Your Mark on Me

Chapter 33: London

When I woke up, Mark had breakfast ready, together with the news that he had already spoken to Mom while I was asleep. Apparently, it had been a long, draining conversation, but he won the match.

"I knew I could convince her," he told me. She's not stubborn, strong-headed like you. There's not much that she could have done now anyway, but her cooperation will make our life much easier, with all the paperwork we'll need to get you settled in."

We had breakfast together at the dining table overlooking the London skyline. Just like I thought, there was a lot of light coming in and the view was beautiful. Now that I'd slept I was feeling much better; somehow, everything that seemed bleak and scary the previous day, now looked bright and promising.

Apparently, Mom wanted to hear my voice, and Mark had promised I'd call her in the morning, so after breakfast, I did.

She sounded incredibly sad on the phone.

"Will you really be happy there... with that man?"

"I think so", I answered. "I love him. Very, very much."

Mom sighed. "I'm sorry I drove you away. I should've listened more... I shouldn't have left you..." Her voice cracked, and there was a pause. "When... are you coming back?"

"I don't know."

There was another pause, longer this time. When she spoke again, her voice was even feebler.

"If you're not happy there, just come home. I'll be here for you. I won't go anywhere, ever again. I love you, baby."

"I love you too, Mom."

I didn't know if she heard it. She hung up before I could tell she was crying.

***

We spent the first part of the day seeing the obvious, touristy attractions of London — the likes of Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, or Trafalgar Square. Around lunchtime, I got tired of all the walking and it started drizzling, so we had a quick lunch then went to the theater just in time to catch a two o'clock matineè.

I was enjoying everything, but the bubble of anxiety in my chest was still there. I couldn't quite explain the cause of it, and it didn't help that I had avoided being too close to Mark the whole day. We hadn't kissed at all since the previous evening or acted like lovers. I think we were both still trying to get accustomed to the new status of our relationship and we both worried, for various reasons of which neither of us was talking.

Later on, when we were sitting in the restaurant waiting for dinner, Mark took my hand in his and held it, stroking it with his thumb for what seemed a long time.

"Do you regret coming here, little one?"

I stared at him wide-eyed, and he took in a deep breath before continuing. "What you did was a big thing, I can only imagine how scary all this must be for you. Frankly, I'm a bit scared too, but I promised I'll do my best to make this work, and I will. But right now, I need to make sure that one thing is clear: I'm not forcing you to do anything, okay? If you want to go back, all you need to do is just say. Don't think you'll bother me, or feel embarrassed, or guilty, or anything silly like that. Of course, I'd prefer it if you chose to stay with me, but eventually, I want you to be happy and comfortable, whatever that means."

By the time Mark finished the last sentence, my eyes were in tears. His little speech had an unexpectedly beneficial effect on me: I was now able to understand the source of my anxiety: I was feeling trapped. But now, he was reminding me that I had a choice. And that reminder was enough to relieve the pressure and to make me realise that what I truly wanted was, indeed, to be there.