Once again many apologies for how long you had to wait for this chapter and thank you so much for your kind reviews to date. This isn't the place for an Oscar style speech so I will just say please read enjoy and review. Thanks Pips
Chapter Fourteen
I hesitated a modicum too long. What had seemed like such a wonderful and positive opportunity after the tormenting and annoying rehearsals now needed consideration. I was Pandora and her box; temptation luring me all the time.
Eric noted the moments that I paused as I frantically weighed up the options and I felt him harden, withdraw from my side and construct a barrier of disregard. "Don't be a cock tease Christine," he spat my name out and it took me a second to realise that he had used my real name; my formal stage name. "It doesn't suit you." Pivoting on his heel he marched out the room, leaving me there, staring at my sleeping daughter in the cot, wondering where I had gone wrong as the tears started to flow unbidden and unchecked down my cheeks.
With a sniff I backhanded them out of the way. I couldn't blame Eric for this predicament, he was right, annoyingly so. Too many times I had led him on and then turn a cold unfeeling back on him and in the light of our frantic coupling earlier in the evening, I needed to close the situation in whatever way I could.
He was at the piano, his foot held down on the una corda, softening the notes that he was playing, although I was unsure if this was for the piece of music or out of consideration for my sleeping daughter. I approached; knowing that my footsteps were silent and stood to his side, listening to the music.
I was unable to identify the composer, yet my feet itched to dance to the melodic and flowing notes; the steps etching themselves out in my head and without meaning to I found my foot softly taping out the beat. It was enough to cause Eric to stop and look at me.
"I didn't mean it that way," I opened, launching straight into conversation. If he was as infuriated as I imagined there was no point making small talk.
"Then how did you mean it?" His tone of voice was cool and collected, bordering on disinterest. I felt like a student in front of my ballet teacher, trying to explain why I was tardy for class. It was too late for any excuses.
"I know that if I say yes there will be no going back Eric. I've learnt the hard way that you can't undo time, however much you wish you could. I, I..." my words trailed off under his inscrutable stare. "I just want to be totally sure and absolutely free to, um, be, um." Damn it, why could I not form a complete sentence. This never happened in the movies, in the romantic books that I read. There the heroines never had problems articulating how they felt.
Eric simply let out a long suffering sigh and turned his attention back to the keys, continuing to play. His jaw was set and his fingers pounded out the notes, even if they were dampened. Shit I needed to say something quickly before the moment was entirely lost.
"Look, I'm sorry about this afternoon. I didn't quite mean it to happen that way. Well I did, but I didn't." Contradictions abounded in my speech, for I was far to het up to rationally voice what I was thinking. "I have always been upfront with you about how I feel and why I hesitate and you know that." He continued to ignore me and I found my temper rising. "At least fucking look at me when I'm talking to you!" I practically screamed the last words, forgetting about my sleeping daughter upstairs, forgetting about the promises I had made to myself to keep my distance. I was truly riled.
He turned his lips in a smirk as he observed me red faced and tousled hair, eyes narrowed in his direction. My annoyance vibrated in the air around me. Now I was seriously pissed off and his sarcastic smile simply riled me even more.
"Right, forget it. I knew this was a mistake all along. I should never have agreed to moving in with you, should never have let you wiggle into my life as you had." In my anger I chose to ignore the blinding truth that he had done much more for me that I had for him. "Let's just call it a day shall we as we will never be able to live together happily. One of us will always want more. Consider this my notice; I will start looking for somewhere new to live tomorrow!"
I threw my hands in the air, as I saw how he was frozen to the piano stool, a look of bewilderment on his face, before I turned and sprinted up the stairs two at a time. It was stupid, but then it was only another move in the long line of foolish things that I had done that day. As my foot landed on the top step it twisted over painfully.
"Ow, shit, shit, shit, fuck," I swore as the stab of pain shot through my ankle. Trying to keep the weight off it as I hobbled into my bedroom and fell on the bed, burying my head in the pillow and clenching my teeth against the pain. It would be just my luck that the night I chose to end the best situation I had ever been in, I would sustain an injury that would finally end my dancing career and leave me not only homeless, but also destitute.
Without warning coldness descended on my ankle causing me to wince and I looked up just enough to see Eric holding a packet of frozen vegetables wrapped in a tea towel against my painful joint. Not knowing what to do or say I simply flopped my head back into the feathers and lay there, feeling the warm throbbing ease with the coolness. I would live to dance another day.
