Synopsis: Four years after suddenly losing her beloved husband, Elspeth has mastered the art of moving forward without truly moving on. She fills her days with routines, the nights with memories, and tells herself that she had her love, and is now content without more. But when an unexpected connection stirs something dormant within her, Elspeth is forced to confront the possibility that life after loss does not mean a life without love. As she navigates the delicate balance between honouring the past and embracing the future, as well as who she is now as a person, she must decide if her heart is ready for its second act.
The selection was there before her, right before her eyes. Why was the decision so hard? It shouldn’t be. Such a ridiculous subject for one to feel such inner torment over. But nevertheless, a decision had to be made. Elspeth reached for the coffee jar instead of the tea. The choice had been finalised. Softly, she chuckled aloud to herself over the sheer internal drama of which beverage to choose from to accompany her breakfast. How ridiculous really.
Her day continued like any usual Wednesday. The centre point of the week was always the busiest, and for everyone it seemed. Traffic was fuller, parking was scarce. She always thought that it paid to be ahead of time on the Wednesday of each week. Her mind was just a busy. As she sat within the meeting, she gave herself a moment. The thumb and finger of her right hand played with the ring on her left middle finger, slowly turning it as her ears screened the words of her coworker, on the listen for anything urging whilst her mind had a quick interval. Her eyes were upon the ring she was playing with, next to her unoccupied ring finger. The meeting concluded and Elspeth continued the rest of her workday, before stopping momentarily at the supermarket for a quick dinner shop on her way home. As per routine, upon her return, the diary products from her shop were refrigerated right away, a tea was made, and then she sat herself down upon the couch and turned the television on to the usual quiz show that was enjoyed in her household. She answered the questions she knew and even guessed the ones she didn’t. Her eyes drifted to the remainder of the empty couch. She sipped her tea, and as she sipped, she felt that familiar feeling. She hadn’t had one of these nights in quite sometime. But here it was. She had learned by now to just let it flow; let it pass without resistance. For it was all part of it.
Dinner was made, a pasta, with the aid of some Roxy Music within the background. “More than this…”. Elspeth lit a candle for the table where she soon sat to eat her main and only course. How unavoidable it was for her eyes to fall upon the empty seat across from her. A faint smile of nostalgia laid across her lips. She folded laundry from the couch as she watched another episode of a new series she had had suggested to her. It was interesting enough. Enough to give her some form of stimulation before she went about her nighttime routine, and then climbed in between her bedding with her hot water bottle. Her eyes gazed towards the ceiling; white with shadowing from the plant next to her bedside lamp. She took a moment, knowing that the next moment was enviable. It was just one of those nights. She opened the bottom drawer next to her bed and pulled out the framed photograph. She laid back, her head resting against the olive-green pillow, as she looked upon the photograph that she had gone a couple of weeks now without looking at. No similar photos had gone up in her new home when she moved here two years ago. It was a fresh start after all. But this one remained and only ventured out of the bottom draw when needed.
“Hello, my love”, the words whispered softly from her lips as her eyes gazed lovingly over the features of the man in the photo. There was such tender love within his blue eyes that was directed at her when she was behind the camera in this moment. Her fingertips traced over the smooth glass. Her eyes were closed as she pulled up the old memory of what it felt like to trace his features, over his thin lips, up and along his prominent nose. She could feel it, as if he were here, his lips and nose warm under her fingertip. Her eyes opened once again upon the framed photograph. She took her time with observing but soon moved to place the framed picture of her Thomas under the pillows of the side of the bed that was once his. She moved to her side, her hand resting upon the pillow how it once did upon his chest.
“I rather missed you today”, she whispered again. Sleep was near, and as she closed her eyes she relieved moments of her day that would have been if fate, or whatever, had had a different plan. She saw and heard Thomas chuckling as he watched her trying to decide whether to have tea or coffee with breakfast, for he had always laughed at her indecisiveness. She saw herself playing with her wedding rings within her meeting. She saw him and her sitting upon the couch together with their tea while watching their favourite quiz show, together after work. She heard him select his favourite band to play in the background as they made dinner together. And then she saw, and felt, the both of them within the bed at the end of the night. Bare, skin to skin, as their slow kisses proceeded with further need for one another. Limbs tangled, pants against lips and the soft nape of a neck.
Lingering within the space between wake and sleep, it was so easy to feel him here. Maybe this was where he was? She hadn’t felt brave enough thus far to visit a medium and enquire. She had never believed in such ‘silly rot’, that she had once titled all things mystic. But since the sudden passing of her Thomas, her opinions of such things had relaxed. For she felt him at times, as if he was right here. But she didn’t enquire or actively research anything to do with an afterlife. If he was there, he was there. But this was where she had to meet him now, and the easiest route to get there was right before she dozed off, as if the veil was thin.
The memories of their last moments together didn’t plague her as much now when she was actively losing herself in the fantasy of his presence. Death wouldn’t intrude, her mind just let her be. Her mind let her feel him and see him as he was, as they were, without the painful scenes of their unexpected, sudden goodbye. But occasionally, she saw it again: that Thursday, their final making of love that morning, her arriving home first, the pan in the oven, the vegetables prepared, his message that he was on this way home and would stop for the milk momentarily, time continuing, no key in the front door, cold feeling in stomach, time continuing, no answer to her message, time continuing, no answers from her call, full stomach ache, silence, flashing red and blue, then the doorbell.
She knew before she opened the front door. She didn’t want to know but she knew. That solemn look upon the faces of the officers, her turning off the oven, them driving, her familiar city now a complete blur, following footsteps, the silence of the hospital room, the stillness of her husband, the closed blue eyes that she would never see again. How could this all be? This man, this beautiful man who was her chosen partner for life, who was making love with her that morning, was up and walking, was teaching, was calling her at lunch how he did every day. How was this it? How was there no warning? How was her heart suddenly deceased upon this bed before her?
