In Other Words…Chapter Sixty Four
Niall’s POV
“I just hate seein’ her like this, you know?” I said aloud. The car park was nearly empty, and I slumped back against my seat, unsure of how or why I was even here.
“I get it.” Harry’s voice came through the speaker. “Maybe she needs a girls’ night? Call El. She’ll have that organized before you’re off the line.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “A girls’ night?” I said, waiting for Harry to play that one out in his head. She could use a night out, for sure. But she’d probably just roll her eyes at the idea of it being girls-only.
What Roxy could use was a night at some hole-in-the-wall, with a tired old jukebox in the corner that hadn’t seen a single new track since the early 2000s. I’d sip on a pint or two as she knock them back, her boldness growing with each swallow. She’d want to give shit to Harry, dance like an idiot and then end up having a philosophical half-hour conversation with the barback. Her hips would sway as she sauntered over to me, pressing her lips to my ear and whispering sexy promises I knew she meant, but wouldn’t be able to keep. She’d down a couple of glasses of water, insisting she was good to go, and I’d press my hand against her waist as she wobbled out to the car. She’d be passed out before we even got home.
“Anything I can help with?” he said, a door slamming in the background of the call.
“Not yet, mate.” I said, half-lost in thought. “But maybe when I start looking at these properties…”
“Don’t you think you should talk to Rox about this?” Harry interrupted. “I mean, I don’t think this should be a surprise. What if she’s not into it?”
His concerns were valid, and eventually I would just spill the idea to her, and see where she lands on it. But I knew damned well she’d have a hundred questions, and if I wanted this to go smoothly, I needed to have an answer to at least a few of them. “It’s not going to be a surprise.” I explained. “I’m just doing a little research.”
“It’s Niall.” Harry said, taking the phone from his face. “Hi Niall!” she said loudly in the background.
“Hey Allie.” I said, knowing Harry would relay the message. The clock on my dash clicked closer to two, and I took my key from the ignition. “All right I’m heading in.” I said.
“Good luck, I guess.” Harry said.
I took the stairs out to the street and walked up the two blocks to the office building, the frosted glass doors swinging easily on their hinges as I entered . The smartly dressed blonde at the front desk recognized me; I could tell by the way she straightened in her chair.
“Christina, right?” I smiled. The color rose in her cheeks.
“They’ll be with you in just a few minutes, Mr. Horan.” She said.
“Great. I’m just glad they could fit me in on such short notice.”
“I..I moved some things around.” She said, eyes darting between her computer screen and my face.
“Well, thank you.” I said, taking a seat in the row of chairs against the window.
I picked up a magazine and flipped through the pages, anxiously. I probably should have brought a notebook , or at the very least a pen. I was going to look like a total fool. The pages slipped between my thumb and forefinger, and I was halfway through before I realized it was a woman’s magazine. I tossed it to the table and lifted my hat from my head, quickly pulling it back down.
“Niall.” He said, and I stood to shake his hand. “Didn’t expect to be seeing you so soon. Everything working out?”
“Oh yes.” I said as we headed down the corridor to the office I’d been in twice before. “Everything is perfect, actually. I’m here for a bit of new business.”
Roxy’s POV
I sipped my steaming tea from the silly mug Niall gave me, the realization of the time that had passed making me a bit sentimental. I’d woken up on his couch in a daze more than a year ago, the date on the calendar having come and gone without notice. I assumed we would honor the date when we swam in the sea and he asked me to be his as our official anniversary, but none the less I was a little sad that I’ve been distracted enough lately to let it slip my mind.
I worked the ballpoint pen through my twisted mess of hair, pinning it up and out the way as I knelt down and selected a mixing bowl from the cupboard. The choreography of baking has always helped me clear my mind. If you were at all distracted, you’d end up using too much soda, or having to fish a stray egg shell from the batter. It only took a few bad batches and a few blisters on my fingers to know that there was no room for bullshit when cookies and cakes were on the line.
The tattered bit of paper had been tucked away in a tin, the remnants of the last baking session still stuck to its surface, my barely-legible writing marred by smears of butter and flakes of chocolate. I unfolded the recipe and laid it next to the sink, and set a frying pan on the flame, anxious to have the scent of toasted hazelnuts fill the house.
__
I set my old frog kitchen timer on the counter and washed up the bowls and spatulas lining the bottom of the sink, eyeing phone as the screen lit with a new text.
