Bridget Jones: Beyond Reason
Chapter XXVIII
Anatomy of a Relationship
Thursday March 28
Weight: 9st 10; Post-birthday party hangovers: 1
"How's the job search going? I still can't believe you finally chucked Finch and Daniel!" Jude slurred, swirling the last little bit of drink round in the glass before tossing it down her throat with a dramatic whip of her neck. Simultaneously, Shaz motioned for another round…the 5th…or was it the 6th?
"Not bad. I've had a few really good interviews actually," I explained glumly. Bummed a ciggie from Shazzer and proceeded to light it.
"So what's the problem?"
"What I really want is a career where I can interview important people, you know, like Gerard Butler or Angelina Jolie or some fabulous programme reporting on exotic culture and posh fashion." Took a quick puff. "Do you like my new top? I popped over to the Bond Street shops yesterday after a Sky interview. I saw Emily Blunt wearing one just like it in Marie Claire." They bobbed their heads in unison. Shaz inspected the silky, blue sleeve fabric between her fingers and smiled approvingly. Thank goodness, because she was getting the exact top in red as soon as she opened her gifts, as well as my discarded copy of one of Dr. Hillbaum's suggested readings. Was glad that neither made an issue of how I was able to afford the obviously more expensive top, especially with self's current unemployed status. Truth is, Mark has been v. generous in that respect, but the last thing I want is for Shazzer and Jude to accuse me of being a kept woman. Am nothing if not independent. "Trouble is," I continued after taking another, longer drag. "So far I've only been considered for research jobs. I've already had a sodding research job!!!"
"What about your cyber-dating thing, and that stuff you did with Daniel in Thailand?"
"Everyone I've interviewed with so far has either said that they're going for a different look, or that I haven't got enough experience…and then they laugh." Lowered my chin momentarily and then back up again. "Tell me the truth, am I really that ridiculous?"
"Of course you're not, Bridge…you're brilliantly entertaining. Actually, you make television bearable. There are far too many uptight wankers on the news. I mean, who wants to see some middle-aged, stone-faced bore when we can see you ride a horse backward, fall headfirst into a hedge, dust yourself off, and finish your report as if nothing had happened?"
"You're just taking the piss out of me!"
"I'm not. Listen Bridge, you yourself said that Sit Up Britain's ratings had never been higher since you started doing those bits. I'd like to see David Attenborough do what you do!" Jude directed the burning embers of her cigarette toward me as she finished her speech. An ash fell into my chardonnay glass. "Oh sorry," she hiccupped.
"We need more wine over here!!!" Shazzer obnoxiously shouted over the loud shuffle of the small pub, encouraging a v. nasty look from the barman.
"You'll find something soon…It's only been five days," Jude consoled. "The important thing is that you are away from that bastard, Daniel Cleaver!…I still can't believe he said what you said he said to Mark. Poor Mark…How is he?"
"Mark is well. In fact, he…"
"He's just like a little child, Bridget!!!" Shaz interrupted.
"Who? Mark?"
"No..no...no. Daniel," Shaz replied, a step behind in the conversation. "If he doesn't get the toy he wants, the toy being you of course, he has a tantrum and tries to break everyone else's fucking toys so that no one is happy," Shazzer explained heatedly. "That's precisely why I despise children…the selfish, screwed up little monsters!" The table tipped slightly, sloshing our drinks about as Jude not so surreptitiously kicked Shazzer. "Oh, except for your children Bridget. Yours will be lovely I'm sure…not a fucked up one in the lot."
Right.
"Anyway, I'm just so thankful to be away from Sit Up Britain. I'm sick to death of Daniel Cleaver! I'll be perfectly happy to never see his smug face again! And I'm sick of Richard Finch and his perverted lynch mob as well! To Hell with the lot of them I say! It's time I moved on to bigger and better prospects!" Charged my glass into the air.