"You didn't mean it did you Ali?" he said quietly, sadly. I rolled over onto my side. There was a certain disadvantage to having your head buried in a pillow when you were trying to hold a conversation with someone.
"Maybe, partially," I admitted, feeling like an a-class bitch. "I just think that we cannot go on like this and I know that I cannot give you what you want."
"You mean now that you are becoming a famous superstar you no longer need me?" I gasped in shock before realising there was a teasing lilt to his words.
"I am being serious Eric. I am truly sorry for what I did at your parents, I didn't mean to, just got carried away in the heat of the moment. The trouble is there are going to be so many moments and they may get worse then that. How would you feel if you woke up one morning with me next to you in bed?"
"Honoured."
"Oh stop teasing!" My tone was petulant. I was not in the mood for his trick of bantering his way out of a difficult conversation. "Eric, I have maintained from almost as soon as I met you that I do not want anything more from you then friendship and can give nothing more in return." Lies, lies; lies – the words pounded in my head in time with my heart. "I do not want to ruin what we have by a night of what would just at the end of the day be sex!"
"You're serious aren't you?" Shock momentarily froze his face before it dropped into a hangdog expression. "I thought I was a good judge of women as well. Seems that I've lost that skill."
"You are a good judge of women, I'm sure Eric. But what I don't want you to do is place your emotions on me because I am readily available. Nothing but heartache in that direction for both of us."
"So you are determined to move out then?" I gave a one-shouldered shrug in reply. "I think it would be for the best Eric. I am earning a decent salary finally and can afford to hire a nanny for Tess. It would give you back your free time as well. You can compose again – write that composition, hey write me a ballet. What?" I paused in my speech as I saw a funny look cross his face, a combination of a smile and a frown.
He simply shook his head in the negative. "Can we still see each other, can I still see Tess?" There was such an air of sadness that I was desperate to throw my arms around him, draw him to my side and kiss it all away. But then I was the one causing him the pain, even if it was for his own good.
"Of course you can still see Tess. Just tell me whenever and you can take her out whenever you want. Eric, please this isn't the end, just a sabbatical, that's the best way to see it.
He nodded and swallowed hard. "Yes, right. Well, I think your foot will be okay." He removed the defrosting bag of peas that had been sitting in a damp cloth on my ankle all this time. "I had better let you go. Goodnight Ali." And with those words he got up and walked out the room, shutting the door behind him.
"Liar, liar, pants on fire," I muttered the playground chant to myself as I lay there, knowing the pain I was causing the man next door. The only way I could reassure myself that it was for the best; is that my heart hurt twice as much.
I was true to my word and the next day starting to look for a flat. My increase in salary now that I was a principle meant that I was able to afford a small maisonette in south-west London with the tiniest second bedroom that was just about big enough for Teresa's cot.
I used our summer break to do it up and move in, sort through the chaos of relocating to a new area and find a nursery and nanny for Teresa. It kept me very busy so that I did not have the chance to rest as I had hoped. Eric had helped slightly, mainly moving my meagre possessions from his flat to my new house.
The journey across town took over an hour, leaving little doubt that he would not be popping over most evenings. When he had finally moved the last of my boxes and bags from his car into my living room, he paused, his tall lanky frame taking up the tiny space.
"Well, I guess that's everything," he gestured to the chaos around him. "I had better let you get sorted." He scooped Tess off the floor, where she was sitting and cuddled her close, repeatedly kissing her blonde curls. She laughed in reply, patting his masked face with her hands.
"Da, da, da," the garbled words came out with a giggle, causing Eric and I to freeze. Oh god, why would she have to come out with those words at that particular moment? I watched as Eric hugged my daughter even closer, a couple of tears leaking out of his eyes as he placed another kiss to her tangled locks. He handed her back to me and pressed a kiss to my forehead before turning and fleeing our little house without another word.
The misery and the loneliness of those first couple of weeks were almost more then I could bear and it took immense self control to prevent me from picking up the phone and calling Eric, admitting I had made a terrible mistake and begging that we could return to his welcoming arms.
But I had learnt to live with pain. Firstly the physical pain of dancing, the agony of blistered feet; bleeding toes and twisted muscles. Secondly the heart wrenching despair of abandonment. My mother, my father and then the man I thought I loved. I was used to picking up the pieces, straightening my spine and getting on with life.
