Before you start, it's unusual for me to do the author note before, but I think that for the last chapter it's appropriate :)
I know I asked before, but I'm still considering creating a second book, instead of posting the second part in this book, but your opinion matters to me, so tell me what you think about that. Would you mind if I created a second book ?
I'm leaving for Brussels and Amsterdam on Monday and I probably won't post the prologue until August 14. I might post the synopsis before, though.
This is the last chapter of the first part of Anchor. I asked if you wanted it in 2 parts, but 90% of you wanted a long last chapter, so here it is ! Hope you enjoy it ! Please please, vote and comment. I'm sure you'll have a lot to say about the ending ;)
Thank you for all your love on this book ! love love love love love you all ! <3
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I had always enjoyed taking the train.
From a very young age, my parents and I would get on the train almost every week. During the summer, we would take it to get to the coast that was an hour away and spend the day at the beach.
It was my favourite way of transportation, simply because whenever I took the train, I was heading where I wanted most: the beach on my way there and my bed on my way back. Today, I loved taking the train for the memories, but also because, at the age of twenty, the train had the same effect: my parents on my way there and Harry on my way back.
I was heading to my parent's house alone. Harry hadn't gone back on his decision, but he did drive me to the train. Stealing a few kisses and locking me in a solid hug, before letting me go. He made promises of texting and calling as much as he could, and I reminded him that I was only leaving for two days. Then he argued that we had spent every day of the week together and that he wasn't used to being away from me anymore.
Maybe I shredded a few tears once the train started to move and Harry slowly disappeared from my field of vision. Maybe I looked at the empty seat next to me and wished that Harry would've decided to come after all. But I would admit to none of that.
The past week had been something else. Harry and I saw each other almost every day. He would often come and pick me up from work and sleep at my place, then drive me back to work in the morning. He had suggested once or twice that we sleep at his place, but I didn't want to, I wasn't ready to go back there yet.
His place had been tainted with the memory of him with a girl on his lap. Simply thinking about going there reminded me of the cruel words he had said to me that day. I wasn't ready to go back there yet. So all week, we stayed at my place and avoided to speak about anything too serious.
I think that unknowingly we both wanted to take it easy, have a week without any complications and simply learn to be together and see where that would lead us. For a week, we could leave the complications behind; we could leave the fights, the misunderstandings, the apologies or anything that could hurt us. We deserved it.
The topic of our relationship had been avoided as well, leaving me in the dark, once again, but I let it go. Because whatever we were doing, it was working so far. I was happy with Harry, I was happy when there were no complications, and for now, it was more than enough for me.
I arrived at my parents' house Saturday in the evening and was greeted with a warm embrace from both of my parents. It took everything I had not to start crying. The distance had made it seem like I didn't miss my parents too much, but as they held me in their arms, pinched my cheeks and commented on how much I had changed, although nothing had changed, I realized just how much I had missed them.
Being an only child, I had always been very close to my parents. It was hard not to love my enthusiastic and loving mother, or my father, who barely spoke or showed emotions, but loved me in his own way. I felt loved when I was home. It was weird, considering how long it had been since I had been here, but I embraced the feeling nonetheless.
Once they were done with the hugs, my dad grabbed my bags and went to put them in my room, while my mom grabbed my hand and dragged me into the kitchen. I looked around and noticed that everything looked exactly the same as I remembered it. No picture frames had moved, the furniture was placed in the same way it had always been. My parents' house was a sanctuary of stability, something I hadn't had in a while.
"How was the train ride?" My mom asked as we entered the kitchen. She released my hand and went to the oven to check on what she was cooking. As she opened the door, a drift of familiar odours ran through my nose and I smiled. It was just like her to cook my favourite dish on the night that I cam home: her famous meatloaf.
"It was great. You know how much I love trains," I reminded her.
The corner of her lips lifted up as she basted the meal. "Yes, I know."
Then the classic interrogation started. She asked me about work, life in general, and obviously she asked about my love life, a topic I expertly avoided. My dad eventually came in the kitchen and saved me from the interrogation and suggested that we eat. I silently thanked him and he winked, a perfect example of how much my father and I understood each other.
When the clock neared nine and all the dirty dishes were put away, I excused myself and went to my room. The day had been exhausting and I wanted to be in good shape for the brunch the next day. So I got ready for bed, brushed my teeth, washed my face and put on my pyjamas before getting in bed. I grabbed my phone from my bag on the floor and saw that I had a few messages.