The call to his parents, them arriving, them distraught. The call to her sister, the arms of her sister. Back to him, asking him to wake up, begging him to wake up, then back home again. The quiet house. The ruined dinner now within and upon the cold stove. The cold bed. That was that. Nothing could be done. How quickly it all changed.
One thousand, four hundred and sixty-six days since, which was also yesterday. It did feel better now. Much better. But there were still moments, there were still days. Thomas would always be there. She now knew her love for him would never stop, leave or shrink, it had just transformed. The love would always be there. People in her life would now give her that sheepish look before asking that particular question that one dares brave enough to ask a widow or widower, and it was still a no. Not yet. She didn’t feel it within her. The concept was still unfathomable. But isn’t there always a slither of possibility within the confining depths of the certainty of no? Even if it is not seen or felt?
*
“Elspeth?”, the deeper voice came from down the other end of the isle.
“Will? Hi”, she smiled as she watched him make the walk closer. She thought that he was such a lovely man. Quieter, until you got to know him better, she had learnt since he had joined the bookclub seven months ago. “I assume you’re here for the same reason that I am?”. He chuckled quietly and did that thing where he smiled but looked down to his feet before looking back up to her and answering. Was that shyness?
“Next months’ book? Have you seen the film?”. He was already holding a copy of The Great Gatsby in his hand, obviously perusing other categories in the bookshop before making his purchase, whilst she was perusing first and then was to stop by the Classics section at the end of her book shop.
“Yes. And yes I have seen the film and no, I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the actual way it was directed. It was weird. It felt too fast, but maybe that was the point?”, she laughed at her own snobbish confession on one of the greatest films of the twenty-first century. “But I’m sure the actual book will be better. Apparently, Scott Fitzgerald read Zelda’s diaries, and wrote Gatsby from her ideas, and then took all the credit”. She had read that recently when looking up reviews of the novel.
“Typical”, Will chuckled in reply as he looked at Elspeth. He looked to her hands and noticed that she hadn’t a copy, unlike himself. “There were only two copies on the shelf, let me go get the other one for you”. There was no time for her to say anything before he turned and made his way back to the classics section before returning, handing her the only other copy in the store.
“Thank you”, she smiled softly as him.
“No trouble at all”. There was a moment of silence as he pondered his next question, but then one of the shop assistants walked by them to let them know that the shop was closing in ten minutes. Elspeth thanked the woman for informing them. Will looked back to her, reconsidering his question before he just asked. “Do you… if you’re not busy right now…would you like to grab a bite together? And maybe we could chat about last months’ book, since I wasn’t at our last get together”.
“Oh yeah, you were sick. There have been so many bugs around. You’re feeling much better I hope?”. He smiled and looked back down to his shoes before looking back up to her, again. Were his shoes really that interesting?
“Much better now. Thank you. So…dinner? My treat”.
Dinner was had, as well as good conversation over the book that their bookclub had read the previous month. Elspeth and Will didn’t know that much of each other, apart from knowing each other’s current occupations over such light chat on the monthly get togethers. They had a grand time talking, and soon found themselves walking to a nearby bar for a drink in lou of dessert. The conversation was on subject of the upcoming international film festival, that they both seemed to be lovers of. Elspeth felt such an ease talking to Will. He held conversation well and asked engaging questions, and without asking the foreseen personals. But they are too inevitable.
An old acquaintance made her way over to Elspeth where she was sat with Will. There was the hello, the introduction, the general catch-up, and then that inevitable question of how she was now, accompanied by that look that was a mixture of concern and pity. Elspeth breathed in and held it as she smiled, nodded and said “yeah, really good”. The acquaintance did the whole “oh, I’m glad to hear”-thing while rubbing her arm, and then they said their goodbyes and the acquaintance left. Elspeth chuckled with a tinge of nerves and embarrassment and apologised to Will for the interruption and the odd change to the energy of the moment. He wanted to ask, she could tell he his interest had obviously been lured, but he didn’t ask. Not directly. Not with intention per say.
“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to that Irish film from the festival too. I would…. well, I would ask you if you would like to go together, but perhaps you and your partner would be uncomfortable with that”. Oh, wow, there it was. Was he sure that she was involved? Or was he fishing?
“Oh I….I’m….I don’t…that wouldn’t be an issue”. She could tell by his expression that he was trying to decipher her coded answer.
“So you’re…you’re single? I am surprised, to be honest, I had just assumed—”. She had never thought of herself as single since Thomas had died. Because she wasn’t. She would never be single again. She would always at least be a widow.
“Um”, she looked to the side of the bar as she contemplated her answer. “Ah… yeah, I…I guess I am”. He took a minute to think about her words.
“You… you don’t sound so convincing?”. He had never pegged her for the type to be sneaky. She was just private. Ok, it seemed she was just going to have to say it.
“Ah”, she laughed nervously. “Well I…”, she swallowed, then looked at him, wondering what his reaction would be, yet already knowing what his reaction would be, like everyone else’s. “I’m…technically…I’m a widow”. There there was, dawning upon his face. “And not the cool, marvel spy kind, I meant eh classic-dead spouse kind”, she joked nervously. “So yeah”.
“I’m…”. Here it came. “Elspeth… I’m so sorry”. She waved her hand a little. She had stopped herself from saying ‘it’s fine’ in reply to people when they said that they were sorry, because her grief wasn’t fine. Her loss was never fine. She worked consciously to replace it with a—
“Thank you. He passed away just over four years, so, it’s not too recent”. Will took a moment before he spoke his next words.
“You must have married young?”.