If I thought my days had been hard before, now they were almost impossible. Waking with my very active daughter at six and chasing her around the house until it was time to bundle her into her pram and drop her off at the local nursery I had found.
Taking classes and rehearsals all day and sometimes performing late into the evening meant that at times I barely had six hours sleep a night. Not only did I miss the companionship that Eric offered, but I also began to realise the immense contribution he made to helping me raise my daughter.
Instead I was at the mercy of a day nursery and the slightly surly help of a variety of supposed nannies, all who did not seem old enough or experienced enough to be charged with looking after my daughter. Still, I remained silent, paid the agency that provided them through the nose and continued to smile through the pain.
However it would seem that the difficulties in my life did not reflect in my dancing. Plaudits were heaped on James and I after our opening night of Romeo and Juliet and secretly I could not help but wallow in the praise. After all this is what I had been dancing for every day of my life for as long as I could remember.
The next day, I sat in my small dressing room after class, reading the reviews that the publicity department had kindly photocopied for me as a memento of the triumph of the night before. Four curtain calls had been demanded from the audience and the newspapers echoed their enthusiastic praise.
A light knock sounded against my partially open door and it swung open before I could utter a word of welcome. James strolled into my dressing room, dressed like me in his practice clothes; his muscles pumped from the past hour and a half of exercise.
"Good reviews aren't they," he said perching against my dressing table and gazing down at me. As I was seated he had the advantage over me and so I simply flashed him a brief smile. After our accomplishments last night I could not find the energy or reason to be sour with him.
For those few hours on stage he was once again my lover, tender gentle and caring and I basked in his attention and kindness – which obviously transmitted itself into the dancing, hence the glowing reviews. "They are very complimentary about you," he continued, grabbing the paper from my hand. I like this bit in particular. 'MacMillan's Juliet might have been made on Christine de Theale, whose delicacy, vulnerability, sensitivity and lightness make her an exquisite exponent of the role. It takes great acting talent to bring out the rich palette of emotions in MacMillan's subtle choreographing of the part, which is wonderfully restrained and contained' blah blah blah."
I smiled at his summary whilst blushing; it was a very kind review. "They spoke of you well too," I credited him.
"They spoke of us well Al," he corrected, using his old nickname for me. "This is us, this is what we hoped and dreamed for. I mean look here, 'what is so impressive is the way in which the steps become an expression of their emotional states. Lexington throws off tours en l'air as if they were the only way to communicate his happiness. De Theale makes standing on pointe an action of delight.' That's the Telegraph and then in the FT whathisface says, '' he plays with entire naturalness, dances with stunning power, and as the evening progresses, starts to inhabit his role with a clear sense of Romeo's nature: the great bedroom duet in Act 3 was superbly done by him and the passionately involved De Theale, whose sensual awakening seemed marvellously to engulf them both.' Don't you realize, we've made it, we have arrived!
I swallowed a laugh at his drama; it had always been his way on and off the stage. "Yes totally," I agreed as politely as I could. "Look James, I would love to stay here and talk all day, but I really need to get going, sorry."
"Oh," his naturally puppy dog good looks sunk. "What do you have to do?" I gave a sigh.
"Teresa!" I tried to keep as much sarcasm as possible out of my voice. James seemed almost blissfully unaware of her presence. He seemed to have limited his role to a purely creational one only.
"Right, okay." He stood up and paused facing the door, "Do you think I could come and meet her?" It was his little boy lost voice.
"She's you're daughter, you have every right to meet her." I tried to keep my tone level, friendly even. It took my nails digging into my palms to achieve it. "Why don't you go and get changed and I'll meet you out front in fifteen minutes? I have to get back by 12:30 as she is only in nursery for half a day."
He frowned briefly obviously confused by the complexity of the childcare arrangements, it didn't surprise me. Instead I gave him a friendly push on his bottom. "Go and if you are not there when I am, I will leave without you!"
"Okay, okay." He grumbled leaving the dressing room with a shout of welcome to another dancer. I sighed and shook my head my head again, not sure if I should be amused or annoyed.
Surprisingly he was out in front, sitting on the steps, basking in the sunshine like an oversized cat. There was a certain feline grace to him and I enjoyed a few moments of unobserved watching.
James had always been good looking with his thick dark hair curling slightly around his head and deep blue eyes. His muscles were long and hardened, making him quite tall for a dancer and his mouth had a certain degree of pout to it, he claimed from his Gallic ancestry.
