Page 37 of For One Moment With You
‘You’re both young,’ she said quietly. ‘My advice is to iron it out now if it’s important to you. But I wouldn’t worry too much – everyone wants children eventually!’
I’d taken some consolation from her words, but this close to my wedding, I knew I’d worried her. Yes, Gareth and I could live together relatively easily – we’d already proved that. I thought of my mother’s comment again, about everyone wanting children. But I was slightly uneasy. I wanted to believe her – my mum was right about a lot of things, but on the subject of children, I wasn’t so sure.
* * *
That evening I went for an evening walk in the park. It felt like a risk because I might bump into Adam. And I couldn’t lie to myself – I wanted to see him, just as I wanted to cling onto the dream of what might have been, of a future I could imagine opening up, had aSliding Doorsmoment actually materialised for us.
But fate had other plans that day. Just as I thought I caught a glimpse of the back of Adam’s head, my mobile buzzed in my pocket.
It was Gareth. ‘Hey! When will you be home? I thought we could drive out to the river and go to the pub.’
‘Sounds lovely. I won’t be long.’ It was a long time since he’d suggested anything like this. Romantic even – though I happened to know he particularly like the beer they served there.
‘Great!’ He sounded pleased. ‘See you in a bit, then.’
Standing there, I ended the call and put my phone in my pocket, then glanced in the direction of where I thought I’d seen Adam. But in the time I’d been speaking to Gareth, if it was him, he’d gone.
Going home, I brushed my hair and put on some lipstick, then Gareth drove us to the pub. Sitting outside, I watched the little families of waterfowl as he went to order us drinks, then came back with a menu. Passing it to me, he added slightly selfishly, ‘Wouldn’t mind driving, would you? It would be nice to have more than a pint.’
I could have said,It would be nice to have more than one glass of wine.And of course, I didn’t want to spoil the mood between us – but it took the edge off what was otherwise a lovely evening, the kind of evening that once, I would have dreamed of spending with someone special, sitting in the sun overlooking the water, eating delicious food. If I was quieter than usual, Gareth didn’t notice. Tucking into his steak and chips, he didn’t notice either that I only ate a little of my salad. Instead, as I sat there, I was thinking about how we didn’t talk. Not about anything important – other than the conversation about having children, which to my mind remained unresolved, while Gareth was acting as if we’d never had it.
It left me feeling trapped. If I brought up the subject again, I knew what Gareth’s reaction would be, that he’d fling it back at me for mentioning it when I already knew how he felt. The only alternative was to say nothing – and that’s what I chose. Yes, I was my mother’s daughter, already walking on eggshells. The alternative, this close to our wedding, meant all hell would have broken loose.
After we’d finished eating, Gareth got up. ‘How about we take a walk? It’s a beautiful evening.’
I was taken by surprise. It was so unlike Gareth. Berating myself for misjudging him, I felt myself smile. ‘Good idea.’
We set off along the footpath that was edged by long grasses. I felt Gareth’s hand brush against mine, before he took it in his. It seems stupid to say it, but I felt fleeting, stabbing hope that despite my misgivings, we would have a long and happy future together. That in his own, unemotional way, Gareth cared.
A family of swans came into view and we stopped to watch them glide past us on water that sparkled in the evening sunlight.
‘We should come here more often,’ Gareth said softly. Then turning, he took my face in both his hands and kissed me. Closing my eyes, in what should have been a magical moment, I kissed him back, searching for the faintest glimmer of how I used to feel.
* * *
Wasn’t it obvious enough? Weren’t there enough signs? And the answer is well, yes, to all those questions. But it wasn’t that simple. I knew that relationships changed. That the early, giddy days of love gave way to something more enduring. And Gareth and I had stood the test of time. That we were together after so long was proof that we had something.
I remember a conversation with my parents, just before Gareth and I moved in together. When I told them, the news had been greeted not so much with disapproval, but with my mother’s sideways glance at my father; his silence. My dad didn’t mention living in sin, exactly, but he may as well have. He held a view he wouldn’t be challenged on, that living together wasn’t morally right. It didn’t matter that I had my own views. When it came to challenging my parents, the problem was two-fold: my father was intransigent, and I wasn’t brave.
Don’t get me wrong. They were wonderful, caring parents. I’ve thought so many times, Lizzie and I were lucky. But we were different people; even as a child, Lizzie had an independent streak that I for some reason lacked.
Oh my God. And I’m sorry, God, that’s if you do exist and you happen to be listening to me instead of all the other billions of people. But how the heck has it taken me so long to see this?
* * *
Somehow I got through that week, mostly thanks to Lizzie keeping me sane – and busy. On Friday, we set up hundreds of jam jars of flowers on the tables in the marquee, stringing up some pink and silver bunting Lizzie had acquired at the last minute.
I dismissed Lizzie’s idea that I should be getting a massage or a manicure and generally be pampering myself. I knew if I was alone in my own company for too long, there was a very real risk I’d go mad.
Then the evening before our wedding, I piled everything into my car and drove over to my parents’ house. I was doing the right thing, I kept telling myself. This was my life now. Real, not some imagined set of maybes with a man I barely knew. I needed to count my blessings, to remember how lucky I was.
But as I pulled up in my parents’ drive, I sat there for a moment, thinking about what I was turning my back on. In the brief time Adam and I had spent together, I’d learned how it felt to instinctively know someone. To feel seen for who I was. To not be judged. All things I could never have explained to Gareth because he wouldn’t have understood.
Discomfort churned inside me. Then the front door opened, and Lizzie came running out. ‘Tilly!’
In jeans and a halter-necked T-shirt, her long hair was messily tied back, her eyes anxious as she came over to me. ‘Are you OK?’
Getting out, I nodded. ‘I’m fine.’ I forced a smile. ‘I can’t believe it’s tomorrow.’