I had one from Melissa, confirming that she was taking my shift tomorrow, one from Wendy asking me if I had made it home. But the ones that caught my attention the most were obviously the ones from Harry.
*Hope you had a good trip*
*I already miss you*
*Call me when you can*
My heart swelled in my chest as I read his texts and immediately I dialled Harry's number. The phone rang a few times before he picked it up.
"Hello?" He answered.
"Hey, it's Emily," I replied with a soft voice, almost shyly. I could hear a lot of noise in the background and feared that I was bothering him. He didn't reply and I frowned, but then the noise slowly dissipated.
"Hey," he finally replied. "Sorry, it was noisy and couldn't really hear you. Are you home?"
"Yea, I'm in bed now," I said and looked around. "I'm surrounded by posters of the Jonas Brothers, it's creepy."
"Always hated that damn band," Harry laughed and I closed my eyes, drinking in his laugh. I had seen him only hours ago and still, I couldn't help but to missed him.
"I think I'm going to take them down right after we hang up," I said laughing along. Although the posters did remind me of a simpler time, I couldn't hang on to them.
"Good thing," he agreed.
"How about you? What are you doing?" I asked as I turned on my side and starred at the window.
I had a fair idea of what he was doing, the noise in the background that I had heard earlier, I had heard it time and time again, but I asked anyway, in hopes that I would get a different answer. I heard him cough and I knew he was fidgeting, looking for a way to present the information.
"I'm, uh, I'm at Ryan's," he ended up telling me. His voice came out low and it was obvious that he was nervous about my reaction.
I closed my eyes, keeping my calm. I had to be rational, not get mad at Harry, not after the marvellous week we just had. There was nothing to be mad about, but in my head, I imagined all the worst scenarios, because by now I knew what 'being at Ryan's' meant. But what I knew most, what I worried most about, was what happened after Ryan's. And I wasn't there, I wasn't home to be there for him.
"Are-are you ok, Harry?" I asked while trying to keep my voice level and my panic inside. I would never forgive myself if when Harry needed me, I wasn't there.
There was a brief silence before he replied. "Yeah, yeah I'm ok." He didn't seem to understand why I sounded so anxious.
"If there's anything, you'll call me?" I didn't want him to feel like I was being overprotective, I didn't want to recreate the conversion we had had in his room the other night, but I had to at least let him know that if there was something he could call me. Being at Ryan's usually meant trouble, it meant that Harry was in a bad mood and needed to smoke it away.
I expected him to get angry or at least annoyed with me. His reaction was actually the complete opposite from that. I heard him laugh softly. "Yes Em," he said, his voice warm, washing all of my panic away.
I chuckled too as relief slowly took over. He was laughing, which meant that he wasn't going through a rough time. "I don't want to be overbearing," I explained. "I just want to make sure that you're fine."
"I'm fine, babe," he tried to reassure me. "It's just for fun, no need to worry."
I had to trust him. If he said that there was nothing to worry about, I shouldn't worry.
I sighed and finally opened my eyes and they landed immediately on the moon. For a second, I got lost in it, got lost in it's beauty. It brought an odd sense of serenity. And the thought of how cliché I was being crossed my mind, but I shook it off. Because I was talking on the phone with Harry, because Harry wasn't smoking to get rid of his trouble, and because the moon just looked so beautiful. I had the right to be cliché, I had the right to enjoy the fact that for once, things were good, things were slowly falling into place.
"Go to bed," Harry mumbled after a short silence. "We'll talk tomorrow and I'll pick you up at the train station in the evening."
I nodded, even if Harry couldn't see me. "The bed is cold," I said my eyes still caught on the moon.
"Mine will be too," he said and I bit my lower lip. I saw his comment as an indirect way to say that he was mine, or at least that he didn't plan on being someone else's.
I didn't even try to hide my happiness. "Good," was all I said, but it made Harry laugh, and that was enough. "Harry?"
"Hmm?" His tone was low, almost as if he was falling asleep too.
"I..." I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes again. I listened to his breathing, they could be hard to decipher through the phone, but when I concentrated hard enough, I heard them. They were deep and slow, just like when we would be lying in bed next to each other, right before we would fall asleep.
I love you, I wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come out. Maybe it was because although it felt right, I knew it wasn't the time to say it. Even if we had been moving a thousand miles per hour in the past few weeks, it wasn't the right time. I had kept these words in for 4 years, I could hold them in a little longer.
"I'll see you tomorrow," I ended up saying.