I felt a familiar tug as I saw him roll his shoulders with indolent ease, a tug that changed to a stab as it was joined by a flirting smile; aimed at two young, long-legged girls walking by. Some things never changed.
Ready?" I marched up to him, my voice rougher then I meant it to be. Even though I had no claim on him, nor did I wish to, it still irked me to see him behaving in his usual bimbo way.
"Err, yeah, sure." He gracefully hopped to his feet, linking his arm with mine, ignoring my grimace. "Lead on McDuff." This time I didn't bother to hide my groan as I hastened my stride towards the bus stop.
Of course Tess took one look at the strange man standing by her buggy and immediately buried her face into my shoulder, clutching her chubby little arms around my neck in a death grip. She was rather wary of men in the first place and except for Eric and his father, did not have much contact with them. Therefore to have this man stick his manically grinning face inches from her own, was enough to make her burst into big noisy sobs.
"What did I do?" James drew back in alarm, his face an amusing expression of panic.
"Just be yourself, you can't expect her to fall into your arms. You have to earn a child's trust, it is not easily given.
"Okay, I think I can do that. What, you think she'll like me by the end of the day?" I shrugged. How was to know how long it would take for Tess to trust her birth father. I didn't trust him!
Five hours later we were not much further. Tess sat as far away from the sofa where James was sprawled as was possible. She regarded him with a wary look as she sat there, chewing on her teethers and occasionally bating the toys on her swinging arch. With a negligent air she rolled over on to her front and gazed up at him, a little frown gathering between her eyebrows as if she could not quite understand why this man was bothering to stay.
Time dragged on and despite all my hints James refused to leave. He sat at the table and watched as I gave Tess her supper, sniggering slightly in an immature fashion as he watched her spit out most of what when in her mouth. I just ground my teeth together and tried not to say anything.
I was at the point of despair and just about to demand that he leave when we interrupted by a knock on the door. Lifting Tess on to my hip I wandered over and opened it, only to be greeted by a huge bunch of flowers. My frown of confusion was brief for they were moved aside and I saw the masked visage of Eric, brandishing them.
"Congratulations Ali," he said bending down and kissing my cheek, his broad smile fading slightly as I didn't step back to let him in.
"Just to warn you, I have company," I said in a low whisper, fixing him with an intent stare.
"Oh, is this a bad time, do you want me to come back…" He half turned in the door as if he was considering leaving.
"No, no," I grabbed his shirt to prevent him, as Tess leant out her arms, unaware of the hard concrete in the space between us.
"Da, da, da," she chanted, her unusually solemn face once again breaking into her dimpled smile. Eric grabbed her with a well practiced arm as I took the flowers from him, both of us doing an awkward little dance as we juggled what we held. We turned and saw that James was still sitting at the table watching our antics.
"Al?" he questioned, taking Eric in with an unfriendly gaze, his eyes obviously travelling from his masked face down his body, taking in his bandages under his short sleeved t-shirt.
"Oh sorry James, Eric St. John of Gin Sounds and my ex flatmate. Eric, this is James Lexington my dance partner." I stressed the words, trying to get through James' lead lined skull that there was no more to our relationship.
"Alright," James nodded tersely at Eric, no doubt riled by the way in which he comfortably held Tess. She sat on his hip, one arm curled across his back and her thumb in her mouth, leaning her head against his chest.
Eric's lips twitched slightly as he looked me, although I couldn't tell if it was in amusement or not. He nodded to the huge bouquet I held in my arms. "I'd put those in some water if I were you," was his only comment.
"Oh yes, of course." My eyes fell to the complex and beautiful arrangement of roses, lilies, hypericum, tulips and bear grass all skilfully bound together with raffia, the sight lighting up my face. He knew how much I loved flowers and until now, I had rarely received them. Such gifts were not given to the corps.
I strained my ears for sounds of arguing and fighting as I searched through the near empty cupboards for anything I could put the flowers in to, settling for a water jug in the end, and carried them back; placing them in the middle of the table as a barrier to the two men potentially hitting each other.
The look of dislike, bordering on hatred on James' face was clear, where as Eric's visage remained bland, even his lips, which a tendency to tighten and narrow in fury remained relaxed. It probably helped his ego that Tess clung to him like a monkey.
"Shall I give her a bath?" he questioned me, ignoring the other man in the room when I remerged from behind the blooms.
