He took a step closer and I knew it was now or never. The willow tree was right there and I knew this would be my last,last chance, to see what was engraved on it. And I had to see it! I’d come this far and I was covered in bird shit—I deserved this. I looked at the tree and then looked at him. His eyes widened suspiciously, as if he knew I was up to something. I had to do this very quickly, and then . . .
I bolted. Ran! As fast as I could.
“Becca! Don’t do this!”
But I did do it. In fact, I made it all the way up to the tree. I ducked under its hanging branches and entered into the most magical world. The long leaves hung like soft green curtains, surrounding the largest tree trunk I had ever seen. The light from the torches lit the green curtains up and made them shimmer like emeralds. The breeze blew and every now and then the curtains opened just enough to allow a shaft of light to break through. But there was no time to admire this. I ran up to the trunk and there it was. I could see the engraving. I could almost read it, almost . . .
A symbol.
Two words.
What the hell?
But then I fell to the soft mossy ground as something heavy pulled my feet out from under me. I turned around to see Mike, holding on to my ankles.
“Are you kidding me? Now you want me horizontal? I don’t think so.” I wiggled out of his grasp and threw myself at the tree, but I felt the tackle once more and I was down on the ground again. Flat on my back. From here, I could see a slight opening in the green curtain, and one star peered down at me through the gap in the branches.
“Becca, why are you making me do this?” He sounded so frustrated, I wiggled from his grasp. I must have knocked him over, because suddenly he fell, on top of me. His face was right in front of mine, and his eyes seemed to be pleading with me.
“Please, Becca,” he whispered softly. “This is the last thing I want to be doing, right now. Please, just come quietly.”
I burst out laughing. “Come quietly?” I asked. “Really? Well, you didn’t give me that option last night.”
“Becca,” he said, his eyes coming to rest on mine now.
Suddenly, something happened. His face softened and he leaned in, until our noses were almost touching.
Enclosed in that shimmery green curtain, the world outside seems to disappear . . .
Here, with you, under the willow tree, the world around us vanishes. It melts away into obscurity and it is only you and I, my dearest Edith.
I looked up into his eyes, they seemed to draw me in. I felt sucked in by them somehow, as if I was falling into them, unable to stop. Some magnetic force pulled me deep into him. We leaned towards each other, our noses touching now. I could feel his breath on my lips as he looked deep into my eyes . . .
And then, when I look into your eyes, my love, I know that everything is right again. Just the way it should be. As if looking into your eyes is what can save me. As if looking into them is essential to living, just like breathing.
“Have you got her?” A loud voice snapped us out of the green spell we’d fallen under.
Mike and I looked at each other and suddenly everything felt awkward.
“Sorry . . . I . . .” Mike quickly climbed off me, stood up and dusted himself off.
I climbed to my feet, unable to look him in the eye now, as if something had just happened between us.
“I’ve got her,” he called, and then held out his hand for me to take.
I stared down at it. It was a really nice hand. Big and broad. Long fingers—the kind you wanted intertwined in yours. The kind you wanted to hold on to. Protective hands. I sighed. It was a defeatist sigh; I knew I’d lost this battle. “Fine. Let’s go,” I conceded. My fingers slid between his and, as soon as they did, he gripped my hand tightly, as if he wasn’t going to let it go.
