My life feels like I’m in a DVD permanently stuck replaying that same awkward scene. For some reason, I keep repeating the same mistakes over and over again. I don’t seem to learn. And being with Joel last night was one big fat mistake.
I look over to where Joel lays beside me in the kingsized bed, a sheet draped over his perfectly sculpted body and I wonder what I’ve done to feel this way. It’s four in the morning. I’ve just finished feeding the baby and I’m back here because I feel too guilty to leave and sleep in my own bed, the one I shared with Nicholas until a little over a month ago. Joel is sleeping soundly, a slight smile curving his face. I should be ecstatic but all I can think is that this is a replay of that night in the lighthouse. Being with Joel and Nicholas was a mistake then and sleeping with Joel last night was the biggest mistake ever.
I feel like shit.
I am an awful, horrid excuse for a human being. I should not be doing this to Joel.
Last night, I let him make love to me. Yes, I enjoyed it, I came like three freaking times so there’s no denying that, but whenever I closed my eyes Nicholas was there. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not because Joel wasn’t totally awesome, he was. Joel was so awesome I began to picture Nicholas watching us have sex; me sucking Joel; Joel licking my body from top to bottom. I could see the look on Nicholas’ face and I feel as if I’ve disappointed him somehow because I gave in so soon after he’d gone. Yes, I know he wanted me to and he’d never be jealous, he never was. But I feel like I’ve betrayed him. It was too soon and it can’t go on.
Quietly, I slip from the bed and tiptoe from Joel’s room into my room. It’s a cowardly thing to do but I need time, I need to be alone with my baby to make sense of what’s happening. I need time to grieve the loss of a man I loved alone. I dress quickly and shove clothes and toiletries into a bag. I don’t take a lot of time to consider what I pack, I’m so concerned with being free. Besides, the Internet is a wonderful thing, I can buy new stuff. Everything I need can be delivered to my door. I can do what Joel did and disappear into thin air if that’s what I choose. I have the resources now.
In the baby’s room, I bustle quietly. Nicky needs more than me and it takes me some time to organise everything, especially when my eyes are constantly trained on the open door, listening for Joel to stir. At last, I have the baby ready, so I ring a taxi and carry my things to the door. While the driver is attempting to squash the pram into the boot of the car — it’s enormous even when collapsed — I leave Joel a note. I tell him I love him but I need time. I tell him I’m sorry, so very sorry.
By seven I’ve reached the cottage. The driver helps me to unload and I stand for a minute after he’s left, cradling Nicky in my arms and watching the early morning waves lapping onto the sand. This is where it began. Down there on the beach I see the very spot where I met Nicholas, just to the left of the bench. I can see him sitting there on the sand, his forearms resting on his knees, my red sunhat loosely held in his hand. He’s looking at me and he’s smiling. The vision is so real, so full of life I almost believe it’s him; that he’s going to get up and walk into the cottage. He’s going to take me in his arms and tell me he loves me; that he’s sorry for staying away for so long.
But that won’t happen.
The apparition isn’t real, a ghost maybe but not something I can ever touch. This is not a rerun of Ghost.
Wiping a wayward tear that’s slipped down my cheek away, I head for the bedroom. The bed isn’t made but I couldn’t care less. I turn my phone off and snuggle under the covers with Nicky. I intend to sleep for a very long time. In sleep, everything is how it should be.