"See you tomorrow," he replied. "I can't wait to see you tomorrow. I miss you already."
"Me too," I mumbled with a heart heavy with love and a smile hitched on my lips, before hanging up.
After that, I put my phone down on the nightstand next to my bed, programmed an alarm so that I would have enough time to get ready before the brunch at 10:30 the next morning, and fell into a deep slumber until the next morning.
- x -
It felt as if I had just closed my eyes when my alarm woke me up. It took everything I had to get out of bed, and once I did, I dragged my feet across the floor until I reached the shower. I let the hot water wash the remaining of sleep off of my body and scrubbed the dirt away. Once I came out of the shower, I felt reinvigorated and fully awake. I got dressed, dried my hair and put on some mascara before heading downstairs to help my mom with the preparation of the brunch.
When I came into the kitchen, I saw the same scene I had seen countless times when I was younger. My mother was running frantically around in the kitchen, trying to get everything ready in time, and my dad was sitting at the counter, his reading glasses sitting at the top of his nose while he read something on his tablet. Only the tablet had changed, it used to be a journal, but I guess he had decided to get on board with today's technology. Like I said before, a sanctuary of stability.
I went and kissed my father's cheek. "Good morning dad," I greeted him.
"Good morning," he replied before putting his tablet down and turning his head towards me. He looked at my mom then at me and I leaned it. "Be careful with you're mother, she's on edge," he warned me, a big smile spread across his face.
I chuckled. "Will do," I told him.
"I heard you loud and clear Richard," my mom scolded him while she checked on something in the oven.
"I know you did, honey," my dad replied as he picked his tablet back. "Just thought she should know as you're around knifes and hot pans," he explained with a laid-back tone before winking at me.
I bit my lower lip, keeping the laughter in, and went to help my mom in the kitchen. She ordered me around, strictly but lovingly, the way only my mother knew how, and by the time the clock ticked half past ten, we were done.
"Who's coming over?" I asked, as I washed my hands in the kitchen sink.
"It will just be George, Lauren, their son and his fiancé," my mom said and handed me a towel to dry up my hands.
I thanked her. "Their son, Tom?"
My mother nodded. "Yes, remember him? You used to play with him when you were younger," she reminded me.
I chuckled. "Oh, I remember him. But saying that we played together is an overstatement. I think that slavery would be more appropriate," I shook my head as I remembered all the things we had done when we were younger.
"Emily!" My dad scolded me, although there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
"What? He's like five years older than me and he used to carry me around so that I would hurt myself," I explained through laughs. "I don't hold it against him, we were young and I was even more naïve than I am today. If I had been him, I would've done the same thing, but I might just take it out on his fiancé, scare her a little so that she knows who she's getting in bed with," I teased and both of my parents rolled their eyes and sighed loudly which made me laugh even harder.
Finally, my dad got up and helped us set the table and at the exact same time that we put down the last plate on the table, there was a knock on the door.
"I got it," I said as I wiped my hands against my jeans and went to open the door.
The first people I saw was George and Lauren, the front door neighbours. They pulled me into a warm embrace, commented on how much I had changed since they had last seen me and I stayed polite, nodding and laughing. But then, I saw Tom and his fiancé and I froze. I hadn't really questioned who Tom's braid-to-be would be, simply assuming that I wouldn't know her, but I was wrong, so wrong.
Gemma.
My eyes went wide as I saw her, even if I had seen her a couple of weeks ago, the surprise of her presence completely froze me into place. It was Tom, who reached towards me to greet me and kiss my cheeks, that pulled me out of my stunned state. I shook my head and greeted him, then it was Gemma's turn.
"Hi Emily," she said shyly.
"Hi Gemma," I replied and kissed both of her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I just didn't expect to see you here," I explained, hoping that she wouldn't take it personally.
She smiled, and I knew that she didn't hold it against me. "It's ok, I get it."
Tom squeezed Gemma's hand before releasing it and going into the kitchen to join our parents. Gemma and I were left alone in the entrance, giving us a chance to quickly catch up.
She probably wanted to talk about what had happened at the thrift store a couple of weeks ago, but I didn't feel comfortable talking about Harry with his sister, so I quickly came up with another topic.
"So you and Tom, uh?" I asked with a side smirk to lighten up the mood. "I didn't even know you two were together, let alone engaged. Congratulations!"
