Happiness.

Part 1

She had done it now.

There was no going back.

It was an idea that came to her when she was under the influence, but she didn't act on it then; instead she let the idea permeate in her brain for many many days.

And then all it took was one rainy, cold Sunday night, after a lonely weekend, with no company, when she started to do the deed.

Spurred on by a chilled bottle of white by her bedside.

For Molly, it was quite a work of art. Not the greatest communicator. Well, not anymore. Not since they ended. It took a while to write, but once she got started she couldn't stop.

Didn't stop until she hit the send button, then collapsed on her bed into a deep, alcohol induced, sleep.

So she had done it now.

She wasn't regretting it. She was hoping that out of all of it she just didn't look foolish. That he would accept it for what it was. At the very best he would take it as a compliment, that he had meant something to her, and not as an insult. At the very worst she'd have pissed him off….but she'd been good at that lately.

She sat back on the café pavement chair, holding an over indulgent hot chocolate with marshmallows and cream in her hands. A special treat. Something she rarely give herself these days. Over the past three months she'd been even harder on herself than she had ever been in her entire life.

She knew she had lost something. She knew that they had lost something.

She was definite though. It was not all her fault . He was an equal partner in the destruction of them. Still she felt she might have called time on the relationship a little bit sooner than he would have. She felt that had she not pushed Charles, and pushed him, and then pushed him a little bit more, he might not have uttered the words she was too scared to.

"Fine, let's break up then. It's what you want. I'm just fed up of this Molly. I can't keep fighting for something that obviously you don't want. Me. You don't want me."

Despite it all it had sent her reeling from the shock. She had been numb for the first couple of weeks, and then the numbness wore off as all anaesthetics do.

Coming up for air she realised just what she had lost, what she had given away, and what maybe she should have tried a little bit harder to keep.

He wasn't to blame, yet he wasn't blameless neither. It was a complicated balance.

The relationship had been going so strong. They had both dropped big hints about marriage. A year and a half together and everything seem fine. Perfect.

Then there was the destructive humanitarian mission that seemed to get under his skin little bit more than anything else ever had. He was more withdrawn. They didn't talk as much. He snapped and she responded in kind. Both had too much to say, yet both said too little.

Then gradually he introduced her name, that name, Geordie, into their conversations.

Attitudes started to change and doubts started to creep in. She knew he was loyal. She knew deep deep down he was not that type of man, but still even after a year and a half, and all his promises, she found it difficult to really believe that. She'd been hurt before. This time though she was committed to the relationship. And so she knew if she had been hurt before in transitory relationships, that this one, THE ONE, was going to be a killer. The pain would be too much.

So Molly did what she had always done, and her self-defence mode kicked in. Rightly or wrongly. She started to get out, emotionally and then physically, of the relationship. Bit by bit, inch by inch. Slowly she had started to check out well before the very end.

Of course it was obvious, Charles noticed and felt her pulling way, and therefore when she pushed and pushed him she knew there would be one day when she pushed him too far and he'd wanted out too.

And that's exactly what happened.

She drank the hot chocolate thinking of the words in her email. She didn't want to over analysis it though. She knew that was a fool's way. Instead she forced herself to feel content with her decision. With the lingering heat from the hot chocolate on her hands she closed her eyes and let the low seasonal sun warm her face, while her thoughts drifted back to the words .

Charles.

I hope you're happy.

You know that I know. You know that our friends are still my friends, and that I know.

It was inevitable. I guess somebody as special as you would not be single too long.

You've moved on.

I just hope you're happy. I know you're probably going to think that's ridiculous, but I do. I do want you to be happy.

I made our last weeks, and month, not much fun for either of us, and so you deserve a little bit of happiness.

You know me. Molly Dawes 'Queen of the Lost Cause', but you also know I have a little green monster in me most of the time. I want you to be happy, but please (don't think I'm awful when I say this….. I'm selfish remember) I don't want you to be as happy with her as you were with me.

I couldn't stand that.

I thought I was detached from all this, from us. But I ain't. Sorry. Still so very much attached to 'us'.

I hear she is pretty. Very. She's a really nice girl too. Someone you used to know before me. Just someone you never introduced me to, although I feel after all you used to talk about her, I feel I do know her. And that kind of makes it a little bit harder for me.

I mean I know, somebody with your boat race, wouldn't exactly end up with somebody who needed to go out wearing a paper bag over their head, but hearing that she's pretty hurt a little bit.

Actually I'm not just hearing that she's a little bit pretty. Folks describe her as beautiful. Kind. Fun. Plus really good at the same job I do. Funny enough she does exactly the same job I do, but I've never met her. Wonder if you made sure if that?

