Matty's POV
~Past tense~
March
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The walk back to the car after that argument is a solemn one, one where I replay every bad decision and let it take over my brain to the point of not even being able to think straight. So I've blown it I think to myself as I take a seat in the 4x4 and wonder how I could have possibly made that any worse. In what world did I become the aggressor and Jay the rescuer.
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The silence of the car attacks me as I sit there with the key engaged in the lock feeling like I cannot bear to be in it without her sitting next to me. I engage the key in the ignition, and the car starts up. Reversing out the bay I set on getting myself home to the place that reminds me of her and of us. Our place by the woods with her clothes and stuff still in the drawers upstairs.
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The highway is utterly free of cars, and I find myself sitting with my feelings and my regret as I idle the car back to my junction. Thinking of all of the possible outcomes to this situation that I would have preferred. Ones where Taylor didn't leave me in tears, ones where I hadn't brought up the miscarriage like a bargaining chip. Where we could still amicably talk to one another rather than her looking at me like I'm an absolute monster.
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The pain and the sadness in her eyes haunts me as I park in our driveway. Killing the engine and leaving the lonely car behind. Opening up the door to our home I take in the silence, the empty home which is gloomy and dark. No noise, or laughter. No Taylor walking around the kitchen singing whilst cooking.
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Taking a seat in our living room and gazing at the unlit fire, I sit there with my regrets and misery. My mind travels over the conversation we had about the babies and how she see's it as her own fault; I would never put that on her. After the miscarriage I walked myself down a very destructive path daily by getting up and downing Brandy like it was the only thing to stop my brain hurting and my heart aching. Instead of showing her the care she needed and being present within our relationship I turned to the bottle.
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That's utterly the problem here, I tell myself, she has confided in Jay about the difficult time we experienced and because he listened. Because he cared and held her like I should have been doing the entire time, in her mind I have become the problem. Not somebody she can confide in or somebody that supports her.
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However, as I pull myself up to standing and pace down the hall through our kitchen to collect some firewood from near my back door. Hiking the logs over my shoulder and pulling them into the open fireplace in the living space, I spark the fire and feel the warmth emanate through me. I cannot and will not accept that this is the end for us.
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Jay is manipulative, he has been playing all of the right cards whilst I have been out of the picture. However I know that he is incapable of holding down a relationship, unable to keep up this façade for any amount of time. He can't comprehend a relationship, he can't put in the hard work and dedication. He is not deep enough for any of that. Jay is shallow, he will take what he wants until he loses interest. It's his pattern, and I've seen him do it many times before. It's a cruel twist of fate that he must do it to the love of my life. That I must sit and watch her fall for him like every girl does and then see him discard her.
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I had contemplated leaving, skipping town in my 4x4 depending on the outcome of today. I would load up the car with my belongings, lock up the house and leave for another place. Somewhere away from her in order to forget her so that she is not so present in my mind. However, the problem I have now is that she left me for Jay. That changes things for me, he will hurt her. Had she of left me for Ross maybe I would consider leaving. Ross would keep her forever if she decided to give him a chance. Jay will not be able to stay faithful and as I sit by my fire trying to calculate how long it will take him to mess things up, my phone goes off.
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Hey man, is it possible to arrange a time to collect Taylor's belongings? I know this is a difficult situation and I appreciate that. I'm sorry too for everything, including everything you went through. But if you could let me know then I'll pick it up and move it to dorms for her. Jay.
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My eyes go over the message, realising that she didn't even want to message me. I reply curtly, a message telling him that he may collect it all tomorrow.
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Climbing the stairs of our house, that lead up to the large hall and our bedroom, I open the door and take in the bedspread which she picked out. Her T-shirt in which she used to sleep sprawled out over her pillow. I no longer sleep in the bed, because the memories here for me are the most evocative. I fear if I sleep here I will wake up reaching out for her, and so I do not take my chances, instead I sleep on the sofa downstairs.
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Pulling her large sports duffle bag out of the oak wardrobe, I fold all of her clothes one by one and place them inside. Emptying the drawers and the cupboards, and once I look over the empty drawers and wardrobe space it becomes real. It becomes permanent, that she is not in my life anymore.
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Grasping a second bag, I wipe my face and pack up her jewellery and hair brushes. All of the stuff that was on top of the dresser. Her hair tongs that used to make me laugh, now just make me weary remembering a time that I used to watch her do her hair and we used to have a joke about them.
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Her engagement ring, shimmers on the side and I eye it temporarily frozen. How she proudly wore it on her finger, telling me that she would be my soul mate forever. I place it in its velvet box and put it in the bag for her to decide what she would like to do with it.
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Forcing myself to sit down on the bedside, and holding the shirt in my hands that she once wore every night to bed. Thoughts of her wearing it whilst we cooked, whilst we made love, whilst we did the simple things like watching the flatscreen together. The way she would tie her hair up and smile at me, her embrace and the way she would always lay in my arms every night. Waking up with my arms around her, feeling my skin against hers. As tears stream down my face, I realise that Taylor is the first woman I've cried over.
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Pulling myself together I place the shirt in the bag. Change the bed sheets and declare to myself that I will sleep in my bed. That my bed was here before Taylor and so I will just sleep in it and remember those times instead of all of the times that I kissed her at night watching her sleep.
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Taking a piece of paper and an envelope, I spend hours writing everything. Everything that I feel for her, everything that I miss about us. How sorry I am for causing her pain. How I would never ever mean to do that to her. I ask her to do as she pleases with the ring, keep it or sell it if she really doesn't want it. I end it letting her know that whilst she wants to be out of my life, for me I will always have space for her, I will always be waiting for her to come back to me. I sign it off and place it with the shirt.
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Realising it's midnight I place everything down in the hall ready to be picked up tomorrow. And coffee is never a good idea before sleep but I find myself in the kitchen firing up the machine whilst I gaze over at the mantelpiece. The collection of photos, all of them including Taylor. And at the centre of all of them; the direct focal point of the fireplace is our scan picture from the twins. Possibly the last time we shared together where we were totally free of any misery. Where we had a future with one another. My mind goes over that day whenever I look at the picture framed on my mantelpiece. How we discovered that we were actually having two babies instead of one, the smile on her face as she held me after the news.
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The coffee machine beeps pulling me out of my daydream as I jump, taking the mug and retreating upstairs. Away from the memories of our almost future. Despite the caffeine I fall asleep instantly in my bed that no longer smells of Taylor’s sweet perfume. Somehow I know everything is going to be okay even if she does still occupy every single one of my dreams.
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