A Storm Is Brewing

Second Place Love

"Can I ask you something?" She asked, tracing patterns on my cheek with her index finger.
"Anything."
"Do you ever wonder where you'd be if you hadn't met me?"
"Sometimes."
"Where do you think that is?"
"Ireland, for starters. I certainly wouldn't have my own firm. It's weird—before you, I would've said I was happy on my own; sure, I missed the company sometimes, but my life felt like it wasn't lacking any colours. Now, when I think about the possibility of you not being in my life, I can only see emptiness."
"Do you think if I hadn't been stuck in Ireland that Christmas, you'd have responded to Hannah?"

Her voice was soft, and I knew this wasn't a test. It was a genuine question, one I knew the answer to.

"Probably, yeah. Eventually."
"Do you ever wonder if that could've worked?"
"I think I could've made it work for me as the person that I was then, yeah."

I knew I had to be honest.

"You think you've changed for me?" Leah continued to trace patterns across my cheek, almost like she was telling me it was okay to be honest.
"No for you, because of you. Before I met you, I was happy to be loved by anyone, because I wanted that. I wanted to be the person that someone, anyone, loved."
"Why do you think that was?"
"Mum, most likely. I remember being this naive little girl who thought that unconditional love was just how everyone loved. I guess when I realised that I didn't have that from the one person who meant the most to me, I started to think that it didn't exist. So, even when I knew that Hannah didn't love me for me, I just stayed. I was never anyone's first; Dad loved his business most; Rhys had Liv; Mum had Rhys; and I was always given that second-place kind of love. So yeah, I think I probably would've settled for second-place love again."

Leah stayed still. I wondered if she wasn't as comfortable with this as I thought, watching intently as the only movement was her eyelashes flapping as she blinked softly.

"Can you make me a promise?"
"Anything."
"Promise that if I ever make you feel like you're second-place love in my life, that you'll tell me? Give me a chance to show you that you aren't, and never will be, second place in my life?"
"I promise." I smiled.
"I knew that, you know. The first day we met, I knew you felt lost." She sighed, moving her arm under my neck and her other hand from my cheek to my hair.
"How?"
"Your dad was boasting about your job, and you said it wasn't like winning the Euros. You couldn't stand it. You couldn't stand anyone complimenting you, because you didn't feel like you deserved it. I remember watching you at the Christmas Eve party the next day—the huge smile that spread across your face when Liv climbed up beside you, the sparkle in your eyes when you two did the rap together. I remember, in that moment, having this really strange feeling come over me of what if, and then internally slapping myself and thinking, catch a grip, Leah." She chuckled.
"I had that moment that night too."
"You're having me on?"
"No, I swear. Do you remember when Liv fell asleep on you? I had that exact moment then."

I could feel her heart beating faster and her lips turning upward at the thought.

"What's been your favourite moment so far, with us?" She asked.
"Our second first date. You?" I smiled at the memory.
"The first night you came to London, when you asked me to stay with you, and I sat on the end of the bed. Your worst memory?"
"When you said you didn't want this anymore."
"I'm sorry for that, I -"
"Le, don't. It's forgotten. What's your worst memory of us?" I asked softly.
"The day you came here, when you told me you took the job, and then you drove away."

I could feel her reliving every part of that day during the sentence.

"Why?"
"I remember watching you drive away, knowing that I'd said why didn't you come sooner, I wished I'd said something different. I hated that I blamed you; I hated that I let my head overrule my heart."
"What do you mean?"
"You said I was always going to take the job; I just didn't know it. My heart knew that; my heart knew that we were meant to be together, but my head told me that I was being silly to think that anyone would ever move their entire life for me."
"I think that's life, though. At the time, you think that it's unfair, and you wonder why it isn't doing what you want it to do. Next thing you know, you're cuddled up on the sofa with the person you love; you're their first love and they're yours, and you realise that life simply followed the right path to get you to exactly where you were meant to be."

A single tear made its way from Leah's eye, falling from her cheek to the skin of my arm.

"Le?" I whispered.
"Sorry." She shook her head.
"What's wrong?"
"You are my first love."
"I know, Le. Why is that making you upset? Please tell me you know that you are mine too?"
"I do. Maybe I didn't used to, but I do now."
"Why are you upset then?"
"Because - well, because - you know, when you just have that feeling of, I wasn't sure that was ever going to happen, and now it has. The feeling that just makes you feel like you'll never have a feeling like it again?"
"Yeah."
"That's how I feel when I hear you say that you finally feel like you are someone's first love—my first love. After so many years of feeling second."
"You're such a softie." I grinned.
"Only for you. I have one more question, though, if that's okay?"

I feel this is going to be the biggest yet.

"Yes?"

Leah took a shaky breath, burying her face into my chest so I couldn't see her face as she prepared to ask the question. I tightened my arms around her, placing a delicate kiss on the side of her head.

"How would you feel about trying for a baby after the wedding?" She whispered.
"Le? Can you do something for me?"
"Yeah?" She asked nervously.
"Can you ask me the question from earlier again?"
"Which question?"
"The favourite moment one."
"What's been your favourite moment so far, with us?"
"The night that you asked me how I felt about trying for a baby after the wedding."

Leah let out a crying chuckle, her body unsure which emotion she was feeling more intensely—happiness or relief. She tilted her head back, lifting mine gently towards her so she could connect our lips again, the exact way this conversation had started.

"Wanna try now?" I smirked.
"Do I need to teach you how reproduction works?" She chuckled.
"No, but if straight couples get to do this 24/7 to get pregnant, then I feel it is simply discriminatory for us to miss out on that kind of opportunity." I joked.
"Sofa or bed?" She asked, wrapping her arms around me, ready to carry me upstairs.
"Both."