Jason - June 2003
'You can do it, Jase.' Every breath shook. In and out. 'You've got this,' he calmed himself.
Annabelle had called him earlier that afternoon and she sounded serious. Something in her voice wasn't the same. She knew. She had to. Ryan must have told her.
'Crap,' he said aloud, as he started to walk down the wooded road that led to the grand gates of Annabelle's home.
Even though he knew eventually he would have to tell her, he didn't think it would be now. It had felt like a secret up until now, and suddenly the chance to come clean to Annabelle himself had been whipped out from under him like a magic trick gone horribly wrong. Plates, cups, and cutlery were crashing to the ground around him and all Jason could see was Annabelle's face; tears streaming down over her cheeks.
'We need to talk,' she had said. However, it wasn't the happy, deeply, madly in love with Jason, Annabelle. But the Annabelle that knew his secret. The one that knew about the mistake of a kiss with Ryan.
...but it was more than that. Jason knew it meant more than that. But he couldn't let Annabelle go, either. His heart swelled for both of them. The left for Annabelle, the right for Ryan. In one beat the sweet scents of Annabelle's hair, her soft gentle lips, and smooth hands. The beat of the other, and Ryan's musky aftershave, his bristled upper lip pressing against his, and his hands squeezing Jason's tight.
'Not in the house, though. Mum and Dad will be there. Meet me in the writing shed,' Annabelle instructed Jason earlier in the day. Her voice monotone throughout the whole chat. Was she whispering, too?
What would her parents think when all this came to light? And not only for him, but for Ryan? Jason let a small laugh escape his lips, his body's gut reaction of disbelief. How could he even expect that either of them would want anything to do with him after this. Maybe Jason would be Annabelle and Ryan's little secret? Their shared love...
Love... was that what this was? Could it be love?
'Ah, Hi Jason!'
At some point during his train of thought, Jason's feet had carried him up the road, through the gates of Roberts Manor (as him and his dad had come to call it), and to the door, where he must have knocked as now Mr. Roberts stood facing him.
'Hey, Mr. Roberts. Can I come in?'
'Of course, of course. I saw Annabelle head out into the garden a few minutes ago.'
Jason smiled. 'Thanks.'
As Jason stepped into the house, he felt a sense of dread make his feet heavy. The door closed behind him and Mr. Roberts shifted over to the staircase, Jason became all too aware that this may be the last time he would ever see the hallway from this perspective. Once Annabelle asked him about Ryan there would be no going back. She would never forgive him, and her parents would likely cast him out.
Crap. He thought again.
His dad. Mr. Roberts had recommended his dad to many of their friends, and he also invited them back to maintain the garden on a regular basis. What would this mean for his dad?
Jason stepped forward. The one thing that his dad had said... and he had blown it. He had risked everything for a kiss. For Ryan.
'I just have to tell her...'
'What's that, love?' Mrs. Roberts voice came from the end of the kitchen counter. Jason's eyes widened and he laughed it off.
'Oh, I... I've just been missing Annabelle,' he grinned. 'Can't wait to tell her how much I miss her, you know?'
Mrs. Roberts narrowed her eyes at Jason with a wide smile and lifted her glass of fizzing white wine.
'Didn't you only see her last week?'
Jason laughed. 'What can I say?' he shrugged.
'You kids. Cute. Go on, she's in the writing shed.' Mrs. Roberts nodded to the shiplap shed in the middle of the garden, set amid the beautiful flowers, before lowering her eyes back to some romantic looking novel.
Jason stepped out into the garden, closed the door behind him, and took in a deep breath. This was it. Where everything would change for him and Annabelle. Perhaps the last time he would see Annabelle. Ever.
And then he was there, stood in front of the door to the writing shed. The exact place he stood when he first saw Annabelle. He let a small, sniffly snigger fall from his mouth in a spout of air. Maybe when he pushed the door open he would see the same brunette girl, books bundled in her arms for a brief second before she would stumble, and they would all tumble to the floor.
He took a deep breath in, pushed the door open, and hoped.
Alas, no smiling beautiful girl nor fallen books. There did sit a beautiful girl, though. But as she lifted her head to connect those glimmering eyes with his, Jason noticed she was crying. Or had been crying. A lot.
'Jase...' she trembled, tears resuming their waterfall like meandering down her rosy red cheeks. She reached out.
Jason quickly moved forward and dropped to his knees in front of her. He took her hand in both of his and pulled it into his chest.
'I love you. I do, Annabelle.'
She did not speak for a whole minute. Instead, she cried and shook her head. Jason gritted his teeth biting back the tears welling up in dams behind his own eyes. He had done this to her. He had caused this pain.
She suddenly withdrew a breath as she sat up in the wicker chair. She still held his hand.
'I love you,' Jason repeated.
'I know...' she spoke, through slower tears.
She blew her nose into a handkerchief and scrunched it into her other palm.
'If there's something I can do. Tell me.'
Annabelle shook her head and pulled her hand from underneath his to wipe her eyes.
'You've done enough.' A smile seemed to flash for a second, but just as Jason thought it might be hope, it dawned on him that it was distrust. It had to be. It most definitely was not hope.
He shuffled on his knees closer to Annabelle and rested his forearms on her legs. Lowering his hands to hold her waist. She felt so small and fragile in his hands. What should he say? What could he say?
'We can get through this, Annabelle.' It seemed right.
She shook her head. 'You don't want this.'
This. Did she mean her? Is that how he had made her feel? Like a 'this'?
'I... I'm sorry, Annabelle.'
'It's not your fault. I... I wanted this too.'
She did? Why...? Was she not happy with him?
'What do you mean?'
'Jason...'
He looked up at Annabelle. She sat, her face red and her eyes puffy. His heart wrenched as he realised he had totally destroyed her world. Her trust in him. Everything they had. And for what, for some new excitement with Ryan?
No. That wasn't true, either. That kiss, their foreheads pressed against each other. Maybe that was love...
'Jason?'
'Yes?' he tremored.
'I...I don't know what to say.'
He moved his hands up to grabs hers and pulled them back into her lap where he gently cupped them under his own. He kissed them and looked back into her eyes.
'I know. I know. But we can get through this Annabelle. I know you probably won't want to be with me anymore, but maybe we can somehow still be friends after all this. Maybe we can-'
'-Jason, what are you talking about?'
'Isn't that what you want? To break up?' Jason ventured. So far, they had not had to talk about Ryan or what had happened at the football pitch. The kiss. He didn't think it was right to bring it up again if she had already had to sit through Ryan outlining everything. Probably in painful detail...
'No...' she whimpered.
'Oh, sorry. I just thought after you-'
'-I'm pregnant,' she sobbed.