I’ll Wait For You

Chapter 11

The next day, still buoyed by the success of Stolen Heart, she had woken up in fine spirits, and didn’t feel the same gnawing despair when she looked at herself in the bathroom, and saw the marks in her skin from the stitches, on the side where her left ovary once lay.

She felt bad and miserable about the fact her body might not ever be able to conceive properly, but there was more to life than just making babies.

Everyone wants a family, of course. Well. Maybe some don’t. I did. Or I thought I did. But maybe that’s just not the path available to me. Maybe it was never meant for me. Not that I know where that leaves me when it comes to Kostya. Certainly not where I hoped. Which was fat and surrounded by hundreds of babies. And singing lullabies to them.

Combating the negative emotions started by taking her prescribed medicine to help with the hormone overproduction, eating a delicious breakfast that consisted of pancakes with honey dripped over them, and doing things that made her feel good. Taking a shower, plucking out the few tangles that occurred in her short, but slowly growing hair. It now tufted past her ears, threatening to turn into the helmet she hated.

She knew she was supposed to be off work for thirteen more days, but she wanted to go to the studio, to enjoy the trickle of water by the fountain, and hope that the quiet study would allow her to touch pen to paper and find the words in her heart to leak out.

Though she felt reminded of some things that were worth living for, she knew at this point in time, the words would struggle to come. They wouldn’t suddenly appear, just because she had one good day. No, the good days, she needed to hold onto, to try and beat back the bad ones.

The anxiety and doubt would always remain. She knew how many times she had sunken into a bleak mood, knew it coincided as well with her hormones and sometimes with how other people affected her mood. She also knew how impulsive the negative thoughts came.

The one thing she debated over, and it caused her great agony to do so, was whether she would be too selfish to keep Kostya in a relationship. Truthfully, she wanted to keep him. He was a good man, an individual secure in his beliefs and non-judgmental.

Is that all I like him for? Do I like his wealth, his connection to fame? She contemplated this. She certainly didn’t mind it, and she’d be lying if she said she did.

However, she also didn’t think about it. She had never looked at Kostya, once she discovered who he was, and thought she needed to stay close to him because of his connections. She wanted the chance to work her dream job, and Kostya had provided the opportunity, and the surprising and welcoming extra of his attraction to her. The inspiration he gave her, with his love.

Do I love him?

She didn’t know. But the warm, soft feeling inside, along with the knotted anxiety at the thought of pushing him away, suggested something. She wanted him to be happy. He deserved that.

So, what did she deserve?

Nothing. I did nothing. I was found, discovered, and prodded along. Without anybody encouraging me, without anyone scooping me up – I would have just stayed at Velocity Café. I would have felt a little bit more dead inside every day, wondering where my life was going, if it even would go anywhere. I’d be lost in the cracks.

If I couldn’t climb the wall myself, then what do I deserve?

*****

At the studio, no one was there. The blonde receptionist had accepted her in without a second glance, not aware of the reason why she’d been missing for almost three weeks, nor caring.

She’d texted Kostya to tell him she would be here, and asked him to come as well, in which he’d responded: Of course.

Her heart palpitated like crazy, because she didn’t know what she planned to say to him. Part of her envisioned a happy ending, telling him that she loved him, and she knew it would be difficult, but she was grateful for everything he’d done, and the white heather, and his gifts, and watching Vikings with her, and finding her and not giving up on her.

Nothing would have been possible without him. This studio, with the glittering fountain, the pristine floors – this didn’t matter. What mattered was the chance to write.

Then again, nothing would have been possible without the kinds of people she had in her life. Tina. Her odd but laid back best friend, her parents, her colleagues at work who once provided a second home for her. Tina had been on Elinor’s case for years, trying to get her to sing again, trying to make her see that Aidan wasn’t worth the effort she invested into him.

Elinor wasn’t so sure why she never bothered to listen to the advice given. She used to think of herself as an honest person, with the same level of straightforwardness as Tina had, back when they were hitting each other on the head and hating one another with the pure honesty of a child.

However, she lied to herself about things every day. She lied that she was truthful, that the graveyard didn’t bother her, that Aidan would change if she’d just stop giving him duds, rather than children. She even lied to herself on whether she wanted children or not.

She assumed she did, because that was what a woman was meant to do, right? They bled and went through all these pains because their body expected them at some point to continue on the genetic line. People needed children when they got old, and couldn’t look after themselves.

Plus, having a child was supposed to be special.

The medication she was taking was supposed to help regulate her hormones. It would in theory allow her remaining ovary to produce ovum. But what did she need? This job? Kostya? A baby?

I really don’t know. So many people seem to just immediately understand what it is they want in life. I only know things that I enjoy. My family. Friends. Singing. Writing. This job. And now, Kostya.

It would be nice if the answers came to her from above, and be revealed in a cloud of illumination the path she should have always taken. But there was no cloud of illumination. Just roads and twisting little lanes and only her feet to move along, without any real idea of where the road led to, just the hope and expectation it went somewhere good, somewhere that made her happy.