"I'll fucking drink to that! To bigger and better things!" Shazzer cheered, hoisting her own glass to toast as did Jude. We drained our glasses in seconds flat as if in a contest. Knew by that point things were getting a bit blurry, but actually thought I was having hallucinations. An absolutely gorgeous, angular-jawed man in manner of a Gap advert photo model, dressed in jeans and a tight black tee shirt swaggered up behind Shazzer. His straight, dark mane hung shabbily into his eyes and his chin was stubbly. He looked young…too young in fact, but then again, that's Shazzer's modus operandi. He was no Mark Darcy of course, but still pretty damn hot! He placed his hands around her waist, and proceeded to nibble her earlobe. A purr oozed from her throat.
Jude and I stared in stunned silence as the two of them began to speak rather vulgarly in hushed tones to one another. There was no doubt in our minds that two had already become acquainted intimately, but why had we heard nothing of it. Are we not her best friends, for Christ's sake?!
Shaz made the introductions before turning her attentions back to her new boyfriend. "So how does it feel to be 28 today?" he asked, looking down into her moony eyes.
Jude and I looked back at one another again with the same thought. 28???
Eddie bought us yet another round and what happened after that is a bit fuzzy actually.
That was last night. This morning…or perhaps afternoon, am not sure, Mark is not happy with me at all, and he keeps stalking round, throwing things to prove it…and I wish he'd stop because my head is bloody well pounding!
"Just what is your problem?! Stop making so much sodding noise!" Put my face down on the refreshing coolness of the steel countertop. Mark continued to bang plates and cups, each reverberation setting off continuous tiny explosions in my brain. Sadistic bastard!
"Coffee?" was the only thing he said, quite sternly. Moments later could smell the rich brew slowly awakening my otherwise depleted senses. Finally lifted my head to find self alone in the large kitchen but made no attempt to vacate my stool. Good Lord! What was I thinking getting so pissed last night? Am getting much too old for this. Maybe was also struck by a lorry on the way home. How did I even get home??? Don't recall self's head throbbing quite this much in past morning afters. Just then Mark reentered the room carrying the morning post and newspaper and dropped them onto the table with an exaggerated thud before looking scornfully in my direction. "Here are your car keys," he announced calmly, but then tossed them at me, narrowly missing my face as I struggled to even see clearly past my fingertips. "It would appear that whoever drove your car home left the keys in the post box. I suppose I should be thankful that you didn't drive yourself." He turned away and went about rooting through the stack of letters and adverts, discarding most back onto the table.
"Oh. That was probably Shazzer's new boyfriend, Eddie." Maybe. Hopefully. Smirked slightly, hazily recalling his god-awful karaoke rendition of Coldplay's "Yellow". "He joined us last night. Nice chap really. You'll like…"
"Bridget." He interrupted with icy calmness. "I don't want to hear it."
"Mark Darcy, I'll ask you again, What. Is. Your. Problem?!?!"
He leaned back against the counter across from me, his arms outstretched on either side to brace himself, the aluminium finger splint clattered against the counter obnoxiously. I winced at the sound. His steely glare pierced into my own presumably bloodshot eyes. "Bridget, have you any idea how embarrassed I was to receive a call from County Councilor Granger at 1:30 this morning to ask if I knew that my fiancé was dancing on table tops, shrieking like a banshee, and pouring bottles of drink down everyone's throats?!"
Had I really done all that?!?!? Holy shit!!"Well what was he doing there at 1:30 in the morning?! Hmm?"
"That's not the point. He wasn't there making a public arse of himself!"
"Mark! Don't be such a snob! It was my dearest friend's birthday and we were…celebrating. It was a one-off…not as if I do it everyday." Not anymore. Stumbled off of the stool and headed for the back stairs toward the bedrooms.
"Where are you going?!" he shouted after me.
"To lie down. I'm not feeling well." Gripped my head in one hand and readjusted my dressing gown with the other.
"I'm afraid you can't do that." His petulant attitude was wearing v. thin on my nerves.
Stopped in my tracks and turned to face him. Not hard to do, as he was closely trailing me down the corridor like a homeless puppy in want of attention. "And why not? Do you wish to scold me further? Perhaps bang a few more things around until my head explodes?!"