I guess you known me, been in my life for over 2 years now, and you know what I'll be doing. Yes, you guessed it right. I've googled her. I stalked her on Facebook. I've looked in all our friendship groups. So yes. I know what she looks like. I know it hurts me to say this, but yes she is beautiful. And you deserve that. She seems more in your league than I ever was.

I'll be fine about it. It may just take a while. Quite a while. But I guess one day I will be fine about you and her.

I just didn't think it would happen so soon. Think that's what's floored me too. It's only been a couple of months since you ended it.

I thought your heart might have been a little bit too broken to consider another relationship with anyone else. So soon! Really Charles!

I thought your heart might not have repaired itself so quickly after me, but I seem to have been wrong. Wrong so many times about so many things. Letting you go though was the main one!

So does she give you butterflies?

You used to give me butterflies. Each and every time I saw you.

At the very beginning of us I thought it was nerves.

I thought it was because you frightened me, scared me, you were my boss and perhaps I felt a bit intimidated.

As time went on I realised that wasn't the case. I looked forward to that feeling. I looked forward to feeling more alive than I ever had done just at the sight of you. And still right up until the final day, right up to that final conversation, you were still giving me butterflies. Big fucking huge butterflies. Ones I don't think I'll ever feel with anyone else ever again.

You know that I love you Charles.

You know that I loved you with all my heart. You know that I will always love you.

I honestly can't see that ever changing. It's been months but there's still this massive Charles shaped hole in my heart, and I don't think it will ever really heal. I don't think this is something I can just put a sticky plaster on, and forget that it's there. I guess all of my heart is gonna take a lot longer to heal from you, than yours did for me.

I am I being unfair?

Maybe I am. Maybe it's true love with you and Georgie. From all accounts she seems to be a perfect fit for you. A better fit than maybe I was for you? Maybe you knew that and I knew that. Maybe that's why it didn't work? Just know this Charles I really did want it to work.

Oh to have a second chance. If only I could.

Oh God, Charles, I don't wanna be a bitch about all this, I really don't and I do hope you're happy, but I just do hope that sometimes you look at her and you think 'God she's not Molly'.

I mean that you look at her and think 'oh she's not Molly in a good way'. In that there's at least something, some part of her, that doesn't measure up to me. That there's one small part of her that isn't better than me.

I do sound like a bitch don't I?

I'm gonna stop now Charles. Maybe I should have stopped a while ago.

All I need is for you to know is that I hope you're happy. I need you to know that.

I also need you to know that I still love you. I'm sorry, but I do. I still bloody love you with every ounce of my being.

It's a bit unfair for me to say this now while you're at the start of a new relationship and it's all exciting, but I just needed you to know that.

I need you to know that I regret what I did to us. But I just didn't know what else to do. I was so in love with you. I am so in love with you, and things were just going a little bit shit without you around.

Everything in my past showed me that when things are going to shit I'm generally the one to blame, and generally get hurt.

So I wanted to get out and I wanted to get out, not because I didn't love you, but because I wanted to get out to save my heart from the pain.

Well that's what I thought I was doing, but the pain I'm feeling now makes me realise that perhaps my decision was not the most sensible one.

I hope you're happy. I really do. But I can't lie; if you walked through that door today, tomorrow, next week, in a years' time, and said that you want to give us another go. That you'd forgiven me for being so bloody stupid and foolish. That you love me, that you still want me to be yours, then I will open my heart all over again and be very very willing to take the risk.

I guess I've probably embarrassed myself enough.

You know how I do like to go on.

I don't know what made me write this email. I just knew that I had to.

I didn't want you to hate me. I wanted you to know that I wish for you to be happy… as I've said.

But I still wish that you'll think about me, you'll still remember all the good times that we had. That you don't hate me.

Who knows one day we might even be friends. I'd like that. But I don't think I'd like meeting Georgie. I don't think I'll ever be strong enough for that. So maybe it's best that we don't.

Take care Charles.

Stay safe.

Know that I'm sorry. I realised now loving you is worth taking the risk.

You were the best thing I had and once again Molly Dawes you threw it away.

Lots and lots of love, Molly.

Xxxxxx

So the days passed. She knew he would have received the email by now.

Molly hadn't expected a response in the first couple of days. That wasn't his style He was a thinker. She at least had a small hope, or even an expectation that he might drop a quick 'hello' in acknowledgement.

Then the weeks soon crept by and still she received no answer.

No grand declaration of his love for her, and Molly began to doubt.

She made secret, under the radar enquires, as to where he was. Asking was he away on tour? Believing that was a reason as to why he hadn't replied.

