Forked Roads Back

72 - TESSA

DESPITE SAYING TO ARCHIE I was going to sleep, there was no way sleep would ever come to me now. I had never expected him to actually respond... but once he had, I felt like flood gates had been flung open.

Maybe I should never have mentioned the heavy stuff, but part of me is glad he didn't try to explain himself. I liked that he was telling me about his trip, texting like we used to when he was on holiday. Sure it made me miss the past, but the fact I had a tiny part of him back made all the difference.

We texted for hours, just about anything, and when we finally did say good night, I felt lighter than I had done in years. However that lightness is going to be completely overshadowed by the fact I have to talk to a Jamie today.

Looking at the clock, it's nearly half eight. Jamie will probably be working downstairs, and that means I didn't want to go down there. After what he said, even if he did say it subconsciously, I don't think I can wholly forgive him for it. After the hard time he gave me for saying 'Archie' in my sleep once, and he goes and does that? To be saying that in your sleep, you must have been thinking it... It means he's been thinking about it before, and that hurts. It really, really hurts.

But then that's just it: he said it unconsciously so how could I possibly hold that against him? Part of me says I shouldn't, but then a larger part of me - the part of me holding a massive red flag - is telling me I should. Now that I have heard it, I can't unhear it... and it makes me sick to my stomach to think about it. Jamie is my new start, and if he's willing to give up so easily, give me up so easily... I don't think I would ever recover from that.

I groan and pull the duvet up over my head, despite the heat. I pretend I'm in a safe space, a cloud, where the last twelve hours didn't happen. But when I pull my head back out from under it, I know it's time to face the music.

***

WHEN I COME BACK to my room, I flinch as I spot Jamie sitting at my desk. He has his glasses on, his hair is in total disarray, and he's flicking quickly through a booklet of papers which look like accounts. He looks like crap, but the anger softens as I try to remember he's my person that looks like crap, and despite what he said, I still love him.

I take a step towards him and the floorboard creaks. He turns, the worry instantly falling away from his expression as he sees me.

"Hey, there you are."

I try to put on my best smile as he walks over to me, putting his hands on my waist, leaning down to drop a kiss on my shoulder. He smells like stale beer, and I'm glad he decided not to kiss my mouth.

"You okay?" He asks, dropping his head to meet my eyes.

When drop my head further, he picks me up, holding me under my bum. Instinctively I wrap my legs around his waist and rest my forearms in his shoulders, not being able to help the small smile on my face. He starts to move, spinning slowly in a circle as if we're dancing, his nose now only a few centimetres from mine.

We used to do this all the time. We used to barely spend any time apart, and now we barely see each other. It makes me sad.

We used to link each other's fingers, or I'd have my hand in Jamie's pocket. We used to sleep with our feet entangled. He used to kiss me every time I walked past him at work, and he used to send a good night or good morning message.

Now that's all changed. Now, we sleep on opposite sides of the bed. Now he doesn't text me good morning or good night. And now that I'm thinking about it, he hasn't kissed me the way he used to for months. Ever since he's started his job.

"Are you okay?" He asks again.

"You..." I go to tell him about what he said, but then I change my mind. "You were snoring really badly." I give him a sheepish smile and a shrug. "Worse than usual," I add.