“Yes, I would have been…28, when we married, and then he passed a year later. Together four in total”. He looked at her. She could see the familiarity within his eyes that everyone had when they learnt of her loss. Everyone wanted to know every detail, it was only human too to so inquisitive, she had come to realise. Some asked, some didn’t. Of the one’s who asked, most asked with tact, some didn’t. It’s interesting how someone’s loss can feel like it becomes a public subject. But perhaps that’s just what people needed to do to process such a life event. Especially when they were of nil experience to it. The silver lining in these conversations for Elspeth, was when she saw that flicker of realisation of remembrance within people’s eyes; remembrance of gratitude, for their loved ones still being alive, and for themselves. Will really hesitated with the next question.
“Do you… do you mind if I ask how? It’s ok if you don’t want to say”.
“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind”. It was true, she didn’t mind answering that question now, especially as the how was a reminder to people of being careful with their actions and choices. But there was always a line in her comfortability in discussing Thomas’s passing, and the distance of such line would depend on the day. “Car crash. Thomas was hit by a drunk driver. He was killed instantly”. Once upon a time, she couldn’t say those words without feeling like her throat was closing over, in dire of emergency tracheostomy as her airway was suffocated by the physicality of grief. “He suffered no pain. So, silver lining, etc”. Will stayed silent for a moment, taking in the shocking story as well of how calmly she spoke of it.
“Bloody hell...”.
“Yeah”, she took a deep breath, maybe upon his behalf, and then laughed slightly with a therapeutic undertone. “Yeah…it was definitely quite a time”. She watched him, with that usual softer smile on her face. The smile that told of how humour helped her triumph such depths of grief. She gave him a moment to say something. Obviously, she knew well at this point that a lot of people needed a few seconds to think of the right words to say to her after they learnt of the details. It was like clockwork.
“That…I honestly don’t quite know what to say, Elspeth”, she waved his words off politely, her action saying that it was fine, she didn’t need words. Words wouldn’t rewind the past four years. Nothing would. And that was ok, now. “But I’m... I’m so sorry that you had to experience that. And so young….”. Such a word that was, and how opposite she felt. She was only thirty-three, but she felt seventy-three. Her mind imagined that movie, but instead of going from thirteen to thirty, she went to sleep in her late twenties and woke in her seventies, and there being no sexy young Mark Ruffalo as the best friend to lover, and obviously, still void of her Thomas.
It is interesting how grief ages one. If not physically, then most definitely internally. Grief drives us years ahead of our peers. Elspeth had learnt that. For now, she felt a sense of alien around many of her friends. Will just looked at her, his hazel eyes filling with remote remorse. She knew she had to step in now and raise the mood again.
“So yes, a film together…that could be nice”. She hadn’t dated since Thomas, and currently she wasn’t even looking at this cinema visit with Will as a date. But within her, there was a belief that even if she did want to move forward from Thomas, that her grief would be too heavy for a new partner. That the new partner would always feel the ghost of her deceased husband haunting their relationship. Silly, perhaps, but only time would tell, she guessed. But for now, Will was a friend with similar interests to her.
The mood was raised, a film from the film festival was agreed upon, and phone numbers were now officially exchanged. Will walked Elspeth back to her car near the bookshop and then she returned home. Their date, but not date, a friendly date, was set for late the following week. They had exchanged a few messages within that time, the first being from Will the following day after the unintended bookshop meet. Elspeth was surprised when that first message had popped up from him, seeing his name. It was weird, seeing another man’s name appearing on her phone like that. A name that was not Thomas. But it was also nice.
On the Saturday afternoon, Elspeth met Will at the theatre. The film was watched and then they went for coffee afterwards. The next week they attended another film together from the continuing festival, dinner afterwards and to share their film reviews with one another. Each time, she found herself genuinely laughing as her and Will conversed. As she drove home that night post their third meet, her chest felt tight.
“It’s ok”, she spoke to herself gently. “You’re allowed to laugh because of another man. You’re allowed to laugh”. Elspeth soothed herself after her familiar friend guilt, paid her a quick visit again. Guilt’s visits had slowed, and had become more infrequent. With help from a therapist, she had learned well what to do when those visits did occur, and she mastered them. But now, things were shifting, into a new phase where Elspeth would have to work through new forms of guilt…as she moved further away from Thomas.
Elspeth was hesitant to meet with Will again, but she did, and it was a lovely time. Another week, another film. Another dinner, more laughter. But then she felt herself pulling back again, because the presence of Will in her life was starting to emerge from the box of ‘friend’ that she had classed him into. Elspeth felt the subject, the feeling, and the desire for sex raise within her mind and body. She hadn’t meant to, it had only been just over a month of their friendship. She was just laying on the couch on that sunny Sunday afternoon, dozing with her book that was about to slide from her front, when she felt that warmth trickle itself throughout her body, causing her hips to slowly move. Behind her closed eyes, she saw herself, and she saw Will, and she heard a soft moan from her throat. Her eyes flew open as she bolted upright. There was shock before the guilt. But over that week, she let herself think about it. She had to, as it wouldn’t leave her mind or body.
“It’s ok. You’re allowed to feel this”, she reaffirmed to herself aloud. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t touched herself in that past four years. Of course she had. Not at first, not fro some time, and then when she did, she had thought of Thomas and cried. That eventually progressed to the fantasy of her once live husband and their shared orgasms, and no tears. It was only within the past year that she had let herself think of other men whilst her own hands roamed her body. But it was only male actors that she found herself attracted to, never actual men in her day-to-day life. Never.
