Page 85 of The First Time I Saw You
‘Lovely way with words, she has Sammy, lovely way,’ Mam gushes.
Bret continues: ‘I want to tell you how much I love him, but love isn’t a big enough word. Love is only four letters: it isn’t enough to describe the feeling that bubbles up inside me when I listen to him talking about his family; love isn’t big enough to describe the way I feel when I recognise his traits as well as my own, like how I know he never nods just once, but always in threes—’
‘Oh, you do do that, Sammy,’ Sarah butts in. ‘You always nod three times. We used to think you had a twitch, didn’t we, Mam?’
‘We did, love, you’re right.’
Bret carries on, ignoring the ramblings of my family. ‘How I know that when he falls asleep he always sighs five minutes later—’
Isabella snorts, ‘You do . . . a bit quicker than that if you’ve just—’
‘How do you know that, love?’ Mam asks. ‘Oh. I—’ I feel Mam wafting her hand in front of her face.
Da laughs. ‘Mrs M, you do turn a lovely shade of pink when you’ve put your big foot in your mouth!’ Bret shuffles the paper. ‘Sorry, Bret lad, you carry on,’ Da instructs.
‘Where was I? Right;he always sighs five minutes later, and that he always eats his crusts before he eats the rest of his toast.’
‘That’s because you always wanted curly hair, love.’
‘Shush!’ Sarah commands.
‘Love doesn’t tell you how I feel when I lean against him, how he fixed me when I didn’t even know I was broken. I know what you must be thinking – if you loved him that much why did you leave him . . . and the answer is simple really. I didn’t want to break him. He was already perfect: he had no cracks; nothing about him was brittle or damaged; he was everything I wasn’t. And then he met me, and I began to chip away at him; tarnished something that was pure and fun and caring and loving and instead made him angry and bitter.
‘It’s taken me a long time to find the person who is writing you this email, to be able to accept that what he saw in me was there after all. It was just that he was the only one who could see it.’
Bret stops for a moment. ‘Do you want me to carry on?’
I nod; words lie unspoken on my tongue for the moment. Sophie’s smile as she held her family lingers and confuses me.
‘I know now that I won’t break him. I know this time I can fix the damage; I know this time that when he looks at me, I won’t feel like an imposter. He was the only person who could see me when I was blind to everyone else.
‘There is something else I need to tell him, Bret, something that will hurt him, but I know he will understand, I know he will be able to forgive me, but please, I’m begging you, please give him the chance to choose me.’
The paper crackles as he folds it, and the air stills, waiting for my reaction.
‘When did she send it?’ my voice asks. It feels detached from me; my mouth has a life of its own. The rest of my body is numb, but the words jump from my tongue and my voice carries the words around the room and across the world.
‘Last week. I take it you changed your mind about seeing her after we last spoke?’
‘No, no . . . I saw her all right.’ My mouth opens and closes, and the words escape without my control. ‘She’s pregnant.’
‘Whoa. Whoa . . . pregnant? Is it yours?’
Isabella shifts towards me and Da lets out a long sigh.
‘No,’ I say, not wanting to let that tiny bit of doubt unravel what I know I need to do.
‘Are you sure, because I’m no mathematician, but man, it could be yours, couldn’t it?’ Bret leans forward, optimism clinging to his words.
‘She, look, it doesn’t matter. I saw her with another man, she was happy; they were a family.’
‘Then why would she send this?’ I hear Bret wave the piece of paper about and see a glimpse of white flashing across the screen.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Maybe she’s having problems with the new one, Sammy?’ Da adds.
‘Sam,’ Isabella says softly, ‘that doesn’t sound like an email from somebody having a few problems. It sounds like an email by somebody who is in love with you.’