On my way home.
I quickly wiped the suds on a tea towel, and typed out a reply.
Miss you. Pick up some Murphy’s?
Niall’s POV
I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat, a relieved smile on my face that she seems in better spirits than when I left. Unless of course she’s made her way through the beer in the fridge and I am going to be coming home to a pity party of epic proportions.
That meeting was a bit of a bust. As usual, I’m finding it difficult to operate under the confines of normal society. Not every idea can be brought to life simply with a wad of cash. I really needed Roxy’s help, but it was too early in the process to bring her into the loop and have her get spooked or try to talk me out of it because she’s too good of a person to accept help so easily.
And she’s stubborn as hell. A pain in my ass, really.
Half an hour later I was climbing up the porch, a sixer of Murphy’s under one arm, and bag of salt and vinegar crisps under the other. The air smelled heavenly, like a mixture of warm and sweet, definitely chocolatey. She came from around the corner, a smile on her face.
“Hi Ni.” She said.
“I see you took my advice.” I said, gesturing to her clean clothes and washed hair. She nodded, placing a kiss up on my lips as she wriggled the beer from under my arm and led the way back into the kitchen. “You’re baking?”
“Mmmhmm.” She said, holding a plate of still-warm cookies in her hand and bringing it up to eye level. “Look familiar?” I knew instantly what sort they were.
“You made these ones when you came over to my flat to apologize for being an asshole.” I said, plucking one from the plate and shoving it in my mouth.
“Is that what you remember about it?” she laughed.
The truth was, I remembered everything about that day and every day since then. She knocked on my door, pretending to need to give me back my jumper; the same jumper, in fact, that she was wearing just a few hours ago. She was wearing her glasses, and her hair was down. It was when I first noticed that she always tucked a leg beneath her as she sat on the couch, and the first time she wrinkled her nose at one of my compliments, unsure of how to respond. It was the first night I watched her drink a beer straight from the bottle, and the first time I heard her laugh.
And to think I thought when that night ended that it would be the last I heard from her.
She’s standing here now, in our house, a plate full of the same cookies on the counter, a sip of the same beer going down her throat. If I squinted, I could almost remember what it was like not to know nearly everything about her, when she was just a mystery.
She’s still a mystery.
“What’s the occasion?” I asked.
“I’m an asshole.” She muttered, leaning against the fridge.
“You’re not.” I smiled, taking another cookie.
“I meant to make these for you on the one year mark.” she sighed, and I understood what she meant. We had missed the anniversary of the day we met. It seemed like much more time had gone by than just one year.
“Goddammit, Roxanne!” I yelled, cookie crumbs falling from my lips and to the floor. “How am I supposed to know you love me if you keep forgetting to spoil me on the most significant dates?”
“I’m sorry!” she played along. “I’m a terrible girlfriend. You should send me on my way.”
Roxy’s POV
I could have hugged him just then, cracking jokes with bits of chocolate stuck in his teeth and on his chin. But, I held back, knowing we needed to be sitting down shortly to have a very grown-up conversation about my future. Our future.
I took our nutritionally sound dinner and placed it on the dining table, and slid into the chair. Niall pulled open the bag of chips and dumped it into a bowl before sitting down, and tossing a few into his mouth. “Nice combo.” I muttered, the thought of vinegar and chocolate making my stomach turn. He just shrugged and took a swig of his beer.
“I want to tell you something.” I blurted.
And I just spilled.
He sat with his head propped up by his hands at first, and then with his back straight against the chair. I knew what I was saying was making sense to him, but I wasn’t sure if any of it was news to him. The bottom line was that my Visa would be expiring soon, and I needed to decide if I was going to stay here, in England, jobless or, if I was going to go home for a bit to regroup, and hopefully return quickly with a fresh visa and a new job title.
“And I know I’m being really stupid…”
“You’re not stupid.” He mumbled, looking down at his hands in his lap. He flipped the bottle cap in his palm, the sharp edges leaving indentations in his skin as he took in what I had to say. I didn’t know how I expected him to react. Of course, a part of me that had watched too many movies thought he would dramatically beg me to stay. Another part was fearful that he might not even be very sad to see me go.
Niall’s POV
Why didn’t I know any of this stuff? Why hadn’t I asked the questions? Initially, I was a little mad at Roxy for not explaining all of this visa nonsense to me before, months ago. But, I guess she just figured that her job was secure, and it wouldn’t come up. I didn’t realize that the government made it so difficult for foreigners to reside here, setting up miles of obstacles for people to jump through, and potentially tearing relationships apart over a stupid piece of paper.