Perhaps it didn’t help that there were some similarities, physical and personal, that both Thomas and Will shared. That thought plagued her, and she contemplated ceasing her newfound friendship with Will instantly and in time going for a man that was the complete opposite of her taste. But what would that achieve? With such force she would have to push herself through such an interaction. Her type was her type, and she reminded herself that that too was ok. She wasn’t trying to replace her Thomas. No one ever could. And it….it wasn’t about that. Elspeth now genuinely had the desire to….to possibly start something…new. She wanted it, she wanted to be touched, to be kissed, to be hugged, to be cuddled, to be pleasured. The desire for it all was becoming so overpowering.
Saturday morning and Elspeth was stood in front of the mirror in her hallway, taking deep breaths. The doorbell rang, it was Will. She had invited him over for morning-tea. He kissed her cheek hello and handed her the bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. They were beautiful, like a burst of colour within his palm. They had tea and ate some of the scones she had quickly made that morning. They chatted, sharing their distaste for people who put the cream before the jam, and talking about their working week. There were moments in-between words where they would just look as each other and smile. But the time soon came for her.
“I, um….”, her words stopped and she laughed nervously. She looked everywhere but at him, until he finally spoke.
“You?”, he tried resuscitating her sentence. She took a few extra moments, trying to organise her words. She looked back at him.
“I wanted to ask you something”. She had no idea what she was doing here. Flirting had never been an issue for her, with Thomas and pre-Thomas. But now, it was if it was a foreign language. His patience with her stood out again as he waited for her to speak. “I was wondering….if you… are attracted to me?”. Will felt the immediate increase in heart rate at her frank question. And of course, he answered her honestly after he remembered the daily, and much needed habit, of breathing.
“Yes…yes, I am attracted to you. I…I always have been”. She nodded gently and took some moments before asking her next question.
“Well, that’s good”, she chuckled lightly, nervously. “I…I have been thinking recently about…”, she titled her head to the side and smile nervously, “you know…. about sex”. She whispered that last word as if they were young adolescents discovering that word and definition for the first time. “I…I haven’t been with anyone since…since Thomas…. but recently, I’ve been thinking about it”.
“Oh”. Was all he could manage to say. What did oh mean? she wondered. Was this already too heavy for him? Knowing that he would be her first since her dead husband so perhaps there was already a sense that he had a lot to live up to. The there already expectation weeding away at his confidence and desire for her? Elspeth watched Will, reading his reaction, until he finally spoke again. “Well, I…I would…like to do that with you…. very much. If you would like to do that with me of course, if that’s what you are meaning here…”. He spoke softly and with pace in his words, even if this was something that he had already given thought to since meeting her those nearly nine months ago at the book club.
“Well, yes…. I would like…to do that…. with you”. She took a moment. “Would you like to come back later tonight then?”, Elspeth asked nonchalantly, as if scheduling a meeting in her diary. Will nodded.
*
It is of the utmost confusion when both guilt and desire swarms’ ones’ own body and mind. The number of times that Elspeth had picked up her phone throughout the remainder of the day to cancel was uncountable. But each time nervousness surged throughout her, she overcame it, and around eight that evening, he returned. He stood now in front of the closed front door, handing her the bottle of wine.
“Thank you. But I…well, I don’t mean to be so forthright, but I think that we should just get into it”, she spoke as she looked up into those his eyes, with identical nervousness. He nodded, before she took his hand and led him upstairs to her bedroom.
Elspeth did not want to think. She did not want too much space between action and word, for guilt would rush in to fill said space. They sat on the end of her bed and looked at one another before he began to slowly lean in for a kiss. She met him halfway. Rather surprisingly to Elspeth, she did not feel or see Thomas when she allowed the lips of another man finally touched hers. It was only Will. They were his lips; it was his taste. Different. It was the feeling of his hand coming up to gently cup her cheek. It was his mouth that she let her soft moan hum against. He spoke, reminding her that they could stop whenever, if it was all too much at any point. She knew that, and would stop things if needed. But that was not what she wanted. What she wanted was his touch.
The newly lovers soon found themselves completely bare alongside each other under her weighted, moss coloured, cotton duvet. He slowly made his way down her body, kissing soft kisses along the way. Her eyes fluttered closed and her head relaxed further back into the pillow, she exhaled deeply as she first felt the work of his mouth between her thighs. How blank her mind was in that moment. She reached down and felt the hair atop his head, her fingers gently threading through. She exhaled again. It felt lovely, it truly did. But her eyes opened as soon as her brain began to wander. No. She would not allow it. She could not.
“Come up here,” she whispered as she tapped his shoulders. He asked her if everything was ok, checking her comfortability as well as his technique. “Yes, yes it felt really good, I just…”, she pulled him down into a kiss. She didn’t want to explain, she just wanted to feel. She licked his lip, asking for more. Their kiss turned more passionate, and soon she pulled a condom out from under her pillow, which had been purposely placed there earlier whilst she paced around her bedroom on that verge of cancelling. There was a goodbye here. She could feel a door closing.
They started. It was slowed and paced. Filled with gentle touches and gropes, kisses, and tastings. At times she would look at him, at times her eyes would be closed. In between the realms of pleasure that were already flowing through his body at the feeling of her, he wondered if there was concentration or memory behind her closed eyes. But he did not mind. He just wanted her. He understood as well as he could. Truly, it was attention behind her closed eyes. She was attuning herself to the way he felt, the way he moved, the way he smelt. She could feel the heat within her beginning to pool. She wanted to stop it but also wanted it to surge. Her desire won. She just needed—
“Tell me I’m allowed this,” she whispered in soft pleas against his cheek. “Tell me that I’m allowed this.” They stopped moving. He lifted his face from her neck where it had been buried peppering kisses along the sensitive skin of her warm, flushed skin.
“…. of course you’re allowed this, Elspeth. You’re allowed to feel pleasure. You’re allowed to feel this”. She knew it. She just had to hear it from another in this moment. She nodded softly before their foreheads rested together. “Do you want to stop?”.
