Ever Since New York [H.S]

Wherever I Go, You Bring Me Home

The twins are now 14 months old, both having spoken their first word months ago, about three weeks before they turned a year old. Alexander’s first word had been “Mama”, whilst Darcy's first word was “Dada”. Their development was progressing smoothly, with both Alexander and Darcy reaching new milestones each day. Both managed to grasp hold of small items now, like cutlery or their toothbrush; not that either one had mastered such things, of course, but they made progress each day. Between them, they also spoke a select few other words: “yes,” “no,” “hi,” “bye,” “go,” “stop” and “Gran,” to name a few. They hadn’t quite worked out how to say ‘Aunty’ or ‘Gemma’, yet, so they referred to Gemma as “Gee”, and Gemma had taken such a liking to it that Harry and I had started using it too. Darcy took her first step at nine months, with Alexander following behind and taking his first step two weeks later. They’re both at the stage now where they've learnt how to walk well. Somehow, I had formed a habit of thinking deeply about the twins whenever they were in the care of Anne and Gemma. I trust the two with all my heart and knew that neither would allow the twins to end up hurt. The peace and quiet was something that felt new to me - something I hadn't felt in a long time; though, I wasn't complaining. I love Alexander and Darcy more than anything. I would never change them for the world.

Lost in my thoughts, I let out a low huff as the sound of my phone vibrating on the bedside table brought me back to reality. The flashing light indicated that I had an unread text. I pushed myself up out of the seat at my dressing table where I had been in the process of getting ready and strolled across to the bedside table to retrieve my phone. I unlocked it quickly, taking notice of the unknown number. The text message had come from a contact that I had not had saved within my phone. I read over the small message and was left confused by the words: 'Hey, beautiful. Wanna go out sometime?'

This appeared unusual to me, and I couldn't pinpoint who would write such thing, especially given Harry and I changed our phone numbers each time we had encountered Patrick out and about within the community. Harry caught a glance of him at the grocery store three days ago and insisted on changing our numbers. I decided on replying to the unknown number, only so they would back off. I typed out my response then pressed send, glancing over the text I had written: 'I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend.'

Satisfied with my statement, I locked my phone then went to set it down on my bedside table. I turned my back just as my phone vibrated and the screen lit up again. Glancing over my shoulder, my eyes landed on the text that flashed across the screen: 'That's cool, but, I thought you might need a husband. Here's my number.'

I chose to ignore the message, pushing the thought aside, to worry about after my date with Harry. I would discuss the matter with him tonight after our date. I wanted to be able to spend a night alone; just he and I, not worrying about anything else besides the two of us. We hadn't spent time together, alone, for quite some time and I was really looking forward to that. It wasn't until I sat back down on the small stool at the white dressing table, with trifold mirrors, that my eyes glanced over my shoulder and landed on the clock. 5:49pm. Harry was due home any minute, and it was only now that I found myself being thankful for the fact that I only had my hair left to worry about. Thanks to the gift I’d received from Anne on my birthday the year I’d met Harry, I’d recently had my hair cut and coloured, so all I had to do was style it now. The six months’ worth of appointments with Elaine that Anne had arranged as part of my present that year had been used by now, of course; but when Elaine realised I knew Anne and was dating Harry, she was only too happy to arrange six-weekly appointments for me for the foreseeable future. I’d pulled on a simple wine-coloured ruched dress that fell to just above my knee and paired it with a pair of black ankle boots with a wedged heel. I planned to finish my outfit with the charcoal coat Harry had given me for my birthday the first year he’d been part of my life and taught me that birthdays were worth celebrating and should be enjoyed. It was neatly folded at the end of our shared bed, and the necklace he’d given me that year still hung from my neck. I swept my hair into a bun and as I was sliding the last bobby-pin into place, I heard Harry letting himself in. Spinee greeted him at the door as usual, and I smiled as I reached for my favourite bottle of perfume, knowing it was Harry’s favourite on me too, frowning when I realised the bottle was almost empty.