Narcissus

Chapter Twenty-Five

Our eyes met at the same instant, me glancing up from examining a jar of honey and Emma just turning her head so she looked directly at me. She was tall and fair, her long figure graceful in the loose fur coat that she held open with a hand on her waist. Her eyes were green, pale, yet dominant as light or fire, and I found myself caught by them, unable to look away. She appeared not to move a single inch, rather like a porcelain statue, and her hand was still as it held a bouquet of daffodils to her smooth face, having been stopped by me in the process of smelling it.
Emma was looking at me, too, with a preoccupied expression, as if half her mind were on whatever it was she was meant to buy here. And then the moment was lost, as another shopper passed between us, blissfully unaware of what it had interrupted. But then said shopper turned and placed a gentle kiss upon her lips, mumbling something about how he 'couldn't quite locate the carbonara sauce'. A cold chill settled over me. I had not been aware that Emma was in the company of a man. The fur coat she wore was beautiful, and I knew personally that it was faux fur but was soft as the real thing.

I knew that because it was my coat. And it had been hanging on my coat rack before I had left for the wedding yesterday - the final confirmation of what had occurred last night. I watched the scrawny man place a hand on her waist as he took the daffodils from her hand, frowning at them, placing them back and instead picking up a selection of roses. My heart appeared to be thumping out of my chest.

An odd feeling had settled in my stomach, and it did not appear to want to go. Wordlessly, I placed the honey back on the shelf and turned away.

--

Above me, the sky was grey, and my surroundings panted a dark, primal landscape. Soaring mountains shrouded in cloud poured down their slopes to spread tendrils of mist across the moor. Beyond the small bungalows and shops of Braemore high street, a small, cobblestoned road, was a hostile and inhospitable bogland, shredded by scraps of loch and ragged inlets.
The first few drops of rain began to fall, gently caressing my nose, and I ducked into the nearest shop, finding myself in a small bakery. The walls were white and tiled and it was not particularly clean, but the smell of pastry and the warm glow from the ovens in the back filled the shop with a homely feel.
It surprised me when I saw that I was served by the man from the Supermarket. He had no beard, just a bushy brown moustache. It looked scratchy and wiry, and I wondered briefly how it felt for Emma to kiss him. Then a sick feeling settled in my stomach and I took a deep breath before ordering a coffee with extra sugar.
Then he brought my coffee to the table and my hands were shaky when I took it as a small ring flickered in the light, resting comfortably on his skinny ring finger. I shook my head. They were not engaged - surely not.
The hot coffee did nothing to soothe my cold, broken heart and I wondered how I had become so weak as I was unable to stop a tear from rolling down my cheek. How had my life changed so quickly? How had the one person I had spent my whole life running from wriggled back into my heart as if it was nothing?
A bell rang out above the shop door. It was her, of course it was. It was almost like I couldn't escape. Emma knew I was here - I knew she knew. But she barely even looked my way. Ordered a coffee - black, I was sure - and didn't pay because of course, that was her... fiancée. They conversed for a few minutes, until I had finished my own coffee, but as I slipped my coat on and prepared to stand up, she did they very opposite of what I was expecting.

Emma turned, walked forward, and slipped into the seat opposite me. She eyed the fur coat I wore. It smelt like her. She raised an eyebrow. Said nothing.
"How are you?" It came out strangled, but again, Emma said nothing. She pushed a cup of tea towards me, which she had ordered without me realising.
"Seeing as you have already had a coffee..." she nodded at the tea and I took a sip. It was exactly how I liked it. A dash of milk and a lot of sugar.
"I missed you." I blurted out, my hand slapping unceremoniously onto my mouth as if I could take back the words I had said, my eyes wide and almost frightened. It was a far cry from the stone cold bitch I used to be. Long ago no matter what I was feeling I could hide it with a tight-lipped smile and an airy wave. Now it seemed I crumbled at the mere thought of the woman before me.
Once again, Emma said nothing. Merely watched. Observed. Golden spirals of colour danced in her haunted eyes as she pursed her lips and took a sip from her mug. Everything about the woman was poised, from her rigid posture to her ever so slightly cocked eyebrows. It felt, very oddly, like I was looking at myself the day that I had met her. Running from the past and bored of the future.