Yet that wasn't the reason. The word on the grape vine was he was still on UK soil.

She knew she had lost him. As time went by that was so very obvious.

Six weeks had gone by now since she had wrote and pressed the send button. All there had been since then was six weeks of deafening silence.

She hadn't changed her mobile number. She'd hadn't changed her email address. There was numerous ways he could've made contact with her. Yet he didn't.

The six weeks soon turned into twelve.

Three whole months since she had sent the email. Six months in total since it all ended.

In the beginning, she had checked her emails religiously several times a day in the hope that he would reply. But now months down the line, she never expected anything from him in her inbox.

There were days when she actually thought that she was getting over him. There were days when she finished work and return back to her room she could almost feel herself healing. Yet there were other days when all she did was spend her time thinking about him and wondering.

Slowly she took the cowards way out. She pulled herself off all social media, and her friends, who used to be their friends, slowly one by one started to pull away too. Soon she lost all tenuous contact with Charles' life and status.

Maybe it was better that way. Made it slightly more bearable that he was getting on with his life, and Molly one day was going to have to get on with hers.

Yet she knew it was hard to get over a broken heart. She knew that. She learnt that the hard way. Getting over somebody was almost the easier part of the process. Forgetting them and not thinking about them constantly was the hardest.

Yet she knew she had to try. She knew she had to be happy again.

Happiness

Part 2

"I got your email."

She stood staring at him.

She had been woken up early in the morning, too early for a weekend, by a slight knocking on her door.

Hoping that it was just somebody walking down the corridor making a mistake, she didn't respond. She tried to ignore it as she sneaked a glance at the clock telling her it was 3 a.m. Hell it was even still dark outside.

Yet, still the gently, insistent, knocking continued. She reluctantly shuffled to her bedroom door, ready to give the owner of the knocking a mouthful for waking her from her sleep. It had been a particularly tiring week. She had wanted her sleep and wasn't amused by her late night caller. She opened the door with force and anger. Ready to blast her opinions out.

Instead she stood there dumbfounded.

He said it once again. "I got your email." She said nothing, she couldn't work it out.

A few minutes ago she was in bed tucked up, warm, dreaming about Charles, as she did most nights, now he was standing at her room door.

He looked tired. A full eleven o'clock shadow covered his face. Dark circles under his eyes. He looked dishevelled. He had a large kit bag by his side, and he was wearing the uniform of the travelling soldier.

He didn't wait for any more words. He appreciated that he needed to take control of the situation, and so gently took her shoulders, spun her around and moved her back into the bedroom. He slowly closed the door behind him, and then lent over and turned the bedside light on.

She just stood there still not saying a word. Blinking with the disbelief and the shining light. Not believing her eyes.

"I hope you don't mind? That I came without letting you know?" He was now shaking his head. Dragging his hand though his lank dirty hair. "I've been away you see. Don't know if you knew?" He said nervously looking at her suddenly, taking her in. Worried this was the wrong thing to do. "Never known you to be so quiet Molly." He tried as she remained mute.

"You got my email?" That's all she said and watched a small grin spread across his face, but there was anxiety there too. "And I take it you read it?" She watched him smile and a soft chuckle tumble from somewhere deep in his chest along with a nod. "And?"

"And." He drew a big deep breath as he knew he had to begin at the beginning. "It was bloody rubbish timing." The shock on her face made him realised he'd started badly, and he rushed to hold her. He grabbed her into a hug, breathing her in. It was an automatic reflex to hold her. There was no conscious though to his action. Pleased though she didn't pull away. "It was bloody rubbish timing because…. not like that. Not what you think. Molly let me explain." He then moved them gently over towards the still warm bed, and they both sat down, next to one another half turned so they were facing. "The day I got it. The email. That day that I opened it. I was just about to go away. Deployed. Bit of a hush-hush thing."

She shook her head. She wasn't going to accept lies "No. you weren't. I asked about your section? They weren't away. They said you weren't away." She stumbled out.

"Wasn't with them." His eyes wide and desperate for her to see the truth. "All they knew was that I was training somewhere up north. Without them. Seriously Molly I got the bloody email just before I was about to step on the plane. Literally. It was a lot to take in." He paused. He needed to do this gently. "Spent months reading it and re-reading it. I couldn't answer it there and then. I mean what do you say to an email like that?"

He watched as she disconnected the little eye contact she had with him, and started to study her hands, nervously being played with on her lap. "I don't know what do you say to an email like that?"

He smiled gently and moved to hold one of her hands, and then the other. "I think what you don't do is reply back by email. Something like that Molly I couldn't put into words as to what I needed to say."