"No Darling," he began sarcastically. "We have an appointment with the therapist in an hour and a half so that we can talk about how perfect we are for one another, or have you forgotten? Did you not find it at least the slightest bit odd that I'm not at work?"
"Shit!!! Is that today??"
7:30pm Later. After appointment with Dr. Hillbaum. Was a v. long, emotional two hours. Mark had agreed to come last week, but by the time the actual appointment was upon us, he quite obviously was uncomfortable with the entire situation and quite frankly was acting like a real twit…in the beginning.
He shook Dr. Hillbaum's hand, of course, and exchanged cordial greetings before huddling closely to the arm of the sofa while I sat on the opposite end. He was tapping his hand nervously against the other in his lap, looking around the room, and making only occasional eye contact. Those eyes. Those golden brown eyes, capable of conveying so many subtle variations of what he was feeling inside, and yet completely impaired when it came to verbalizing those very same feelings. In those brief moments when he spoke to or even just looked at her, I hoped that Dr. Hillbaum could see what I saw…the years of repressed emotion, the hurt, the fear… Stand in front of a room full of world dignitaries and defend a case he can do, but sit privately and talk about anything of a personal nature was an entirely different story. Would she be able to help us?
She offered us the prerequisite tea. I accepted. Mark politely declined.
"I must admit, this present scene bares resemblance to what I saw when I first unofficially met the two of you in the hospital lift. There were a lot of angry and hurt feelings there, would you agree?" Shook my head with hesitant affirmation while looking over at an unresponsive Mark. He was still angry about this morning I could tell, but unless he brought it up, I was perfectly content to hide the fact that my head was splitting and I was nauseated to near distraction. "Talk to me about what was happening at that time, will you?"
Was not pleased to have to rehash what had already been resolved between us.
"Mark and I were not together at the time…and as it turned out we were both hiding secrets." I stopped and glanced over at him to offer an opportunity to add something…anything. He sat silently staring at his trousers.
"And these secrets, have you since discussed them?"
"Humph!" Mark broke in. Dr. Hillbaum and I both looked at him expectantly.
"Are you clearing your throat, or do you have something to say?!" I asked offensively.
"That's all we've talked about."
"I'm sorry that mourning the lose of our child and me caring about your health inconveniences you! I though couples were supposed to discuss things!" Then I turned to the therapist, "Do you see what I mean??" Mark shook his head defiantly and looked away, but said nothing more.
Her head shot up from her notes, "Bridget, you did not mention that you had been pregnant." She thoughtfully looked from me to Mark, and then back to me again. "I'm sorry." She shifted in her seat. "Do either of you wish to talk about it?" We both sat solemnly, neither of us saying a word. Silent, uncomfortable moments passed between the three of us before the doctor spoke again. "Let us talk then about today…"
She wanted to know why we had brought so much hostility, and honestly I didn't really know what to tell her. Mark had completely overreacted to my night out with the girls and I told her so.
"You really have no idea, do you?" Mark interjected crossly. He was glaring at me.
Dr. Hillbaum encouraged him to continue. "Go ahead. Tell her why you are angry."
Was shocked at the revelation, but at least now I understood where the bump on my head had come from. "An acquaintance rang to tell me that Bridget had been behaving foolishly in the pub last night with her friends, and so I asked him to see to it that she got into a taxi and was sent home."
"If you were so fucking concerned about me, then why didn't you come get me yourself?!?!" I exploded. "Or were you too ashamed to be seen rescuing me?!"
"I don't know that ashamed is the word I'd have used, but…yes." Was startled by his bluntness.
"You Mark Darcy are an arrogant bastard!!!!" Angry tears were rolling down my cheeks and I felt so ill that I knew that if I didn't get out of there right then and there, was going to embarrass myself further. Left Mark alone with Dr. Hillbaum and soon found self crumpled on the floor of the lavender-scented loo, acquainting myself with the inside of the toilet bowl. Must admit though that I'd felt much better afterward.
