The Reason

Chapter Three

The anticipation that was sitting heavily in the pit of my stomach just got heavier and heavier when I didn't hear back from Rex. The days all went by, and as they went by, I became more weighted down with disappointment. Disappointment in myself for stupidly sending the text in the first place, and disappointment because Rex chose to ignore it. Thankfully, work has kept me busy. I've been recreating a working 1940s kitchen, which is being unveiled this Saturday. This interactive exhibit has been my professional baby for a couple of months now. It means a lot, both professionally and personally. So it's imperative that its big unveiling goes without a hitch. For the most part, my worried mind has been anxiously kept occupied with thoughts of deco kitchen cabinets, copper jelly moulds, antique dinner sets, vintage cake carriers and Falcon enamelware. It's only when I come home at night and try to sleep, that is when my thoughts often stray in the regrettable direction of Rex. Which is why I've arranged to catch up with Faith this Sunday. After Saturday, I'll be able to relax, and that can only mean I'll end up thinking even more about Rex. Which is something that I don't want to do.
I don't want to think.
I don't want to remember.
I just want to forget about seeing him at Angela's and Aidan's.
Angela herself hasn't said one thing about Rex, either. So, I am thinking that she's also trying to forget the whole awkward affair, too. I'm sensing that behind her professional politeness, she's actually feeling a little resentful towards me because my text message to Rex has obviously got back to Aidan. He's probably furious with her, and she's more than likely seen the error of her wifely ways. I can't really blame her for being cross with me. I put her in an impossible situation, which was so wrong of me. No, this is no good. I definitely need to move forward. It's best if I just put the whole sorry mess behind me. It's not going to be easy, but it's achingly obvious that Rex wants nothing to do with me. He's refusing to hear my apology, so it's plainly clear that I need to return Rex to the secure and hidden place within my heart. I've already had a long and teary phone conversation with my sister about it all, and she's assured me that some quality time with her and our credit cards, will totally de-Rex me. Faith is now also living in Bath. She followed me here after her split with Gareth, and I must admit, I do love having her closer to me. She's working in a high end beauty salon, where a lot of the wealthy women get waxed, plucked and massaged. It's actually very handy having a beauty therapist within the family, because I get to have wonderful facials in the comfort of my own home. Faith maybe six years younger than me, but at 26 years old, many think we are non identical twins. My hair is long and a dark shade of brown, whereas Faith's is long and is just a slightly lighter shade of brown. We are often told by our dear and ageing grandma that I have our mother's hair, and that Faith has our fathers. She also tells us that our hazel eyes that have tiny golden flecks that can only be seen in a certain light, are absolutely from her. Nonna (as we like to call her) lives in sheltered accommodation in Gloucestershire. After the death of our grandfather eight years ago, she plans on seeing out the rest of her days within the bosom of Stroud Valleys. Myself and Faith do try to see her as often as we can, but it's guiltily nowhere near as often as we should do. With yet another thing to feel a little shit about, I decide to crack on with a little housework. My cute little one bed cottage isn't big in any way, yet I still somehow manage to make it look messy with all of the books and history magazines that I possess. Dressed in my housework attire: comfy black joggers and a pale pink camisole, I turn on my music and begin to tidy up. My preferred music of choice for housework, is Abba. Mamma Mia is an excellent hoovering song, Super Trouper is great for washing up and Dancing Queen is an absolute must for dusting. Singing loudly along to Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! with my rainbow coloured feather duster in my hand, I faintly hear the gentle chime of my doorbell. Slightly startled by the interruption, I make my way to find out who my evening visitor is.

With the song still tunefully in my head, I open the door with a smile sitting on my relaxed lips. For just a stunned second, my stomach flips and my heart thunders against my breast. My eyes widen and my mouth falls open as I take in the sight of Rex, who stands before me with a far less happier look on his unmoving face.