“No,” she spoke quickly. To stop was the last thing she wanted right now. “No. This feels...really good”. She kissed him, resuming their act.
There was a smile on her lips as she, and then they both finished. Achievement and pleasure. He kissed her gently afterwards and held her to his panting chest as they both came down. Her head resting where shoulder meets chest. Her left leg thrown over where thigh meets sex. As both his hands slowly, and softly, drew random patterns on both her arm and thigh, they rested within each others comfort and warmth. For Elspeth, as she laid there with her eyes joining the rest, her lips curled softly as she felt that achievement. Was it a tick off the list of resuming life post grief? Sort of. Kind of. If one had to boil it down to such a detached statement, then yes. But also, not.
Elspeth liked Will of course. He was a good human being. A good man. She laid there with him, letting herself sink into the feeling of being in the arms of a man again. But she felt it then, as if it were knocking on the door. It egged her on, it called. She tried to resist it but also wanted it. It was too attractive. She allowed it in. She allowed him in. She breathed Thomas, feeling his hand brushing along her thigh under the duvet, his other hand on her shoulder. She gave a small hum of comfort as she felt the side of his cheek against her forehead. She heard him, whispering her name, praising her and himself on their lovemaking. She felt his arms tighten around her, keeping her to him as if she was about to disappear…or as if he were about to be the one to disappear.
Elspeth was so relaxed within the arms of Thomas, that she had not heard Will ask her if she was ok until he asked her again. Her eyes flew open as she was yanked from that expired world.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was just…relaxing…this is nice”. She sounded convincing, enough for Will to hum in agreement and tighten his embrace around her.
Elspeth cried that night after Will had left and she was alone again. She thanked him as she walked him to the front door. He was surprised she didn’t want him to spend the night or to finally indulge in that wine together. It seemed he had he been too unrealistic to imagine them sipping at the wine and toasting together in her bed after the lovely sex they had. He checked in with her when he returned home, and she replied, politely, letting him know that she enjoyed it as well, with a smiley face to support her digital words. Elspeth had enjoyed sex with Will, very much, which was the problem. She had that cry in the shower that night. Both tears and water; running. It was done. That was that. Thomas, her beloved, was no longer the last man who had touched her. His touch no longer lingered upon her body, and she had been the one to make such decision. To wash him from her. Completely gone.
What had she done? How could she rewind this?
That night was hard, in second place perhaps to that first night she slept by herself on the day Thomas was killed. Elspeth cried and apologised as she looked at the photograph of him that she pulled back out from her bottom bedside drawer. Like the repetition of waves against the sand dune, time and self-patience had eroded at her grief. But guilt was like those speckles of sand that one finds in their hair, on their skin, and in the car after a beach visit. Every now and then…it appeared, just when you thought you were clean of it. But that night was if guilt was seeping from her pores. She spoke her affirmations of self-kindness and understanding that she was allowed to feel good. She was the one still living after all. But the response to Will’s last message stayed un-responded to for the following days. It wasn’t his fault, of course it wasn’t, and she hoped he knew that. It was clearly a needed time to process…as her desire for Will, had fortitude. And it was confusing, oh so, dreadfully confusing.
This place, this limbo where grief, guilt and desire meet and conspire; how is it humanly possible to withstand such a sensation?
“How is the Gatsby going for you?”, the message read. Finally. Yet the morning of the next reading group. There had been no war, but it was felt that a peace treaty had to be confirmed before seeing each other that night. Will smiled at her from across the table where glasses of wine and coffees and seven copies of the classic novel written by Zelda Fitzgerald —clears throat, pardon me— F. Scott Fitzgerald, laid. Why did everyone feel the need to bring their own copies that they had read? Prove that everyone had actually purchased and read the book? It wasn’t necessary in the slightest, but it was cute. Just one of those uniformed human moments.
“Some dreams are just unattainable”, Elspeth spoke as she shared her opinion, adding how she disliked the movie but enjoyed the novel. Some people just need words instead. A fond smile played upon the lips of Will, who sat across the table at her unconscious hint.
“Was it too much? Did you…not enjoy it? I’m sorry if—”, he finally asked her outside the cafe as they stood by their cars. He cut his apology off. It was most certainly not needed, yet proved his thought and empathy.
“No. No it wasn’t too much and I did enjoy it. Very much in fact”. She looked up into those eyes of warmed auburn, her reflection, her own face. Here it was again, whilst his presence was next to hers: desire. She felt all the right parts of herself harden, soften, and warm all at the same time. Will wasn’t looking at Elspeth as a widow. He was looking at her as Elspeth; the woman he had secretly adored for months. The woman he wanted to belong to one day and vice versa, when she was ready.
“I’m sorry for not replying to you sooner. It was rude of me. I just…needed a minute”. He assured her it was ok, and that he didn’t take it personally. She watched his lips as he talked, and then looked back to his eyes. “Can we do that again?”, Elspeth softly interrupted. Will wasn’t quite use to such a directness. He was a more reserved, honest man that always returned the pen back to the pen owner after each use, and who had kept his socks on whilst they had had sex that night. He had never felt such passion that he felt that night with Elspeth, never in his past sexual encounters as well as his fantasies. He had never really felt for anyone what he felt for her upon just seeing her for the first time, all those months ago when she joined the book club. To Will, Elspeth was a breath of fresh, spring air, as well as that warmth you get from being just the right amount of tipsy, or when you have good hands and run them under the hot tap. She was also that feeling you get on the eve; the eve of going on holiday, the eve of Christmas. When Will even just looked at her from across the book club meeting, he felt excitement; excited for life and what was next. He chuckled briefly, a slightly anxious amusement in his laugh.