Upon reentering the office Mark jumped to his feet. "How are you?" His mood had softened and he seemed genuinely concerned and a bit frightened. "I was beginning to think that you had left." He reached for my hand, but I pulled away. Wasn't ready to forgive him just yet. "Would you like for me to take you home, Darling?"
Dr. Hillbaum appeared quite obviously shocked by the way he had spoken to me. "Mark," he turned his attention back to her as he reclaimed his seat, this time closer to me. "I want you to share with Bridget what you told me while she was out of the room. And when you speak to her, I'd like for you to look her in the eye. And Bridget," she looked at me. "I'd like for you to listen without reacting until he's finished."
Oh God! While I was away, she'd worked some sort of psychological voodoo on him. He seemed hesitant and uncomfortable. His eyes blinked rapidly as if trying to send me a secret Morse code message. "Bridget, I'm sorry that I didn't come for you last night, but the reason I was angry this morning is because of what happened after you got home." He stopped and bowed his head.
"Mark, please continue," Dr. Hillbaum encouraged.
"When you got home…"
"Look at Bridget." Was becoming angry again, not at Mark, but with the doctor for being so persistent with him as if he were a child.
His eyes met mine. "When you got home, you came to my room waving a statue and slurring something about sex and wanting to get pregnant. You commanded me to rub it and then you practically attacked me." As I listened, my eyes filled with blinding tears and finally I covered them with my hand. How could I have done such a thing to him? "I didn't mean to hurt you…"
"Hurt me?"
"Let him finish, Bridget."
"I honestly didn't think I had pushed you that hard." He bit his lower lip and broke eye contact briefly. "I only wanted you to stop…I didn't mean to make you fall off the bed and hit the floor the way you did." When it finally came time for me to speak I didn't know what to say. Couldn't believe what he had said. I didn't remember any of it! Had I actually forced myself on my sweet, erectile dysfunctioned fiancé?! Dr. Hillbaum passed me a tissue. "I want more than anything to have children with you. You have to believe that…God knows I do, but right now…It seems you still don't realize that."
"Excuse me??" Both Mark and Dr. Hillbaum seemed caught off guard by my sudden change in mood. "I don't realize that?!" I repeated angrily. "Trust me! I realize that you have cancer! I realize that we were both scared shitless! I realize that we haven't had sex in months! I realize that you are likely even more frustrated than I am! But do YOU realize that I know about the frozen sperm?!?" He gasped as if I'd slapped him. "If you want to have children with me so badly, then why would you keep something like that from me?!" Dr. Hillbaum remained silent.
"I…"
"The truth Mark." He looked to Dr. Hillbaum. "I asked the question. Look me in the eye and tell me," I added, taking my cues from the doctor.
"Honestly…"
"That would be nice."
"I didn't want to tell you, and get your…our hopes up until…" He breathed heavily.
"Yes? Until? Until you've exhausted all other possibilities and realized that you could do no better than me? Until you were sure that your father wouldn't write you out of the will for marrying me? Until…"
"Until I was sure that I wasn't going to die, Bridget!" he shouted over my rant. "Until I am sure that I'm not going to die from bloody prostate cancer," he repeated with a more even tone. I was silenced. Why had that never occurred to me? Instead I assume the worst…as usual. Then I realized the gravity of what he had confessed and threw myself into his arms.
"Oh God Mark! You've got to stop thinking like that. Last week, Dr. Reinholdt even told us that your PSAs are way down and that things look great." Buried my face into his neck and held him tightly. I didn't care that we weren't alone in the room. He was all that mattered.
Could hear Dr. Hillbaum turning pages in her notebook and then refresh her teacup. She cleared her throat. "Would you care for a drink?" This time Mark obliged her.
He held his cup in one hand and my hand in the other as he looked over and smiled. "I love you," we both whispered and then laughed at how we'd both said it at the same time.
