A Storm Is Brewing

Lights Out

Leah and I collected my suitcase from the hotel reception, heading to the room that we would be staying in for the duration of our trip. Both of us were exhausted after a long day of social interaction, something that tired the two of us out equally, no matter who it was with. As we got ready for bed, I noticed that Leah had gone quiet; her hands were lightly trembling, and when she looked at me, she gave me a closed-mouth smile. She was nervous; I knew that.

"We don't have to talk tonight, Le. Just when you're ready." I smiled at her.
"I want to. I need to." She sighed.

I pulled the duvet back and sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Leah climbed in from the opposite side. She fumbled with the pillows, patting them down and moving them around before stopping and looking up at me.

"Aren't you getting in?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah. I'm waiting on you to sort your pillows out so I can get the light." I chuckled.

Leah smiled at me, gazing lovingly into my eyes. She finally placed her head on the pillow before sticking her thumb up playfully to let me know she was ready. I giggled at her silliness before turning out the light and placing my head on my own pillow. Simultaneously, we both turned on our sides to face one another. I placed my hand between us, opening it in preparation for Leah's hand to find it, which it immediately did.

I knew I couldn't push her, so I didn't want to be the first to talk. I simply lay there and allowed myself to feel the butterflies in my stomach as my heart lay just inches away from Leah's. The noise of traffic passing by in the distance was all that filled the room as I felt Leah lift our hands in unison and plant a soft kiss on my fingers. A squeeze of my hand and a clearing of her throat were the signals that Leah was about to talk.

"I know I haven't been fair to you; I want you to know that I know that." She began.
"I'm not going to sugarcoat things; it did hurt, Le. If we're talking about not being fair, though, I know I should've told you about the doctors."
"It's hard to explain why that made me feel how it did. I'm going to try, but I'm not sure it will come out right, okay?"

I moved my other hand to her cheek, gently rubbing my thumb across it as I nodded to her question.

"When we're together, like I'm not away, I feel this buzz. It's like excitement; I wasn't sure what it was. I thought it was just the feeling of being in love, to be honest, but I didn't feel that when I was away. I had to really try to discover what it was; thinking that it was just being in love was wrong. I was still in love, and I am still in love, but that buzz goes away. Today, when I held you again, it was back."
"Did you work it out?"
"Yeah. It's when I feel like I'm living my future. Kissing you goodbye before work, making dinner for you when you come home, driving by the office and knowing you're in there, going to visit our families together—that's our future. And we're living it. When we're apart, I don't feel like we're living our future because, well, we aren't. We're wasting time. When we grow old and know our days are numbered, I'll just be thinking of the times I stepped out of our future and left you for months on end. I'll regret it." Leah sighed deeply.
"Le -" I tried to interrupt her.
"No, please, let me finish, or I won't be able to. When I saw the news article, the first thing I thought was that you had given up on me. That the mystery brunette was someone who doesn't have to travel the world, someone who can give you 365 days of every year. Someone who can always be there to go with you for blood tests, someone who can always tell when something isn't right with you. I think that's what got me the most: you were sick and I didn't know. If I was around, I could've noticed that you were unusually tired; I could've been the one to notice it. I could've cooked you green, leafy vegetables."

I laughed at the realisation that Leah had googled the deficiency, knowing the process of trying to increase my B12 levels.

"Do you really think I would do that?" I asked.
"I know you wouldn't, in my heart. Part of me wondered if it would've been for the best, though." I heard her voice quiver.
"How would that be for the best?" I questioned.
"Soph, when I met you, you were living in Ireland. You went about your daily routine with no paps, no fans, and no hassle. You moved your entire life to London for me; you gave up your employment for me; and you left your family for me. What have I done? What have I done for you? Nothing. I kept my original club; I continue to travel the world; I still have my parents around the corner; and I still have my friends down the road. You've done everything; all I've done is increase the distance."

To an extent, what Leah said was true; all of those big risks were my own. I had been the one to move away from everything I had ever known in the hope of a reunion with Leah. Leah was the person who had commitments that meant she had to travel a lot. That didn't mean I thought she had done nothing or that I had done everything.

"What about the night you took a risk by telling me you'd enjoyed spending Christmas with me? The flowers? The New Year's Eve that you created for us to be able to have our first kiss at midnight in New York? Supporting me when the press got hold of the Colin Coyle case? Standing up to my mum? What do you call those things?"
"Pretty tiny in comparison." She huffed.
"I don't agree."
"Why?"

I lifted myself up, placing my arm under my head. I don't know why, but I felt like I could communicate better from this position; maybe I just thought I would be able to get through to her more.

"You telling me that at Christmas made me allow myself to feel those feelings. You sending those flowers gave me a reason to be hopeful. You created New Year's Eve for us and gave me a reason to love being in London. You sticking by me through the Coyle situation made me feel safe. You standing up to my mum, made me feel like I wasn't broken anymore. Love isn't measured in big, flashy gestures, Leah. It's measured by the little things that we do—the things that seem tiny to us because of how much we care for one another. If you hadn't made those, pretty tiny as you say, gestures, well, I wouldn't be here with you right now. Some things we had to do logically, like me moving to London, and other things we have done equally. That's what it should be about. As for not being there 365 days of the year, I would take being loved by you, together or apart, 365 days of the year over anything else in the world."
"I'm scared that I won't be enough." Leah's voice trembled again.
"That day when I walked into my dad's with no idea who you were. Who were you then?" I asked.
"Myself."
"Who are you now? Right here, with me?" I asked again.
"Myself."
"Who will you be in these moments with me in the future?" I asked once more.
"Myself."
"Then you don't ever need to worry about not being enough, Le."

I watched as the silhouette of Leah moved slightly, allowing her body to fall onto its back, her arms opening to pull the top half of my own body towards her. She wrapped her arms around my neck, kissing me in a loving way that I had missed more than anything. Her hands played with the hair at the back of my neck, her cheeks widening as she allowed herself to smile into the kiss before breaking away ever so slightly.

"I love you, Sophie. I really want to -" I interrupted her, knowing she needed the reassurance that I wanted this too.
"I really want to marry you as soon as we can too, Le." I smiled, placing my lips back on hers to peck them.
"Andddd?" She chuckled.
"And I love you. I love you, Leah."