Page 130 of Nineteen Letters
Her question has me grinning. I was hoping she’d ask. “You want to see it?”
“Please.”
The hopeful look on her face tugs at my heartstrings. As much as I hate what has become of us, reliving our past with her, and experiencing her reactions as she rediscovers everything for the first time, is priceless.
I unbuckle the watch from my wrist and pass it to her. She groans when she reads the inscription.‘You are the tic in my toc’.
“Oh god, that’s so cheesy. Did I actually write that crap?”
I have to stifle my laugh when her face turns bright red. “I think it’s sweet.”
“You do not. You’re just being polite. I’m surprised you even married me after that. I’m so lame.”
I bark out a laugh. “You’re far from lame. Every morning when I read it, it brings a smile to my face.”
“Probably one of humour.”
I chuckle as she passes the watch back to me, and I strap it to my wrist. “Not at all … I love being the tic in your toc.”
“Somebody kill me now,” she groans, throwing her head back and covering her face with her hands.
“Hey.” Reaching out, I uncover her pretty face. “If it’s any consolation, you’re the tic in my toc too. Always have been, and always will be,” I say with a wink, and I see the beginnings of a smile curve at her lips as she picks up her spoon.
“My father ended up staying over again last night,” she replies, changing the subject. “There’s no talk of him moving in yet, but I think it may be on the cards.”
“I hope so.”
“My mum has been practically floating around the house,” she adds, popping a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. What stands out for me in that sentence is she said,mum, not Christine. “I’ve never seen her so happy.”
“Love will do that to you.”
It’s around midday when I fold the piece of paper and place it in the envelope. I’m still in two minds about what I’ve included in the latter part of this letter, but in my heart, I think it’ssomething Jem would want to know. It was a terrible time for us both, but also a poignant moment in our relationship. I only hope that this memory doesn’t devastate her like it did in the past.
I add the small jewellery box and the tiny ring charm, and then carefully slide the image in alongside the letter.
Letter seventeen…
Dearest Jemma,
The sixth of July 2012. It was a Friday, and we’d both come home for the weekend. I kissed you goodbye in the driveway, as you headed inside to see your parents, and I went to my place to see my dad.
“I’m home, Pop!” I called out, walking through the front door.
A few seconds later, he came down the stairs and pulled me into a hug. “It’s good to see you, son. I wasn’t expecting you this weekend.”
“Jem and I thought we’d surprise you guys. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too. Come on, let me put the kettle on.”
“How have you been?” I asked as I sat at the kitchen table.
“I’m good. Really good. How’s school?”
“Great. I can’t believe I only have a few more months before I graduate.”
“Have you given any thought to where you want to work?”
“I’ve put in a few job applications already.”