"That's so lovely." Dr. Hillbaum smiled warmly. "You are a beautiful couple." We thanked her for the compliment. "I'm curious though, how do you show your love?" Was she questioning our sincerity? Or maybe she needed our advice.
He and I sat quietly for a moment, thinking. "Oh, well, we are fantastic in bed!" was the first thing that had come to mind. Looked at Mark. His smile had dissipated.
"We were…When the time is right, we will be again."
"I don't mean sex. Do you do nice things for one another? For instance, Mark, do you ever bring Bridget flowers for no particular reason? Or Bridget, do you ever cook him a nice meal?…Or Mark for that matter."
"I don't think Mark would really think me cooking for him would be a nice thing." Noticed him stifle a subtle grin.
"Bridget and Mark," making sure not exclude either of us. "Love is brought on many levels. If you haven't read The Five Love Languages yet, I encourage you both to do so." Didn't want to admit that I'd only read the table of contents. "Love is remembering dates that seem insignificant to most but will mean the world to your partner." Decided not to mention that I knew the exact date that Mark and I had first had sex or that I knew the exact date that I knew I first wanted to have sex with Mark. She looked towards Mark, "It is understanding that while maintaining a livelihood is important it is the one thing that will not be remembered or cherished in the golden years of your lives." Mark cleared his throat only to realize it was not from indignation but quite possibly an acknowledgment of truth. "It will be the little things you share, the gentle back rubs, the impromptu breakfast in bed, or the cherished love note left on the pillow. It will be the approach of coming to common minds in the rearing of the children." Mark and I released each other's hand as if by electric shock.
Suddenly there was a thud and I realized I'd dropped the teacup onto the floor. Eton. Dreaded Eton. What was I going to say about Eton? Mark went ghastly pale.
"Have I said something wrong?"
"You mentioned raising children," I answered without looking to Mark.
"But I thought we had already discussed that. When the time is right…"
"No Dr. Hillbaum. You don't understand. Mark and I have never been able to agree on this one point. In fact, last year when I thought that I was pregnant, we discussed, or rather argued, over how our children would be raised. We had a terrible fight which, compounded by a whole lot of misunderstandings, led to a break-up."
"I was under the impression that the two of you were only separated for three months."
"That was the second time." Mark touched my arm and appeared to be telepathically trying to tell me something that I didn't understand. I continued, "The first time we were separated for much longer."
"I see," she said gravely, making note on her pad. Mark shook his head negatively.
"Doctor, we're not as incompatible as I'm afraid we seem," he came to our defense. "While it's true that we do have slightly different views on certain issues, we enjoy each other's company a great deal." The second part I'll agree with, but "slightly"? Was he being ironic?
"Let's just stick with the subject at hand for now, shall we? What is this about children?"
"Well you see, Mark here believes that his children should be sent away to school rather than being raised in a loving and nurturing home environment. While I, on the other hand, want to be able to enjoy my children, to watch them grow, and to share their milestones rather than to have some grumpy headmistress tell me about it after the fact. Why would anyone even have children if they are just going to send them away?"
"My, my. It does seem that you have a very strong opinion on the subject, Bridget." She turned to Mark. "Have you anything to add?"
He inhaled deeply and let it out with a sigh. "What Bridget said had been true. My family is steeped in tradition, and one of those traditions is that Darcy males attend Eton when they are old enough."
"Hmph." Crossed my arms over my chest in a show of continued protest.
"But…" Mark continued. "I've since given the matter a great deal of thought, and if it means losing the best person I've ever known, I'm willing to start a new tradition." At first I didn't think I'd heard him properly and I asked him to say it again. "You heard me. We will raise our children together…at home. I'm sure there are some wonderful comprehensive schools in London."
"Oh Mark!!! I love you!!!! Thank you!" I began planting kisses all over his face. He was laughing while trying to make me stop which just made me want to kiss him more. Dr. Hillbaum was smiling as well.