"Yeah, I understand" she said as she stood up and went towards the kettle and raised a cup in a gesture of offering him a hot drink. She watched as the nerves danced across his face. She knew this man, and what he had to say, the bad news he had to tell her, he wanted to do that to her face. Let her down in person as gently as he could. An impersonal email would not be his style.

She knew he was about to speak again. So she got in first. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make it difficult for you. Stir things up or even hurt you." She was so embarrassed now about what she had written. "I'm sorry if I've messed things up. I didn't mean that. I just want you to be happy."

With this, he stood, and walked over to where her shaky hands were tipping instant coffee into a cup for him. He grabbed it then stood behind her, looming over her, but still she wouldn't turn to face him . "Yeah I kind of picked that up from the email." He felt her body stiffen at his little joke at her confession. That was not what he intended. He knew he had to tread carefully. "Did you mean it?"

She nodded. "That I want you to be happy? Yes." Her words were definite but soft. Fitting for the early morning atmosphere of her room.

"No, I didn't mean that, but it's good to know. I meant the bit where you said you still loved me?" He said equally softly.

Again she did not turn round. She didn't feel brave enough. For now she was enjoying his closeness. The musty, familiar smell of him, and the warmth his body gave her. Instead she diligently focused on the task of making them a hot drink. It felt so natural. Her back inches from his chest, the electricity was palpable.

"Yes." Finally she admitted. For Charles it had felt like hours since he had asked, but in reality it was mere seconds. To him though the truthful answer to his question meant everything.

As soon though as the words were from her lips she felt the shame and slid away. Moving further into the room, increasing the distance between them. Wondering what the point of all this was.

His head turned and followed the direction she had taken. "It was a good email Molly. Thank you."

"But?" She questioned him. She knew after all this time that there was no hope. He was here to let her down gently, and to explain why.

He turned round and looked at her critically. "But? There is no but!"

"Okay, I understand." She attempted to smile, and act as mature as she could be. She tried to fool him as well as herself, but it wasn't working. "Shit Charles, no I don't….. understand I mean."

He rested himself on the table, half sitting half, standing. Watching her guarded stance a few meters away from him. The weariness of the past thirty six hours suddenly catching up on him. Until this point, he'd been working on adrenaline. From the very day, he got the email he had been working his way up to this point. He knew he had to address what had been said in her email with sensitivity. He didn't want to hurt her. He wanted her to be happy. And so slowly he began. "There's no 'but'….Molly….. I mean look at me." He snorted as he assessed the state of himself for the first time. "Only got off the plane three bloody hours ago, and what was the first thing I did? I got in my car and drove here, at this un-Godly, to see you. You. I needed to see you as soon as I possibly could."

"Me?" She wondered why Georgie hadn't picked him up, and why he wasn't driving to see her. "Why me?"

It was his turn to look unsure and scared. He dropped his head. It almost rested onto his chest. A huge sigh came out. This was going slower than he had hoped, and not as he expected it. "I opened your email at the airport. Minutes before I was about to be deployed for the next three months. It's a bloody stupid thing to have done in hind sight. Open it. All I could think about, all that was on my mind the whole operation was you, and the email. You and what to say. You and getting back to you. I needed to reply to the email. I need to reply to what you said in the email, but I couldn't do it. I just couldn't say what I needed to say….. in an email." He stared now at the ceiling. Swallowing hard. His voice quivered slightly. Whether with tiredness or emotion she couldn't tell. "I tried. I thought I was the one good with words. But I couldn't put down what I needed to say. I needed to see you first, as soon as I could. In person. Not by email, or text. But old school. Face to face. I need to see you to sort this out."

"Okay." Realisation was starting to dawn on her. He needed this sorted before he could move on. He needed this little box to be squared, and then put away before he could return back to the life he had before he left. She understood that. She found herself saying. "Thank you."

Science just hung there. Neither knowing what to say. He had expected more from her. She couldn't trust herself around him anymore. She began stealing herself up for pain of his rejection. Molly started to shiver as the coolness of the room soaked through her PJs. She moved closer to him to reach down to one of the drawers by his legs and pull out a jumper. He misunderstood the action of her coming close and jumped out of the way. It broke her heart. He didn't want her touch anymore.

"The thing is Molly." He said, he was now pacing around the room. "I don't think I've handled it very well. The more time went on, the more I thought about it. The fact I didn't reply back, I realised it was probably too late." He watched her play with the jumper, moving to put it on. "God knows what you were thinking. I mean I could just have sent an email to say we'll talk when I get back or something. A thank you. It's just I couldn't put any of what I wanted to say into words."

