[[[the wonderful mess that we've made]]] [[[part iii]]]

43.

He left after a couple of days to get himself organized for his six week trip to America. He'd be back in the morning before his flight to say goodbye. I didn't want to think about how I'd feel when he was gone. But I already felt lost without him. Like I'd lost a limb. It had been over two weeks of spending almost every waking (and sleeping) hour together. To busy myself, I decided to go through all the mail that had been delivered during my months away. I sat down with the pile on the sofa and I flicked through bills, postcards, junk and a large brown envelope I recognized. I checked the date stamp. Some six weeks ago. He'd signed the papers before our trip to Budapest. Before the accident. He had given up on us.

I needed to speak to him, and not over the phone.

I got myself dressed into actual clothes, pulling jeans carefully up my leg and somehow managing to put my shoes on.

I rang for a taxi and headed straight out to meet it. Of course, the lift decided not to work, so I took the stairs slowly.

I arrived outside the place I'd once called home ten minutes later, pressed the buzzer to his apartment and waited a moment.

'Hello?' I heard his voice say through the intercom.

'Hey. Can I come up?'

'Lily, what are you doing out?' He pressed the button to let me in. I took the lift to the tenth floor, grateful that at least his lift worked.

He opened the door and I handed him the brown envelope before he could get a word in.

'Whats this?' He laughed.

'Divorce papers.'

'Oh I already signed them.' He looked crestfallen.

'I know.' I tore the envelope in half dramatically. He watched me with an amused smile on his face. 'I think we should be together, like, together.' Even though we essentially were together, I needed it said out loud. I needed a spoken agreement.

'Really? Are you sure that's what you want?'

'Well...yeah. If you do too, I mean, I know you've helped me so much these last few weeks and don't feel obliged to just go along with the sick, drugged up girl, cos you've already done far too much for me and-' He interrupted me with a strong kiss, temporarily knocking my train of thought back.

'Yes.' He said.

'Yes?'

'That is exactly what I want. When I couldn't find you in all the mess, I thought I'd lost you, and I would never have forgiven myself for letting you go, for not keeping you safe, for not telling you every single day that I love you. And I don't want to spend a second away from you. Since the first time I saw you, I knew I wanted to be with you. And I know I've been a fucking idiot and I will never be able to make up for what I've done. But I'd like to spend the rest of my life trying.'

'You've already made up for it a million times over. And I love you too.'

'Good.' He laughed. We stood awkwardly in front of each other. My leg was throbbing from my journey down the stairs and standing up too long. And like he'd read my mind, he scooped me up, my crutches dropping to the ground with a clatter, and carried me inside. He put me on the sofa and sat beside me. I swung my legs around so they were over his lap. He took off my shoes and threw them across the room. 'Now you can never leave.'

'I don't want to.' I whispered. 'But you have to go in the morning.' We put our foreheads together so all we could see was each other's eyes

'I'll cancel it. They'll understand.'

'Don't do that.' I sighed.

'I'll fire Dick. Then you can by my tour manager.'

'Don't do that either. I'm signed off work for six months, remember?'

'We'll run away.'

'Dan.' I giggled. But truly, what were we going to do? After a couple of minutes of thinking, thinking how on earth was this going to work, Dan spoke first.

'Come with me. Come on the road with me. Not as my tour manager, but as my wife.'

'Dan, I don't know...' I wasn't even sure why I didn't know. Was it because that's all I would be? Just his wife? Like I was his property and my whole life only added up to him? Which of course, was amazing. I was incredibly lucky to have this beautifully talented man as my husband. But I was once Stevens property, a toy to be played with, a trophy to show off. And that's all I had been. I hadn't had my own life, my own money, I had nothing. He could read my mind.