----
"So Bridget, why do you want to marry Mark?" It seemed like such a ridiculous question, especially after witnessing my reaction to Mark's willingness to compromise. How could she ask such a thing? I stared contemptuously at this woman old enough to be my mother, no visible signs of the presence of a man in her life, no pictures on her desk or bookshelves, no wedding ring, and wondered if she'd spent her entire life as a spinster and had no idea what it was like to be in love. "Don't get me wrong, I understand that you love him, but why? Sex? Money? Prestige?"
"Wot?!" I raged. Was this woman in cahoots with Peter Darcy? "He is the kindest, most…"
"Tell him Bridget, not me," Dr. Hillbaum interrupted calmly with a wink and a smile. She'd tried to intentionally make me angry. I turned to Mark. "He's the kindest, most gentle man I've ever known."
"Is that the only reason?"
"He accepts me for the person that I am, and not for the person that maybe sometimes I should be. I do and say stupid things, last night for instance, but he doesn't think I'm stupid…I hope."
"Of course I don't, Bridget."
"And Mark…I'll ask you the same."
"Bridget is…" He was gazing deeply into my eyes as he spoke. "well she's…" His hesitation made me more than a little nervous. "She's everything I've always wanted in a woman, even before I knew what I wanted…She's sincere and enthusiastic about life…and she's the only woman who has ever seen past the veneer and stayed long enough to know who I really am." My eyes were welling with tears. "From the moment I saw her at her parent's, so seemingly flawed yet so honest and unpretentious, some part of me knew that she was the one, or hoped that she was the one. I was so awful to her though and I don't even know why." He bowed his head and fell silent.
"Mark sweetheart, we've gotten past that." I took his face between my hands. "You're not like that anymore."
"Bridget, don't you see?" He pulled away from me, and leaning forward, he buried his face in his hands. "Yes I am. I keep hurting you. Every time I try to make things better, or try to be the man that you want me to be, I exacerbate the situation."
"Don't you know by now?" I hesitated until his eyes met mine again. "You are exactly the man I want you to be."
"Am I really?" He took my hand in his, and for a moment we were lost in each other's eyes.
"Mark," Dr. Hillbaum broke in. "You mentioned that Bridget has been the only woman who has stayed. What do you mean by that?"
"Oh, he was once briefly married to a very cruel woman, you see, and…" I tried to explain.
"I'm terribly sorry Bridget, but I'd really like for Mark to answer."
"Oh. Sorry."
Hesitantly Mark began to spill the details of his ill-fated marriage to Loni, about how they had lived together beforehand and when they finally married, she had been unfaithful just weeks after their marriage and only days after they'd arrived back in London from their honeymoon in Bora Bora. He had always thought that they were happy, but during divorce proceedings, she informed him that she had never truly loved him. Maybe what she had said was true, or maybe it was just out of angry spite that she would walk away without a note of the Darcy fortune, but she'd said it and my heart broke now seeing how it had scarred him so. Quite frankly, could not imagine ever looking into those beautiful, soulful eyes and not falling madly in love with him for all of eternity.
"There is more, isn't there?" she queried. Could not bloody believe my ears, her relentlessness. Knew I should have been grateful, but my heart sank and my stomach churned as this women pressed further, asking more than was any of her business.
Unsettled, he crossed one leg and switched to the other only to switch back again. "Yes, there was someone else." He paused for an endless moment. I'd never heard of any other women, only Loni. My heart was pounding in anticipation. Finally his eyes reached mine again. "We met at university…She was in her first year. I was in my second. She was studying literature. Vivian…Vivian was…is her name." He was looking at me, but he seemed to be somewhere else, lost in the memory…of Vivian. Grrrr "We fell in love. She was my first…my first." Gaah!! His first what? Love? Shag? Or both??? Suddenly felt like an overly experienced tart. Hated to think of him ever having been with anyone else and felt a sharp twinge of jealously over a girl he'd had no connection to in at least a decade. "We had been happy for well over a year. We had so much in common. I don't know what happened. She just rang me up one day and said we were over. A week later I'd heard that she'd been seeing someone…an actor she'd met in her drama course three month before."