“Yes, I….I would very much— only if you’re sure—
“Oh yeah. I am sure”. They made their way back to his place, her following behind him in her own car.
“Oh my god”, he deeply gasped as this time she kissed him with more vigour. Her desire was evident within her lips, within her uninhibited touch. It was so quick, so eager, that the next time they met for another round of lovemaking, he slowed her down, stating his need for her to let him taste her properly this time. She did, she allowed it. She slowed, and she let him move down. She relaxed, and she was gripping the sheet as well as burying her moans into the pillow next to her.
This continued. And it wasn’t just sex. Their time together was also platonic. Their visits to the bookshop for the next monthly book were planned together. They book browsed. They ate. They walked. They laughed. And they made love. It was good. It was really good.
But with each passing meet, with each union of their bodies and pleasure, a need for another craved humanly experience only grew larger within Will’s heart and mind. It grew each time she didn’t hold his hand while they were out together. It grew on the nights she didn’t want him or herself to stay. It grew on the odd occasion where she was more quiet and the air was barren of her laughter and ended their time together earlier in exchange for her solitary. He was mindful, and patient with her, for months.
But on the night where she popped to the bathroom whilst he waited for her in her bed, something was digging at him. Literally. He felt underneath his pillow and pulled out the framed picture of Thomas. Well, he was assuming this was Thomas, and given the look of love within his eyes to the person behind the camera, whom Will assume to be Elspeth, it was evident enough. Will and Elspeth were about to make love in her bed when it seemed that they weren’t alone.
Is a ménage à trios, a ménage à trios when the third is a ghost? Or was it Will who was the third here?
“Look at me”, Will whispered from underneath her, as his hands gripped her moving hips. Perhaps Elspeth hadn’t heard him, as her head was tilted back as her moans sung up to the ceiling. So he reached up and touched her hair before his fingers danced along her cheek. He called her name again, a moaning grunt sounding around the syllables of her name. Finally, he caught her attention and she looked down upon him. “That’s it, darling. Let me see those gorgeous eyes”. As they drove each other closer, her eyes fell closed again. His thumb stroked her hand cupped cheek as he spoke again, reminding her to look at him. He had to see her eyes. He had to gaze into those speckled portals and see himself. He had to see that he was there.
‘Please don’t be thinking of him when you look at me. Please, no. See me, darling. Please, see me’.
The plea was within his mind, even on the throws of orgasm, his plea sounded. “Say my name”. The words came from his lips before he had even realised. Perhaps not once had William ever sounded so demanding as such during sex. But there was something that came over him, like a shadow casted by the sun. And he said it again, telling her to say his name right before she peaked. And she did, she moaned his name.
And as they merged into their afterglow, he pulled her completely flushed to his front, taking all of her weight and relishing under that feeling of her. Their lips touched, slowly, as they eventually untangled themselves enough for her to move to lay half upon him, half upon the bed. Elspeth smiled in satisfaction as she steadied her breathing and relaxed against him. Despite his body being as relaxed, Will’s mind was far. She kissed his chest a singular kiss. Goosebumps left in the wake of her lips. How did one singular kiss from her have such an affect upon him, he wondered. But it only slightly distracted his unkempt mind for his longing for her. For all of her.
“Do I make you feel good?”. She made a sound that was the child of a chuckle and a scoff.
“Of course you do. Is that so hard to miss each time you make me orgasm?”.
“No, I… I just needed to know”. She leant up on her elbow to look at him, her other hand moving closer to his face so the tip of her finger could run down his nose and lips as she gazed fondly over his features.
“What a silly question”. Her tone was playful as she now ran that fingertip along his jaw. He wasn’t his usual cuddly self post coitus. Sure, he was rubbing her back and her thigh she had thrown over his pelvis, but there was a dishevelment in his eyes.
“Are you feeling ok?”. He asked as any great lover would.
“Yes. But are you?”. He didn’t answer. She kissed his cheek and then brought her head back so she could see him properly. ‘See me’. “What is it, Will? Talk to me”.
“I, um….”, how to arrange such a question of vulnerability—. “I wondered…how you felt…. about things…. with us”. She took a moment to consider her reply, as well as just how deep his question truly was.
“I like this”. She smiled authentically. “It feels really nice, Will”. She watched his expression, the way he looked up at her. In the silence, she could feel just how inadequate her words had just been. She could feel it all before it was said, but she tried to pull it all back now by keeping her tone and expression soft and playful. “Don’t you agree?”.
“Yes. But it’s much more than nice, Elspeth—
“Well yes, it is more than nice. Perhaps I should have chosen a better word”.
“Choose again, then. I’ll wait”. She chuckled with a tinge of discomfort at his prepared waiting and then cleared her throat before she pondered further into possible, and hopefully more accurate, vocabulary.
“Hm…well it…it all feels rather lovely. The time we spend together, and how we spend it together”. She kissed his cheek. She meant every word. It truly felt so warm and nice. She compared the feeling to those times you wake in the night and your body is that perfect warmth. Mm. Nighttime warmth. She kissed his jaw this time, softly, with no hunger, but with thank you. Thank you for helping me feel this relaxed.
“Elspeth”, he spoke as she laid the third kiss upon his jaw.
“Mm?”.
“Elspeth, I…well, to put it bluntly, I want to be with you. I want us to be together. Properly. I want the confirmation”. She pulled back so she could see him again. Silence remained as she contemplated her words, before she finally inhaled and exhaled softly.
“Um…I get that. But I thought we were comfortable doing what we’re doing? Taking it slow essentially”.
“We are. I understand you needed to take it slow, I get it. I just…I can’t help the way I’m feeling”. He spoke so softly, as usual. But she could see that longing in his eyes, the need for her commitment, and now.