She stared back at me, waiting for me to speak. Her eyes were dry, but clouded. The words she just threw out had obviously been rehearsed in her brain. But for how long? Days? Months? It didn’t really matter. All I knew was that she couldn’t leave. But I didn’t want to force her to stay and feel…less. She was incredibly smart and talented. Any company would be lucky to have her on their payroll. But once again, this was one of those issues that couldn’t be solved by any rational means. It was just a stupid rule.
I knew in my heart that she was meant to be with me. I’ve known it for a while now. The lads have always joked that once I have my heart and mind set on something, there was no stopping me, and in many ways they were absolutely correct. I reached across the table and took her hands from where they lay against the wood, linking my fingers into hers.
“Ni. I need to know what you think I should do. I don’t have much time.”
I took a breath and licked my lips, her blue eyes locked on my face. Each second that passed was wearing on her nerves, and I felt her fingers tremble slightly within mine. Finally, I parted my lips to speak.
“I think we should get married.”
Roxy’s POV
They rolled off his tongue as if he’d thought them dozens of times but kept them trapped behind closed lips. They were serious, but not heavy; his breath never wavered. I looked down at my hands, his fingers linked loosely within mine, the fourth finger on my left hand feeling out of place next to the others. He’s just asked me to marry him. Or, at least, I think he had. Whatever romance his words lacked, the intent was clear: he wanted me to be his wife.
I’m not even wearing a bra, and he wants me to be his wife.
He’s got crumbs on his face and his hair is a mess and he wants to be my husband.
I swallowed.
Niall’s POV
And now it was my turn to wait. I didn’t really ask a question, but I still needed an answer. She looked down at our hands, her eyes scanning back and forth over the details of our skin.
Look up. Look up. I thought, knowing that once she did, the words would follow soon after.
“Did…did you just propose?” she asked, her eyes lifting. I wasn’t really sure. I guess I had in a way, although I had no ring, no elaborate scheme. But I meant what I had said.
“Yes.” I said.
“So I am supposed to answer you?” she said.
“I think so.” This felt weird.
But, her hands weren’t trembling anymore.
“You would marry me…because of my visa?” I was seeing how the circumstance really was robbing the moment of all the romance. One thing really didn’t have anything to do with the other.
“I would marry you because I love you.” I said. “I want to marry you.”
The corners of her mouth turned upward, and the flush in her face began to recede slightly.
“Niall.” She smiled. I waited. I blinked only when I had to, not wanting to miss her reply. “You’re Irish.”
Niall’s POV
I looked at her, confused by her statement of the obvious. “Yeah?” She laughed and leaned across the table, pressing her lips to mine.
“Marrying you won’t make me a British citizen.” She said against my lips.
“Oh.” I muttered. Fucking hell she had a point. I had just laid down my hand, and I wasn’t even playing the same game. I felt like a fucking idiot. “So, that’s a no then?” She stood from her chair and rounded the edge of the table, wrapping her arms around my neck as she sat down in my lap.
“It’s not a no.” she said. “It’s a not right now.”
“When, then?” I blurted, still a little embarrassed that I’d put it out there like I had. It didn’t really matter when, or how. The fact that her answer is “yes, someday” was enough to send my heart racing.
“When.you.ask.me.properly.” she said, each word punctuated by the press of her lips to mine.
“You can’t leave.” I whispered against her cheek. “Please.”
“Niall…”
“Please.” I begged. “Just give me some time. I will figure this all out for you.”
“Niall I don’t need you to fi…”
“Stop.” I said. “I don’t care what you think you don’t need. I know that I need you. Here.” She was quiet, pressing her face against the crook of my neck “With a tourist visa…you couldn’t work..at all?”
“I wouldn’t be able to get a paycheck of any kind.” She clarified. My brain snapped from the fog.
“So, what if you find a gig volunteering for the time being?” I asked. “You know, get out of the house, do a bit of good? That’ll give me some time to work on a few things.” She sat up straight and looked down at my face, her eyes as wide as her smile.
“You’re a fucking genius.” She said. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Too busy moping around to see how good you’ve got it.” I muttered. And with that she took a cookie from the plate and shoved it past my teeth.
“Shut it, Horan.” She laughed.