"Oh Mark." I placed my hand over his. "You've never told me about Vivian."
He grew quiet and inhaled deeply, releasing himself from the reverie. "Well that is the past," he added. Looking down once again and perhaps the intensity of the moment caused him to want to close down completely, as now we had gone far beyond the surface and journeyed to a very beaten and bruised area of his past.
"Why didn't you ever tell Bridget?" asked Dr. Hillbaum.
"It's in the past. I didn't think it was important."
Don't you think that should be for you and Bridget to decide together…what is important and what isn't?"
"Yes but then wouldn't she think I was comparing everything of my past to her?"
"Well aren't you?" Dr. Hillbaum hit a direct question. "Don't you think that subconsciously you are skirting around some intimate communication issues, afraid that you might get burned?"
"Yes...perhaps I am." He looked at me with tears in his eyes. "No one has ever loved me enough…to stick with me if…"
"If what, Mark?" I asked.
"If I wasn't perfect."
"No one's perfect, Sweetheart."
"I'm sorry Bridget...I know you are not them, but I need you...I love you so much, and my vulnerability is built only on one day that you would leave me like the others." This was what it all boiled down to and I now fully understand why he so relentlessly feels threatened by Daniel Cleaver. He stared at me without even an ounce of the misunderstood Darcy haughtiness that I'd first come to know. I didn't even know that person anymore, nor did I want to because it isn't who he really is. Without a word I pulled myself closer to him, and Dr. Hillbaum excused herself quietly.
Began wondering what countless hours of therapy might lie ahead for us, or the verdict that we don't belong together, though I seriously doubted that was the case. I felt his grip tighten as I suspiciously began to believe and understand that perhaps we shared a lot of the same fears and anxieties. I knew we would all right.
----
Mark took me for a cozy, romantic dinner at Daphne's afterward. Never have we been more close or happier as we toasted our future with expensive Italian wine.
10:40pm We stood together at the bottom of the stairs. "Tell me again why you love me."
"I've already told you three times since we've been home, silly girl." He brushed his hand against my arm and kissed my forehead lightly. "Now come on…it's late." We climbed the stairs together and then I turned to go to my room, but he caught my arm. He pulled me in closely to his chest and kissed me fully. "I think that its time you moved your things into our bedroom."
"Gladly."
Friday March 297:35am Mark is in the shower. Maybe should just surprise him with breakfast. After all, that is homework of sorts. Yuki doesn't have to be the only one to take care of him. And with her on holiday this week, it's a brilliant opportunity. Yes, v.g. idea.
9:15am Had decided to make crepes for my lovely fiancé. Was standing over the cooker watching my creation v. carefully. Must not ruin, burn, or poison Mark's breakfast for any reason told self. Wanted him to be impressed by my newly acquired skill.
Was concentrating on swirling doughy mixture in perfectly circular motion when he came up behind me and nuzzled his smooth face into my neck. "Mmm…smells good," he whispered throatily.
"Mark Darcy, you're making that up!!! I just put it in the pan! It doesn't smell like anything yet! Don't patronize me."
He sniggered, his face still buried in my neck, planting ticklish little kisses. "I meant you. You smell delicious."
"Oh," I giggled coyly, and for the first time since starting, my attention was severed from the crepes. His hair was damp and v. tousled. Droplets of water fell across my face and shoulders as he continued exploration of my crevices. He smelled so good. Mmm…mixture of shampoo and aftershave. Would have been impossible and quite frankly, inhuman of self to resist such advances. "What has gotten into you?" I asked playfully.
"Would you prefer that I stop?" He lifted his face to mine and smirked.
"You'll be in trouble if you do." He pressed his body even closer causing the hard chrome oven handle to press further into self's fleshy bum. Slid my fingers under his half unbuttoned dress shirt and ran my hand over his perky nipple beneath the thin cotton of his undershirt. His lips and warm, soft tongue met mine eagerly as his hands roved elsewhere. "Mark!!!! You have an erection!!!!" At first he seemed embarrassed by the outspoken declaration as if I'd shouted it out during a law function. Embarrassment instantly turned to happiness…or perhaps relief.
