Forgive me?

By Louise Gleave

Forgive me?
            That is all I ever seemed to say to you. I forgot to empty the bins. Forgive me? I forgot to lock the door behind me and the dog got out. Forgive me? 

            What happened to the good times? What happened to the laughs? The smiles? Just... the fun?

            I miss those days: they seem like a long ago dream now.

Remember when we first met? You were a mechanic and I was a waitress. Every day you came into the cafe for lunch with the guy’s from work. Every time I laid my eyes upon you, butterflies invaded my stomach and blood flooded my cheeks. I still remember your order – always the same  –  two lattes, a coffee, tea and four bacon sandwiches. I could never take my eyes off you. You looked so ruggedly handsome in those orange and brown coveralls. Hate to say it but it's how I got distracted and spilt the lattes all over you. Forgive me?

            You did. Better still, you asked me on a date. You took me to the cinema –  we watched a thriller. I can't recall the title, but I do remember you saying ‘Crap that!' but especially liked the part that made you scream.’ And You're right, I did, and you tickled me until I could no longer breathe. You kissed me for the first time that day, and I panicked and bit your lip. Forgive me?

Remember when I was trying to show off, pretending I knew about car engines? I looked under the bonnet and nodded at what you were saying, answering ‘yes’ to questions I knew nothing about. When did you figure out I was lying or did you know all along? I think I might have been able to keep up the pretence until I burned myself on one of the many pipes. You were so sweet about it though, bandaging my hand up like it - my hand that is - was a child going out into the cold. 'Keep it warm,' you said. 

            Your eyes sparkled a little during our ‘car’ talks. I don’t know whether you noticed, my love, but your lips would pucker while you talked and a few times I thought you were going to kiss me. It's why I leaned forward and that’s how we butted heads. Forgive me?

What about the time you met my dad? I expect you wouldn't forget in a hurry. He was only kidding about burying you under the conservatory, I promise. And he feels bad about the knife incident, I think it was more my fault than his. I left my bag in the way and he tripped. Forgive me?

Remember our first night together? We snuck some of your mum’s red wine and settled down in your bedroom, tangling ourselves together under the sheets. Your cheeks were flushed and your blue eyes were bright. You were so beautiful, sparkling with life. We laughed and joked, played and acted like fools. And when you lay on top of me and gazed deep into my eyes, I knew you were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

And the time Mum first asked us about children?

            I think that was the funniest moment of my life. Your eyes went wide. Your face went pale and your mouth was slightly open, like you gawked. I could see the pulse pumping in your neck, but then you surprised me by taking my hand and telling my mum ‘Soon’.

            Soon? I couldn’t believe it. I don’t think I could have loved you more in that moment.  My heart swelled at the thought of having children with you, sweetheart.

 

Oh that day you proposed, remember? Will I ever forget?

            You were adorable, all dressed up in a tux, down on one knee, smiling like an angel. A violinist started to play our song and as the sweet melody settled around me I think I knew then, but I didn’t want to get too excited in case I was wrong – like with the kisses. You said the most romantic things and melted my heart. ‘I love you,’ you said. ‘Marry me?’ you said, blue eyes glowing, cheeks flushed. How could I say no? Not that there was a chance I would ever say no. I just could not believe I swallowed the ring; I didn’t realise you’d hidden it in the drink. Forgive me?

Marriage was tough, I know, but no one ever said it was easy. Still, we always made a good team you and I, you was yang to my yin, my counterpart, my soul mate.

            ‘Till death do us part,’ the vicar said.

            Only we didn’t know we would part so soon.

It was raining that day, do you recall? In fact pouring down making it hard to see through the windshield. It seems silly why we were yelling at each other now.

            I can’t even remember what it was about.

            I keep rewinding that moment in my head; the way the truck came out of nowhere, the way you tried to avoid the collision, the way you looked at me for only a split second but it was enough. ‘Forgive me?’ I mouthed.  You nodded once before the truck's rear end jack-knifed and hit us head on.

In the hospital, you were screaming my name: it broke my heart to hear you. Tears spilled down my cheeks.

            ‘Be brave my darling,’ I tried to say but my lips couldn’t form the words. My heart gave a little squeeze and I prayed you would be okay.

The machines were dizzying and the lights were blinding. I know the doctors did what they could but it wasn’t enough, the damage was too severe.

            I’m sorry I let you down.

I‘m back in the hospital wishing you were here with me, my love. I stroke my swollen belly with pride. The doctor glides in and takes his place, rubbing jelly over my midriff. My heart races. How I pray you were here holding my hand. A tear squeezes out and slides down my cheek, I wipe it away.

            The doctor turns and smiles. ‘It’s a boy!’ he announces. ‘Any name’s in mind?’

            ‘Jake’ I say proudly. ‘After his father.’

            And for the first time since that fateful day I feel you’re here with me, my love, and that all is forgiven.