Sure, there had been parts of her which had always been fragile, but that was no different to anybody else. And she had allowed Nick to break her. The person she'd been over the last two months was not the person she wanted to be.

She hoped beyond hope that Nick would take it the right way. She wasn't trying to cause him pain, or to pay him back in any way. She knew that was how it would seem to him, after all she had responded with too much emotion at their last confrontation. It wasn't what she wanted. She wasn't someone who would ever wish pain on someone that she loved. All she wanted was to have a fresh start, and she had to let him go to do it. The temptation to run back to him and count on him to fix her was too great, and it wouldn't do either of them any good.

The part of the story which confounded her the most was her brother. Adrian had come to her. He had actually approached her, something which he had not done for years. Should she have grabbed the opportunity, the first overture he'd ever made to her, accepted his apology and worked to create the relationship she had always wanted? Should she have taken into account what she had learned from Nick about the personal struggles he had faced? If he truly thought himself responsible for Summer, if he had honestly wanted to end his life, it hinted at much deeper issues, and she could have been the one to make him open up. She could have pushed her own feelings aside and the unnecessary way he had found to manage his shame, and she could have put his needs first.

Perhaps a bigger person would have been able to do that. But a niggling part of her, the part deep inside which she rarely let out to play was telling her that she would not be doing it for herself. She would be doing it for the idea of allowing someone else to get what they wanted or needed. And that same selfish side was insisting that after twenty years of ostracizing her, he did not deserve to apologise once and get forgiveness. No. If he was sorry, truly sorry, then he would be able to wait until she was ready to accept it. Not out of punishment, not out of simple petty-mindedness, but because for once, her own needs would take precedence.

She propped her feet on the edge of the bathtub and leaned her head back.

A new start. A truly new start. How many people got the chance to start completely fresh? It was going to be good for her. No more sitting and feeling sorry for herself. No more inward contemplation that she was to blame. She would return to being the woman she had been a year ago, before Nick, before loving him. But it would be even better than that. All the baggage she had been carting around with her would finally be let loose, and she would grab every opportunity that presented itself. She would stop rolling her eyes at the thought of therapy, and once and for all she would let go of this storm phobia and all that it represented.

Forcing a smile, she closed her eyes and breathed in the fruity scent of the bath oil. With a sigh, she determinedly repeated her new resolve back to herself. Perhaps if she thought it enough times, one day soon it would become firm truth.