She grabbed the unfolded jumper and began pulling it over her head. She'd forgotten the fastened buttons at the neck and she was struggling, pulling it on.

He didn't notice and continued. He needed to be honest. He need her to hear what he felt. "Thing is Molly I still love you. I don't want you to hurt either and I don't want to hurt. And I do without you by my side."

Her head was half stuck in the neck of the jumper. She'd heard his words and was fighting her way out in order to be able to look him in the face. Eventually she managed it. It was not full of style, it was not full of grace, it was typical Molly.

"Come again?" she said unsure that she had really heard him.

"I said I haven't handle this right. I think I've hurt you. I didn't mean to. I just couldn't put what I wanted to put into words. I just couldn't do what you had done. I tried."

She moved towards, him and flapping her hands said. "No, no, no. No not all of that. I heard all of that…..but after that you said something else."

He stood still and looked at her as she moved towards him. Adorable hair fizzing around her face with the static caused from the jumper. Her thick Winnie the Pooh PJs she always wore on the colder, winter nights. Practical, but sexy to him. Her eyes wide, and attached to his. Determined to catch every single syllable he next spoke. "I said I still love you." He moved into her space gently.

His hands automatically moved slowly, so not a frighten her, to her face, and held onto either side. She moved closer too, and his forehead dropped onto hers. "Really?" She asked him.

"Really" he said. He didn't know what to expect. One moment he was resting his forehead against hers, while he gently stroked her cheeks, and the next moment she moved and snuggled to his chest, clinging onto him tightly. Scrunching the combat fabric between her hands with strength, hoping it would show him that she never wanted to let him go again.

She breathed him in and eventually spoke. "I guess you really did come from the airport." She heard him mumble in agreement. "I can tell." She lifted her head up and saw him look at her. "You stink."

She felt his chuckle rather than hear it, and felt herself being pushed away from his chest. Only momentarily did she think she had offended him, but then saw his smile as she watched him bend down and pick up his wash bag from his luggage.

He turned and looked at her, beaming, grabbing her towel from the bedroom door. "I'll go and freshen up then."

She was horrified, and still unsure. "You're staying?"

He turned just as his hand moved the knob of the bedroom door, just as he was about to leave. "Yes, I thought I'd made that clear. I thought I'd go and shower and then come back. Maybe talk some more."

"You mean just like that? You're staying. I don't have to convince you. I don't have to prove to you what I did was so so so stupid. That's it?"

"No. That's not it. We're going to talk Molly" and he moved gently to her again. "We have lots to talk about, but yes I'm staying. Forever if you'll let me." He saw fear flash across her face as he mentioned forever. "Shit that is I mean…. you still mean it….what you wrote in the email?" He realised she'd never said those three words back to him after he'd confessed. "You do still love me? Everything you said? You still mean that?"

She saw and heard his doubts in her. She reached up on tiptoes and grabbed his face, gently planting a soft kiss on his lips. Tasting the saltiness and the stale coffee on his breath. "Course I want you to stay you daft bugger. I just didn't think it would be that easy."

He stepped back, retrieving the towel that he had dropped moments ago. "I wouldn't say it's been easy Molly. Past six weeks, six months have been bloody torture. I missed you."

"But what about….." she began, couldn't help herself, then broke off.

"Oh yes! I was wondered when this was going to come up." He smiled then kissed her briefly. Just because he finally could again. "What about Georgie! Kind of mentioned her a bit in your email didn't you? Confused me a tad. Let's talk about it when I come back. But know this Molly. They never was a Georgie. There has been no one, and I mean, no one in my heart, or in my bed since you. And I don't think there ever will be ever again."

She felt stupid because her responses all seem to be the same monosyllable ones, and repetitions. "Really, but I thought?"

"You see Molly, that's where it all goes wrong…you thinking." He pulled her in to a tight hug. "Now what have I told you about thinking?" He said mockingly.

She playfully slapped his chest. "You cheeky bugger." They both giggled. "I mean I thought you had…. you know….with Georgie."

"No I hadn't. I wouldn't. I didn't. I couldn't." He knew she needed more. "Now I think I need to go and have a shower. Brush my teeth. Clean some of this grime out of my hair, and then I think you and I need to do some catching up . Does that sound good?"

"Sounds bleeding perfect." And she smiled the first genuine smile for months.

He nodded briefly and moved away from her. Intent on heading for the communal showers. She stopped him though for one more time in his tracks. She knew he had to know.

"I love you Charles. Just in case you don't already know. I really love you."

He nodded. Content. This was all he needed for now. Small definite steps. Honestly and time to put themselves back together.

"Ditto." Was his joyful reply as he left her room determine to return as quickly as possible. At last he was happy.