After my two week trip through Scotland, England, and Ireland, the new Michaelmas term started at Lancaster University. The beginning of this term was a stark difference from the trip I had immediately returned from. During my trip, I back-packed, slept at bed and breakfasts, and took close to 500 photographs. My fiancé and I had a great time; I especially had a good time because my ancestors hale from York, a beautiful town on the east coast of England. When I first beheld the city walls, with the red rose of York from the War of the Roses, I had felt more at home than I had my entire life in America. I could almost feel my ancestors spirits gather around and embrace me in unison; tears ran down my face in joy. Beholding York Minster and Clifford’s Tower, I could literally feel the ancient and magnificent history of the place flow through me like a gale.
The relationship between my fiancé and I had never been better. We held hands along the pathways overlooking the bay in Tobermory, on the Isle of Mull in Scotland; exploring the Royal Mile in Edinburgh, eating haggis and drinking local beer; running around London in dress clothes we had picked up at a local thrift store so we could watch Nathan’s favorite choral group at Royal Albert Hall; traveling across the Irish countryside on a rickety train plucked directly out of the 1800s; and gazing across the Atlantic ocean towards America from Dingle, Ireland, talking about our future together.
Settling back into my life at a university where I knew no one was difficult to say the least. It was hard to leave Nathan... I rode the train to see him off at the Manchester airport the day before Michaelmas term started. The vibe between him and I was peculiar and I couldn’t put my finger on why.
We arrived early, so we sat at a café inside the airport and shared a French pain au chocolat. Sitting in silence, we just gazed into each others eyes. For whatever reason, I felt that as soon as he boarded his plane, things would never be the same between us. And I told him as much.
“Why do you say that?” Nathan inquired, his eyebrows shoved down, shadowing his eyes. He wiped his mouth quickly and set his jaw. “Is something wrong?”
“I just feel like... once you leave, a new chapter will start for both of us.” Tears began to pound at my lids then, demanding I set them free, but I barred the gate for now.
Cocking his head to the side, he rested his chin in his hand gently and leaned forward, shrinking our vicinity. “Cara, don’t think that way. We’re getting married.” He grabbed my hand then, and caressed the knuckles of my left hand, twitched up slightly as it ran over the new engagement ring he had purchased for me as a surprise in Ireland. The old one had a plain gemstone, but this new one was unique... silver engraved with celtic knots and tiny green emeralds. As his thumb rubbed over it again and again, his eyes again raised to meet mine. They were throbbing and dark with tears. “I know we are. You’re my soulmate. We had a great time on this trip, didn’t we?”
“Yes, of course.” Smiling quickly, I concentrated harder on holding back my tears. I had never seen Nathan cry in the ten years I had known him.
“Then don’t worry. We’ll be fine. We’ll talk everyday, I promise. The six months you’re at Lancaster will fly by, and you’ll be home before you know it to celebrate Christmas with my family, and to show off your new ring.” Fingers tightening around mine, I squeezed back, afraid. I loved him with all my heart; I will probably never love anyone as deeply or as thoroughly as I loved him. During the course of our trip, he had found out about Jack, though I dared not mention his name now. Nathan knew as well as I did that things would never be the same between us, even if I cupped Jack in the palm of my hand and blew him aloft into the wind like a dandelion floret, to dance off on the current of fate, to plant itself into an unknown plot of soil.
“Okay, babe. I’m just worrying over nothing, aren’t I?” Forcing a laugh, a swallowed the hard lump in my throat, but as soon as I did it jumped back and even higher up, threatening to gag me. My foot under the table, balancing on the toes, bounced and jumped about nervously.
Not expecting me to say that, Nathan laughed unexpectedly, genuinely and flashed me his handsome smile. Though nothing was resolved by this conversation, that laugh and that smile told me something even deeper than I could have perceived at that time. I just thought he was enjoying our last moments together. A revelation had hit him then, one I wouldn’t find out until my return from the UK.
An announcement was broadcast over the loudspeaker. Nathan’s flight was having its last call to board. Getting up, we strode as idly and silently as ghosts, as if our feet didn’t touch the ground and we levitated in the direction of his gate. Before either of us knew what was happening, we were in each other’s arms, and he was crying. Sobbing, his lungs spasming, his arms grasping around me harder than someone clinging to life itself, I tightened my embrace around his shoulders like a vice grip. Tears streaked and littered my face, splotched and reddened by the fervor of emotion that had swept us up.
Kissing me hard, his wet cheeks pressed against mine, his hot breath penetrating my every pore, he backed away and stared into the deepest part of my soul. “I love you more than life itself. Do not forget that, Cara. Things will be fine. I promise. Do well at Lancaster.”
He pulled away from me and grabbed his back pack and heaved it up onto his shoulders. I didn’t know what to say, so I flashed him the sign for ‘I love you’ with my fingers. Still crying, he held up the same sign in return.
Choking out, “I love you, Nathan!” he smiled at me and within that same second he disappeared down the jet bridge. My solo journey back to Lancaster on the train was the loneliest ride I’ve ever experienced.
Copyright © by Erin M. Truesdale, 2013
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