“Well I…”, her words paused as she noticed the feeling in her stomach. “I…I don’t know if I feel…ready”. The feeling was spreading to her chest.
“I care about you, Elspeth, darling. A bloody great deal”. He wanted to say more but this conversation was already not going how he had hoped.
“I care about you too, Will”. Their eyes stayed locked. Their lips silent. He didn’t need to hear her words from her lips now, he would read them from her eyes.
“…It’s been four years…. surely you can let yourself be happy now?”. That was not meant to have any element of harshness as it apparently it, judging by by her mouth now agape in shock, bewilderment in her eyes with wonder if her ears had just betrayed her.
“…. let myself be happy? What is that supposing to mean??”.
“I…I’m sorry, that came out cold, which was not my intention. I just….”
“Go on, say it”.
“Do you…do you feel like you you’re not letting yourself move on and be happy?”.
“It’s trickery, Will. It’s not exactly a choice”.
“I understand—
“No, you don’t understand. You’re not a 33-year-old widow, are you?”
“Elspeth, I’m not trying to debate or argue here”, he added quickly as her tone was already solid, growing colder by the millisecond, beginning to feel Atlantic. “I just genuinely want you to be happy, and ideally with me in the picture”.
“I am happy. I was very much happy with our arrangement”
“Arrangement? Is this how you see me? Is this how you see us?”.
“That was the wrong word. You’re not an arrangement, Will”. He had looked away from her at this point. There was that Atlantic chill within her pervious sentence, now felt around the silent bedroom.
“It’s been a few months now, Elspeth, and you won’t even hold my hand when we’re out in public”. She said silent. Her eyes move from his, now gazing into nothing as she thought of his words that she felt unprepared for. “Elspeth -- let yourself move on”.
“Move on?”, now her eyes were back to his, and sharpened and what she deemed audacity. “There is no ‘moving on’. People don’t move on, Will. There’s only moving forward--”.
“Well let yourself move forward then”.
“I am. I have been. But I’m clearly just not moving forward at the speed that is satisfactory to you, Will”.
“Don’t you want to be in love again?”.
“I want Thomas. That’s what I want”.
“Well he is dead, Elspeth. That’s it. He’s not an option anymore”. Even Will was aghast at his own words and their fast coming foreseen severity.
“How dare you!”.
“How dare I? I’m just trying to help you see that you’re waiting for a ghost. Whereas you deserve to be happy, to be happy with someone new. I’m sure that Thomas would want you to be happy—”.
“How dare you speak his name. To speak of him like you knew him”.
“Elspeth—“. It was like trying to hold the ocean back with a broom, here it came--
“No. You have absolutely no idea what it’s like to wake one morning with the person you love, the person that you are meant to spend the rest of your life with, and then for them to go to work as usual and then never see them again. You have no idea what it’s like to get that knock at the door, to realise that those bad things that happen to other people do in fact also happen to you! You have no idea what it’s like to be asked to go and identify the body of the person you love most in the world, to see them cold, crushed, and lifeless. You have no idea what it’s like to get back into bed that night, but now suddenly alone, completely alone! You have no idea what it’s like having to hold everyone else’s hand through it, and still to this day. I finally got myself from rock bottom to here, where I am genuinely enjoying life again. It was bloody hard! And if I’m not living to your satisfaction then the hell with you, Will”.
“Elspeth, darling…. I’m sorry. You’re right, I have no idea how that feels. But I... I care for you, a lot, and I want to see you happy. I’m sorry, what I said was—
“I think you should leave, Will”.
“I don’t want to leave. I want to stay and make sure that you’re ok and for us to talk—
“I don’t want you here. I want to be alone. Please go”.
“Elspeth—
“Go!”. He left. She turned away as he gathered his clothes and exited her bedroom. She couldn’t look at him. She heard him dress in the hallway and then his footsteps pad down the stairs before the closing of the front door. And that was that.
*
Weeks passed. Tears passed. And then Will passed on attending the next scheduled book-group meet. Elspeth looked around at the group, half listening to each person’s personal review of the monthly book — Atonement. How ironic. One could argue that there was no sin to atone for, but why did Elspeth feel such heaviness in her chest as she looked across at the empty chair on the other side of the restaurant table, the chair where Will should be sitting but is now being used to hold handbags instead.
Elspeth attempted to put all thoughts of Will out of her mind. His messages of apology and checking-in went unacknowledged, the flowers and card, acknowledged enough not to let them wilt upon the bench, she cared enough to put them into a vase, but she wouldn’t look at them, or the card. They were his final plea, the final branch from the olive tree. He didn’t want to hound or harass. Elspeth felt such fury towards Will. But she knew that it wasn’t Will that she was truly mad with. It was herself, it was Thomas, it was all of it. The fact that she even had to deal with this in her young life.
It got a bit bad again, but this was a different stage of it. The frustration was because she didn’t know how to do this. She didn’t know how to shift into version of herself where she did let love in again, and without apprehension of its early perish. Elspeth didn’t know how to contain such amounts of love and newer affection within her at the same time.
And it was there, there was no denying her missing of Will underneath the lurking hounds of bereavement and disconcertion. It was there. She missed him. She missed the feeling of him, his voice, his scent.
How can one be so caught between such love and loss? For where do the bounds of grief end? For where does love start? Elspeth began to feel the blending. There was no line. Thomas was still there, but so was Will now…. or at least Will was there, before she had shoved him out of her life.
The following month, Elspeth was the one who was missing from the book club. It was innocent really, she had had a cold that past week and didn’t feel energised enough to attend. But perhaps avoidance was underlying. She wasn’t ready to face him. Elspeth felt like perhaps she could never face Will again. But she knew she would.
