Forked Roads Back

69 - TESSA

AS THE WEEKS GO by, and as New York draws closer, I realise delaying telling Jamie about me going was no longer an option.

After our argument, something had changed. I wasn't sure whether it was him or me, but something between us was different. Most days it was good to be different, but some days, it felt like a bad different.

The last few weeks, I feel like he's been coming home later and later from work, with a couple of nights of failing to come home at all. I know he's really busy at work, but his not being here only seemed to make my decision to talk to Archie even more clear.

Ringing him wasn't necessarily the best idea I've ever had, but I think if I hadn't, I never would have known what was going on in Jamie's head... and maybe in my own.

For him, it showed just how insecure Jamie still is, and for me it's showed me the truth... that I haven't wanted to admit to anyone.

That I still love him. I still love Archie.

The only question I had for myself - which only going to see him in New York would answer - was how dominant that love was? Or whether it was just that love people always have when it comes to their first loves.

But I love Jamie too. That I was really certain of, and the love I feel for him is stronger because of what we've been through together. I love him more than anything, and I have enough faith in myself to know that me seeing Archie won't do anything to jeopardise that. I just hope he understands that.

With Jamie working late, these questions have been bugging me more and more, and as I sit up and wait for him to come, again, I've decided now is the time. I don't want to wait.

Looking at my watch, it's about seven, so I'd hoped he would be home soon, but as I stand to head downstairs to help Dad with dinner, a message comes through which makes my heart sink.

We've finished, but I'm just having a drink with the boys. Be home soon. I love you xx

That didn't mean he'd be home soon. It meant he would probably be rolling in around midnight, waking me up to tell me about my day. As proud as I am of him, that was fast losing its charm.

Leaving my phone up here, I put my slippers on and head down the stairs, towards the smell of Dad's tacos.

"Hey kiddo!" Dad shouts over the sizzling of the pan. He coughs a couple of times, his cough a little bit worse than it was last week.

"Hey Dad. It smells really good in here," I tell him, trying to hide my concerned expression.

Dad had been getting worse over the last few weeks. It started as a dry cough a few months ago, but now it was in his chest. He sometimes has coughing fits that last minutes, and you can see he's exhausted after they finish. He's smiling less, because he's worried and his skin no longer has colour, and he looks... grey. Despite having a check up, where he came up all clear, I knew something was wrong and so did he.

"We haven't had tacos for a while, not since Millie left, so I thought I would make them." He stirs the mince around. "Plus we can make it hot because Greg isn't here," he jokes.

"Very good shout," I smile as I take a handful of crisps from the bowl on the table. Watching him get overtaken by another fit of coughing, I help him to the table and take the spatula from him. "Dad, you sit, I'll do the tacos."

He doesn't fight me, sitting down with a relieved sigh. I pour him a glass of water and hand it to him, which he takes and sips carefully. As he holds it, his hands are shaking, but he smiles as he sits back, watching as I stir the mince.

"What time is Jamie due back?" He asks and I turn and give him a look. "Uh-oh."

"He's gone for a drink with the boys." I put the 'a' in air quotes because it is never one drink with Jamie. It's never one drink with anyone.