"Hmm? Yeah, that would be great, thanks Eric." I gratefully flashed him a smile. If he had his hands full with my daughter I could be busy getting rid of her father.
"Why didn't you ask me to do that?" James grumbled sulkily from his seated position, arms crossed against his chest, having waited until Eric was out of the room.
"Because you didn't offer and because you don't know how," I muttered throwing my hands up in the air. God give me strength. "Look James, I think it is time you went home, you've been here all afternoon and we have rehearsals most of tomorrow, go and get some sleep or something."
I pushed him unsubtly, forcing him to rise from the chair. "You just want me out the way so you can have sex with that weirdo boyfriend of yours," he sneered in a juvenile manner, causing me to huff in exasperation. I could feel the beginnings of a pressure headache building just dealing with his mulish and insulting behaviour.
"Just get out!" I pointed towards the door. "Out, now," I repeated as I watched him open his mouth to argue, my voice louder then I realised for just as James made a reluctant move towards the front door Eric emerged at the doorway into the small hall that separated the living and sleeping areas, drying his hands on a towel. He said nothing but stood there observing my ex-boyfriend walk away from me, playing to an audience with woe laden steps, his face a picture of rejected sorrow.
"Sleep well both of you," he said sarcastically as he opened the front door and slammed it shut behind him, leaving the pictures to sway on the walls and the noise vibrate through the paper thin walls."
"Rather over-dramatic isn't he?" Eric commented, as he watched the final act of the evening leave my flat.
"Horrendously. He cannot separate reality from being on stage. And to think I use to find it amusing!" Tess ready for the bath?"
"Mmm, but I wanted you to see something first," he commented with a slight smile, raising a large warm hand up to my shoulder and massaging the tightness with his fingers, before steering me to her tiny bedroom.
My daughter was on her change mat on the bedroom floor, stripped to her nappy, resolutely focusing on the teddy bear that sat two feet away. In front of my astounded and happy gaze, she gingerly reached up with one hand and grasped the bar of her cot, before placing the other on the bar next to it and pulling herself up to standing. She looked over at us, her gummy smile with the three little teeth protruding out of it.
I was torn, as so often, between a belly of laughter and cheering and a tearing ache as I realised that each achievement she made carried her one step further away from being my little baby.
"Bravo darling," I applauded her as she stood, legs bowed, her hands going white from the pressure of holding on. Obviously enjoying the limelight as much as her mother she released her death grip and moved out into the main arena of her bedroom, promptly falling over as she had not achieved the balance and stability necessary for such a feat. Her face held a look of pure shock before she screwed it and burst into tears.
With a shout of laughter, Eric scooped her up into his arms and hugged her close, where the tears soon ceased as she cuddled against his chest, squealing in delight as he buried his masked face into her stomach. I clung on to both of them, realising that I had missed these moments the past few weeks we had been by ourselves. Our fledgling family had been broken apart by my stubbornness.
When we finally got her to bed, I slipped out of her room and into the living room. Eric was sitting on the couch, a glass of wine in his hand. He had happily made himself comfortable in my little house and sat there, a vague smile on his face as he looked at me standing in the doorway.
"I'm sorry about earlier," I finally said, trying to find words that would apologise without being too encouraging.
"Don't be," he shrugged. "It was very refreshing to meet the…" He trailed off and looked at me.
"Don't say competition. That's too clichéd, too predictable. Besides he's not."
"Not what?"
"Not the competition, not that there is any competition. However he was rude and as usual fantastically immature. Unfortunately being Tess' biological father he has a right to see her."
"Hmm, can see the problem. Would you like a glass of wine?" He gave a slight yawn.
"Yeah okay, why not?" I wasn't dancing for another few days and suddenly felt like collapsing with a glass. He had read my thoughts and with a flourish picked up an empty glass and poured me some wine, beckoning for me to come and join him on the couch.
Alarm bells rang in my ears as I accepted the wine from his hand, my fingers momentarily brushing the soft repaired skin. As I looked into his eyes, I chose to ignore their demanding toll and curled up next to him on the couch. It therefore seemed natural for him to wrap his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in closer to him, so that my head was resting on his shoulder.
I fitted comfortably into his side, cuddled up, safe warm and loved. Oh so loved. He had never actually spoken the words directly to me, but it was there in all his thoughts and actions and when I allowed myself to live the fantasy, it was sheer heaven.