"Thanks, we've been engaged for nearly six months now. I meant to tell you and Harry the other day, but it didn't go very well... so I... I didn't," she laughed nervously and her eyes turned sad as she mentioned Harry. "How is he by the way?"
There it was, the subject that I wanted to avoid. It was unrealistic for me to expect her to not mention him, I would've done the same thing, so I reached over to her and caressed her arm reassuringly. "He's good," I replied, keeping it short while wanting to comfort as much as I could. Obviously, I understood her concern for her little brother, but I was loyal to Harry too and didn't feel like it was my place to tell people about his life, even his sister.
"Good," she said, looking down and fumbling with her hands. "Good," she repeated.
I brought my lips into a thin line. I could feel her sadness and wasn't exactly sure how to react, so I gave her time to get herself together. I stood next to her, my hand still caressing her arm. She took in deep breaths and avoided my eyes, but quickly composed herself.
"Let's go in the kitchen," she said, trying to sound cheerful and I pretended like I couldn't see that she was faking.
"Sounds good," I replied smiling so that maybe she would be a little more comfortable.
We walked into the kitchen with smiles on our faces, acting as if nothing was wrong, and joined everyone at the table. Obviously my plan to grilling Tom's fiancé went overboard the second I saw Gemma in the doorway, but it didn't prevent me from reminding Tom how cruel he used to be, while he defended himself by reminding me of how naïve I used to be. We all laughed it off and soon enough Gemma didn't seem like she was pretending to smile anymore.
While everyone chatted and laughed, I took a second to appreciate the moment. It was nice to be spending time with my family and people I had known for almost all of my life. I looked over at my parents, noticed the permanent wrinkles that had formed to the corner of their eyes and it made the thought of leaving the next day a little sour to my mind because I realized just how amazing my family was. Evidently, I had always known, but I often got moments when I realized just how amazing they were. I wished I could come and visit more often, but living two hours away and having a full time job made it nearly impossible. So whenever I was here, I tried to make the most of it, because time was slipping right through my fingers.
Eventually, I came back to reality and joined the conversation. Everyone was done eating and I decided to pick up the dirty dishes. Gemma volunteered to help and I gladly accepted. Together, we put all of the dirty dishes in the dishwasher; she would rinse and I would put place it in. We did the whole process in silence and once we were done, I poured myself a glass of water.
"You want one?" I asked her, holding my glass up.
She shook her head. "No thanks," she replied.
I noticed her looking around nervously and I frowned while grabbing the water pitcher. "What is it?"
She took in a deep breath, gathering the courage to ask me whatever she meant to ask me. "Look, feel free to say no, I don't want to pressure you into anything, but I just- I want to ask you something and I don't know how you're going to take it but-"
I raised my hand so that she would stop her rambling. "Spit it out Gemma," I said while laughing softly and taking a sip of my water.
She laughed along with me before closing her eyes and took in a deep breath. "Ok, well Tom and I have already picked a date for the wedding, and uh... I'd really like it if Harry would come."
I choked on my sip of water as I heard what she was asking for. Because first, I didn't expect that question, and second because what she was asking was almost impossible.
"Gemma..."
"Just hear me out," she pleaded, her eyes getting wet in the corners. "Harry is my little brother, my baby brother, and I haven't seen him in two years, but it doesn't mean that I don't love him, that I don't want him at my wedding. I haven't talked to him, because he changed his number, never told me his address, and you're the only way I can reach him."
By the time she had finished talking, full tears were going down her cheeks. I sighed, feeling her pain, and went to hug her in hopes that it would comfort her. I tried to balance my glass of water so that I wouldn't drop any on her. She sniffled into my shoulder before pulling away and wiping away the tears with the back of her hands.
I ran a nervous hand through m hair. "I get it, Gemma, I do," I said as I leaned against the counter. "It's just that Harry's having a hard time with-"
"I know it's been hard since my parents told him about his adoption, but he has to forgive them eventually, right?"
A pause, a complete stop in time. Sometime the world stops turning and the ground, that you thought was solid, starts to fall around you. A simple information rocks your world so hard that you can't even stand. You get lost without even moving, you drown without being in the water. Hearts shatters, minds stops working and there's nothing you can do about it.
Complete and utter shock, and there was nothing I could do about it. The glass I was holding in my hand slipped right past my fingers, but I didn't give a damn. It shattered in pieces as it hit the floor, and the water slowly spread at my feet, but I didn't move. The information took barely a second to get to my brain, but it felt as if it took years for me to comprehend it, for me to understand it.
Harry was adopted.