We hugged tightly and he kissed my cheek. It all felt so familiar and so safe. Looking at him, I saw all the little parts of him that I’d come to know and love – the tiny mole on his cheek, the one hair that grew against the grain in his left eyebrow. The way the tip of his nose brushed my cheek when he kissed it. He was the Richard I’d known for years now – my Richard. Of Richard and Tabitha. No more secrets, no more uncertainty.
We went to bed that night in our room, the first time I’d slept in there since we’d broken up. When I woke up in the morning beside him, it felt like a return to normalcy, to routine. Like the first morning in your own bed after the long journey home from a stressful trip.
It was over. The whole messy episode. Richard had apologised and we’d recommitted to each other. I looked at his sleeping face, his nose adorably scrunched as he dreamed. This was the man I wanted to marry and have kids with. And just as it had with my parents, it would all work out eventually.
After so many days and weeks of uncertainty and worry, everything was back to normal. And yet, as I got up and checked my phone, finding a text from Emma, I felt slightly ashamed. What was she going to say about me getting back with Richard after she’d spent so long supporting and reassuring me? What if she was disappointed in me?
I brushed my teeth, searching my own face in the mirror. Did it matter if Emma disapproved or didn’t understand? What mattered was that I was happy. And I was.
At least I would be.
Eventually.
Chapter 22
‘You’re… back together?’
I took a sip of my tea, looking away from Emma as she gaped at me. The shop was empty, as per usual for that soon after opening. We were sitting by the counter and having our morning tea as we exchanged plans for the weekend. Emma had just finished telling me about an axe-throwing date she’d decided to go on with a woman she’d met online and so I’d passed on my own nugget of news.
She looked upset but also worried, like I’d just told her I planned to quit the shop and become a nun. She looked at me like I wasn’t making any sense at all.
‘Yeah… he apologised again. He seems to really mean it, so…’ I shrugged, hoping she’d drop the subject if I could just telegraph how nonchalant I was about it. ‘So have you seen this axe-throwing babe before or…?’
But she wasn’t taking the bait. ‘Tabitha, I’m happy if you’re happy, you know that but… I’m just a bit worried because you were so heartbroken and so sure you were done with him. This feels like a massive one-eighty and I just want to make sure it wasn’t… caused by something major.’
‘Like?’ I asked.
Emma looked really uncomfortable now. ‘I don’t know, the housing situation maybe? Or you’re worried about starting to date again? It just feels like maybe you’re sort of rebounding on Richard… with Richard.’
I felt my face start to grow hot. ‘I’m not “rebounding”, I’m just… being realistic, for a change.’
That only seemed to deepen Emma’s confusion. ‘What do you mean “for a change”? When have you not been realistic? I thought you were handling things really well since he moved out.’
‘Well, look at this place for starters,’ I said, my flush deepening. ‘I had this big dream about a yarn shop and I didn’t really think it through. I just acted on a whim. I haven’t managed to do anything to bring sales in. I just started this without any sense of what was realistic. I mean, a shop like this in a town this small? It makes no sense and we’re probably going to have to close down eventually.’
‘… Oh,’ Emma said, crestfallen. Her eyes were huge with worry. ‘You’re closing the shop? What about the Stitch and Witch? When were you going to tell me I’d be looking for a new job?’
‘No! We’re not closing, like, right now.’ I was getting flustered now. Why wouldn’t she just leave it alone? ‘I’m not planning to at the moment but, come on, it’s hardly buzzing in here, is it? It feels like we’re on borrowed time and have been since we opened. I’m sorry… I thought that was obvious.’
‘But what does that have to do with Richard?’ Emma persisted, her expressive eyes narrowing. She tilted her head like a particularly savvy crow, her long gemstone earrings swaying. ‘Is this whole “reunion” about money worries, because, if it is, you know I’ll help any way I can, you’re not alone…’
‘It’s just about me planning for the future,’ I said, standing up and taking my mug to the back in an attempt to forestall further comment. My hands were shaking. ‘I’m nearly thirty and everyone I went to school with is getting married and has kids. Kids plural! I can’t just keep wishing and hoping that I’ll get the life I want. I have to do something about it.’
‘And that something is settling for Richard?’ Emma asked, coming to stand in the doorway. ‘Is he really who you see yourself spending the rest of your life with? Thirty isn’t dead – you’ve got decades of life left after that.’
‘I know, and I’m not settling, I’m being realistic. He’s a successful, intelligent, stable guy.’ It had all been so clear last night – why was she doing this to me now? I could feel a headache coming on.
‘And he cheated on you. What’s to stop him doing it again?’ Emma pointed out, unnecessarily in my opinion. I’d been there after all, I’d seen it. It happened to me, not her. Embarrassment was turning to annoyance as this conversation continued.
‘And he said he was sorry, so I forgave him. That’s what adults do. They talk through their problems and fix them,’ I said, my voice sharper than I’d intended it to be. ‘They don’t throw salt at it and wish it away. It’s time to grow up!’
As soon as the words were out, I wanted to snatch them back. I hadn’t meant to throw in an insult to Emma’s witchy beliefs, but it was too late. I saw it land. I saw it hurt her and watched as she quickly covered that hurt up, as if she didn’t trust me with it. That was almost worse than seeing it to begin with.
‘Emma…’ I began, stomach churning with guilt. ‘I’m sorry—’
‘It’s fine,’ she cut me off, but her lip was quivering. ‘Look, I need to restock the embroidery floss, so I’ll get on that.’
She vanished to the other side of the shop and I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling awful. She was obviously desperate to get away from me so she wouldn’t have to pretend not to be upset. Nothing needed restocking. The loaded shelves were hung with discount signs as it was. We’d barely opened for the day and had refilled the shelves yesterday to get ready for an influx of sale customers who were probably never coming. She was avoiding me. No wonder, really, after I’d snapped at her for just being worried about me. Snapped and personally insulted her in the same breath.