I had never known love and companionship as he offered. It had been sadly absent in my family. My father too wrapped up in his own selfish ways to see beyond the basic physical needs of his family. Too many times I had returned home from school during the holidays to find my only company the housekeeper.
Even my mother had not seen me for years and communicated mainly by stilted letter and the occasional birthday and Christmas card. She had flown over to watch my first true performance as a member of the corps, but our time together left us both fractious and uneasy. We did not know how to be mother and daughter anymore.
In the dysfunctional world I had grown up, my brother had fallen between the cracks as well. I found my family in the dressing room and practice classes. The people that applauded and congratulated me were the audience and it was my teachers that cheered me on, otherwise I had always looked out for myself.
Therefore I found his overwhelming passion, however silent quite alien. Rather like an elephant sitting in my living room, it was just as strange to me and it was easier to tiptoe around it and pretend it wasn't there then try and accept it.
The only trouble was that Tess changed the whole equation. If it had just been me, well I would never have been in that darn coffee shop in the first place, but even then I could have probably resisted Eric's charm. But my daughter changed everything. The one person I would happily do anything for, from pulling silly faces to lying down in front of a bus to save her, I would do it. She was my centre and my gravity and to know that there was someone else in the world who felt the same way about her was a powerful emotion.
And here I was cuddled into his side, wondering what to do next.
"You reviews were glowing," he said quietly, lightly tracing the fingertips of his free hand up my arm.
"You shouldn't read them in front of an iridescent light then," I quipped, causing him to snort with laughter.
"That's bad Ali," he shook his head and reached to the floor for his abandoned glass, holding it up to the light and looking at the deep claret swirling around the crystal. "You didn't mind me coming over tonight?"
"Should I mind?"
"I don't know, I just wasn't sure if you wanted to see me; that's all. You've been rather quiet the past few weeks."
"I've been rather busy the past few weeks. If I thought I worked hard before, I never had to fill a principle role. It's exhausting! Exhilarating, but exhausting."
"Hmm," was the only noise to escape his mouth, obviously realising that I was evading the true question, as was my norm. He took a sip of wine again. "And now we have a decision to make."
I leant away from his embrace, my face a picture of confusion, unsure what he meant exactly, what options he was talking about. He turned and looked at me and once more I was annoyed at how well the mask hid his features, pushed them into neutrality. "What do you mean?" I was unsure if there were to be more declarations of love. In my current mood I actually felt like accepting him.
"Well, we can finish this bottle of wine together, possibly open another, get quite tipsy, go to bed and make love like we never made love before. Or," he paused and took another sip, savouring the moment of making me wait. "I could finish this glass of wine and leave you with your virtue untouched by me."
"It isn't a difficult option the way you present it," I answered levelly, not wanting to give him any sort of ammunition, or show him I was thawing in the possibility of letting him into my bed.
"It doesn't matter either way, I will be gone tomorrow and you will be rid of me again." He said it quite casually, settling back into the cushions as he did so, so that it took a moment for the impact of what he said.
"Going? Going where?"
"Away." He shrugged. "To somewhere remote so I can be alone to compose, to find myself to heal and recover. You've made it quite clear to me Ali that you want nothing more then friendship and so whilst I will always be your friend; I also need to do something for me."
"What, what do you mean? When will you be back?" I was trembling at the thought of loosing him out of my life. It was horrendous the idea that he would no longer be there for Tess; for me. "When are you going? Why?" He sighed indulgently at my confusion.
"Away. Scotland, the Bahamas, a desert island all my own," he replied flippantly, before turning and truly facing me, watching as the threatening moisture in my eyes welled over and ran down my cheek. He reached up and touched his finger to it. "I need to get away Ali," he said; his voice suddenly strained. "I will always think of you and I will always," he hesitated.
"You will always what?"
"I don't know if I should say it, last time you nearly hit me." A slight grin at his words made me realise what he was going to utter.
"No don't say it." The tears were running fully down my cheeks now and he reached up, wiping his hands over my face, brushing them off, before he bent down and kissed me fully on the lips.
"You know how I feel about you Ali and when you know how you feel about me, maybe then I will come back." The corner of his mouth lifted in a humourless smile. And seeing as you won't take me up on my first suggestion, I had better leave now; before you change my mind. He kissed me again, tenderly lovingly before rising off the sofa. "Good luck darling, I will miss you and Tess."
"Eric – wait. I…" But I was too late for he had walked out the door and shut it behind him.
And with that he was gone – possibly for good.