Her eyes were so warm. “Nothing would surprise me, Darren Trent. I know you too well, remember?”
Ready, Dadddd!
I chanced a final kiss, nothing more than a peck on the lips before I joined the girls. “Door’s on the catch,” I said. “Let yourself out when you’re ready. No rush.”
I brushed my teeth quickly, grabbed a jacket and my keys from the side.
“Let’s go,” I said. “Last one to the truck gets the hardest yolk.”
It was so surreal. I lay back in Darren Trent’s bed, which used to be mine too. Only now it smelled just of him. Of musk, and shower gel, and cigarettes, and sweat and oil, and sex…
I pulled the covers to my face and breathed him in.
We had sex again last night. I couldn’t stop grinning.
I would have stayed there all morning if I didn’t have to get back to Nanna. I dragged myself up with wobbly legs, aching with that just fucked feeling that felt divine. I used Darren’s toothbrush, plucked it from the holder where it rested by the two girls’. I knew whose was whose. Ruby’s would be the funky green one, Mia’s would be the glitter purple. I took a pee and I couldn’t stop staring at them, those three toothbrushes, a small token of the life they lived together here. A life without me.
I wandered into the girls’ room, my heart racing even though it was stupid. I was hardly an intruder.
The bottom bunk was freshly made, the bright heart pattern all lined up neatly. The top bunk was a disaster area. I raised myself on tiptoes and cleared a monster truck from up there, managed to find a couple of Haynes manuals and a plastic beaker, too. I put the beaker in the sink, then thought better of it and washed it up, along with the dirty mugs from Darren’s bedside table.
There were another couple in the living room, a couple of empty beer cans stashed down the side of the sofa that I threw in the recycling.
I made Darren’s bed and my tummy was tickly.
I don’t want to leave.
I put his dirty clothes in the hamper then figured I’d return his washing machine favour – loaded up a load of whites and set it going.
I found a pack of wipes and dusted down the bedside table, cleaning off the mug stains.
I shouldn’t have opened the drawers, but I did.
The top drawer was the usual shit. Some of it had probably been there since before I’d moved out. A couple of old watches, some membership cards, his passport. Condoms, lots of condoms. More condoms…
Lube…
I closed the drawer, reminding myself that this was him now, this was his new thing. Just a job.
He said it was just a job.
The drawer handle polished up nicely. The one on the drawer below it, too.
I took a quick nose inside, since I’d already snooped my way through the first. Paperwork. Cheque books. A little black book. My heart pounded as I looked inside, laughing when it turned out to be car events listed not women’s phone numbers.
Stupid, this was stupid.
I’d nearly closed the drawer when I spotted the little blue box at the back. The kind you can’t mistake. A little velvet number with a flip lid.
My God.
Surely he wouldn’t have kept it. Surely Stacey would have kept it?
Maybe she gave it back to him.
Maybe he kept it in case she changed her mind.
I took a breath as I opened the box.
It was beautiful. A single diamond on a white gold band, delicate and classy and not too in your face. I tried to imagine Stacey wearing it. She’d been so larger than life, so blonde and bubbly and… not white gold.
I guess I was wrong.
The box listed a jeweller in Carmarthen. My skin prickled, and it wasn’t in a good way. We’d always stopped in Carmarthen on the way to the coast. We went every year, sometimes twice. My parents ended up moving that way, their guesthouse wasn’t far away from there – Saundersfoot.
I imagined Stacey and Darren there, walking those same streets that we walked, holding hands like we did. I pictured them on the same beach we’d sat on, grabbing ice creams like we did. Playing with the girls like we did.
I wondered if she played with my girls on the same beach we went to.
Of course she did.
I told myself to stop being an idiot. Everyone has a past. My relationship with Brian lasted way longer than Darren’s had with Stacey.
But I hadn’t loved Brian. Hadn’t proposed to Brian. Hadn’t bought a ring with Brian.
Hadn’t kept it in my bedside drawer for years after.
So what if he had her engagement ring in his bedroom? Who cares about that anyway?
It’s not like we were together. Not like this was a thing. How could it be?