Elspeth returned to her widow/widowers support group. When it was her time to share, she spoke of how she was now experiencing the time of being caught between loss and love. The fine line, the balancing act. Ultimately, she knew that she would feel her own experience in her own way, as everything is always of perception. Perception makes unique to the creator. To the experiencer. But she did ask for advice. These were the people, mostly older than her who had loss, and most had found—and allowed—love again. Time; was always a common aid. Yet they all knew that time was nothing near linear when it came to grief. She talked of her new recent rediscovery of it all; a crush, dating, sex, the argument and now avoiding. This wasn’t just about Thomas, and it wasn’t about Will. It was about the woman she had become. The version of herself that had survived such harrowing depths of emotion. The woman who had survived having her heart torn in two and her world turned inside out by something that is completely unseen by this world. The version of her who could now look at that older version of herself with some reminiscence. She realised there had been more than one death here. There had been the death and grief of her former life.
Elspeth took more time to sit with herself, the now version…who tried to let new love in but panicked in fear that new love meant to rewrite and eradicate the old. To forget. She talked to Thomas. She hadn’t done the once daily coping technique in some time. But she talked to him. She asked him what he thought of Will, of her time with him, of her ignoring him. She asked him his thoughts on her allowing a new partner into her life. She asked him what he thought of her, and who she now was.
She sat with herself, in the silence. He was here, she could feel him. At least that’s what she was sure this feeling was. She no longer begged for that impossible reply, but she did ask him to tell her what she already knew. She just had to hear or see it from him somehow.
“Tell me, show me, that you’re ok with this. Because even though I am happy now…I.. I also want the happiness that I felt with Will”.
As Elspeth drove to work the next day, her usual park was taken, but luckily she found one on another block. She didn’t see it as ‘lucky’ at first, as the added rigmarole of finding a car park was now subtracting from her pre-work cafe visit due to the added time-crunch. Locking her now parked car, she started walking down the block she probably never had parked upon in her life, when Elspeth was stopped in her tracks as she saw it. Tears sprung immediately as she read his fated-orchestrated reply upon the sign right there in the shop window.
‘Be happy’.
Elspeth and Will looked cautiously at one another, over the shared restaurant table where the eight copies of ‘Life After Life’ laid. A novel a woman, from birth, who keeps dying but comes back to life to redo whatever mistake she had made in the previous life in order not to die once again. She kept doing until she got it right.
Adults they were, and it seemed that what had transpired didn’t stop them from being mature, as they smiled softly when their eyes locked at the same times. When the reading-group called it an evening, Elspeth bit the idle bullet in her mouth and approached Will, asking if they could have a chat. The night had that chilling autumn presence, so they went to sit in his car in the restaurant parking lot. Rather quiet at first, as it felt as if Elspeth’s tongue had frozen still. Yes, she was hoping for a particular outcome but she knew she couldn’t be mad if he had moved on. It was all probably too much for him. But she was relieved that he agreed to speak how they are now, because she just had to get that apology out. She was sick of this guilt that she allowed to sit and picket heavily upon her chest. She didn’t want guilt anymore, and only she could stop it.
“So…you wanted to talk to me?”. His words a gentle tone thawed.
“Yeah. I was wondering how you are?”.
“Oh…I, uh, I’m fine…doing okay. What about you?”.
“Yeah, I’m good...”.
“Good…that’s…. good. I’m glad to hear you’re doing well”.
“Look, I…well, I wanted to apologise for not replying to you. That was rude of me”.
“It’s alright…I can understand why you wouldn’t want to talk to me after…what happened”.
“Yeah, well I wont lie, I was definitely a little mad at you. Your words were…a lot. But they were also honest, and I did need to hear them”.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me, Elspeth…what I said, it was too much…I was…out of line…I let my…disheartenment get the best of me and said things I shouldn’t have—
“It’s fine, Will. You’ve apologised more than once. And I…I’ve been thinking about how I would feel if I were you in this position”.
“You have?.... what did you come up with?”.
“Well, I…I would feel a tad frustrated. I would be worried that I had been labouring under a shadow that was not mine…”
“…Yes…it did begin to feel like that. I won’t lie”.
“There’s no manual on this, Will. It became tricky for me. And I just need to clarify right now that in the times that you and I were together, whilst being intimate and even just in each others company…I didn’t think of Thomas. I thought of us. Of you. It was just you before me”.
“…. right. Well that is…. really good to know because I—
“—was assuming that I was imagining my dead husband whilst you were the one shagging me”. He couldn’t small laugh that escaped him at her frank vocabulary. “Yes, I can see how that would have been an easy assumption and worry. But that wasn’t the case. Look, Will…. it’s hard to love a widows and widowers. It’s not easy to—
“—I’m going to stop you right there because I honestly found it so easy to fall in love with you, Elspeth”.
“…You’re were in love with me?”
“Yes. And I still am. And I want to actively love you. If you will allow me this time”. Elspeth kept her eyes on his, the look in said eyes identical to his words. She had hoped for this outcome, but wasn’t quite prepared for it. He gave her that minute to let it all sink in. and when she finally spoke, they both felt the weight rise.
“…I’ve missed you, Will”.
And so Elspeth let Will in. And she let him see it all; her laughter, her love, her navigation, those occasional days and special dates where she shed tears of reminisce for Thomas, and tears of a old grief that no one should ever have to experience. And Will understood. He let her recoil and have those moments when she needed them, on now sparing occasion. Because those moments were part of her, and Will loved her completely, those moments included.
Elspeth found that line between loss and love. And the revelation was that it wasn’t even a line per say. It was not “one door closing and another opening”, for there are no lines and there are no doors. There are no parameters with love. Love blends. And sometimes, love blends into loss. But love is still there.