The race was a photo finish to the top of the stairs and into the bedroom where we fell onto the bed like dogs in heat leaving a trail of clothes in our wake.
----
A v. short while later we were back in the kitchen. "Dammit! My crepes are crap!!" Emptied the pan of unrecognizable blackened nuggets into the bin. "Sorry."
"Thank you anyway," he replied despondently as he sat in a nearby chair with his head propped in his hand.
Exhaled heavily with an exaggerated blowfish-cheeked motion. "We should have just done it right here on the kitchen table," I suggested.
"I doubt it would have made any difference." He lifted his head and looked me squarely in the eyes. "I'm really sorry Bridget."
Invited myself to sit sideways across his lap to which he accepted quite literally with open arms. "You listen to me, do not apologize. It's not your fault. Do you hear me?" Ducked my head onto his shoulder. No matter how many times I said it though, I knew that a part of him still felt that it was indeed his fault. "Actually, I think you hung in there a bit longer than the last time."
"Great," he added with a disingenuous chuckle.
After a few moments of silence passed between us I sat up. "Mark, I really think it's time we seriously talked about our future." He was listening but did not speak. His eyes blinked wildly and his neck bobbed as if trying to swallow a melon whole. Surely he didn't think that I was about to chuck him again after all that we'd been through. "I'm tired of waiting…" He noticeably shuddered.
"Bridget, I understand, but…" Pressed my index finger to his lips.
"Seeing as how I've already got my dress…" Smiled slyly along with a wink. "…I want to confirm a date for the next month. Will you ring the vicar in Grafton-Underwood or shall I?"
"Did you enjoy that little fright?"
"Yes," I answered matter-of-factly. "So will you, or shall I? I need to know what to write on the invitations."
"I'm not sure that we can reserve the church, any church, on such short notice Darling." He was in better spirits. "What happened to that Italian castle you had your eye on? I know how important it is for you to be like Tom Cruise and…um…what's her name."
"Katie Holmes…and stop it! You're teasing me." He laughed heartily nearly quaking me right off of his lap.
"So why the rush all of a sudden?"
"This is not all of a sudden. I've wanted to marry you for nearly two years." He smiled, his dimple gleaming. "Quite frankly, I can no longer stand to wait to be Mrs. Bridget Jones-Darcy," I explained further, enunciating the name regally.
"Oh, so you've decided to hyphenate, have you?"
"Only professionally. I thought it v. befitting of a proper wife of an important and well-respected barrister. Do you mind?"
"Sounds like you've given it a great deal of thought. Of course I don't mind, Mrs. Jones-Darcy. But just one thing, please remember, my darling, that I'll be working fairly long hours on that foreign case I spoke with you about. After that, we go to trial. I won't be of much assistance to you in the coming weeks."
"I. Will. Handle. Everything…if you can just ring the church."
"Okay, but just don't forget to include me in at least some of your plans as well…and try not to spend all of my money either," he joked…I think.
Leaned in close again, placing my hands against the sides of his face to whisper, "I will never hurt you the way those other horrible women have."
"Bridget, I don't know what I would ever do without you." He touched his forehead and nose to mine.
"Lucky for you, you'll never have to find out." We enjoyed one last, passionate lingering snog before he changed his wrinkled shirt, combed his hair, and dashed off to work.
9:30am Has been a v.g. morning indeed, despite yet another failed shag attempt and burnt breakfast. Have got so much planning to do and errands to run now, but first need to call Shazzer and Jude and tell them the fantastic news…oh, and Magda too...and Tom in San Francisco. Though would love to ring Dad, would feel quite uneasy asking him not to share the news with Mum just yet, so will hold off for now. Then will need to cancel appointment with UK Today. Career will have to wait until I can proudly walk into an interview and call self Mrs. Bridget Darcy, er…Jones-Darcy. Hurrah!!!
----
Many thanks to Kathy, the "therapy elf".
