To Love and Be Loved

‘I don’t think I am a big man.’ He held her gaze, as if her words were accusations.

‘But that’s just it, Jarvis, you are. You have the biggest heart and the kindest nature of any man I know. I’m so proud of you. But it’s still okay to feel sad. It only makes you human, and your humanity is one of the things I admire most about you. You’re smashing. Don’t ever forget that. And’ – she took a breath, a clue that what came next might be more important than the usual small talk she liked to fill the air with – ‘when you give your heart to someone, not that I want you to be in a hurry to do that,’ she emphasised, ‘make sure you give it to someone worthy. Someone who thinks you’re as lovely and as special as I do. I think anything less would be a great shame.’

‘Thanks, Mum.’ He sipped his tea, feeling guilty that he had sniped.

‘Is there anything you want to talk about right now?’ she asked, turning on her heel, as if second-guessing his response.

‘Nope.’ He turned back to the view.

‘You know, love, no matter how bad a day seems or how much you feel stuck, the sun always rises and with it comes a brand-new day with brand-new possibilities. Things can change in a heartbeat.’ She clicked her fingers.

‘Yep.’

‘It’s true. When . . . when your dad left, I felt like my heart had been shredded; I didn’t know how to stand up, how to breathe. I fell down.’

He nodded. He remembered every single second of it. Her distress floating from beneath her bedroom door and how helpless he had been to fix things, and how that helplessness had balled in his gut and made him feel both empty and full at the same time.

‘And then, last year when he came back, wanting to give things another go, saying he’d had a change of heart, again, and that he would like to come home.’ Her voice cracked. ‘Do you remember what I did? What I said?’

‘Yep,’ he whispered. Knowing she was going to remind him anyway.

‘I cried. I had always planned how mad I would get if I saw him. I had planned all the things I would scream at him!’ She spoke through gritted teeth. ‘But I didn’t. I cried and I very calmly told him how he had spoilt so much; he had given up our lovely life, for what? A thrill. A buzz. Walking away from his family, his home and from Port Charles for something unknown, the promise of a happier, better life that came packaged in a face that was younger and prettier than mine. But it was good, Jarvis, because it was closure. And you now have closure because she is gettin’ wed. You will heal and you will feel better. Maybe not today or tomorrow or next week, but one day.’

Again he fixed his eyes on the cove and nodded.

‘I’ll leave you to it then. Remember, Jarvis, love can be fickle and your feelings for the object of your desire can turn on a sixpence into something a lot like loathing. They don’t tell you that.’ She tapped the wedding ring that still adorned her finger on the doorframe as she left.

Jarvis closed his eyes, and when he was certain she had gone, gave in to the feeling that had been building at the back of his throat and stinging his nose, as he cried great, gulping tears that fell down his ruddy cheeks and dripped from his chin.

‘I love her!’ he whispered out into the morning sky. ‘I’ve lost her for good. And that ain’t ever going to feel better.’



Jarvis turned on the path after delivering his card and walked across the cobbles in front of Merrin’s house. He could hear the guffaws of laughter, mainly coming from Bella’s big gob, and knew they were probably laughing at him, but what did it matter? It wasn’t as if he could hurt any more than he already did. He curled his fingers into his palm, capturing the point where her fingers had briefly touched his when he handed over the card. Try as he might, he couldn’t remember exactly what he had written, and a cold knife of fear cut his confidence at the very thought that in his distracted state, he might have accidently written something soppy or inappropriate on her wedding day – something which she would now reveal in front of Digby the dickhead. He closed his eyes briefly and prayed this was not the case, fearful that the words on the card, sent with the very best of intentions, might at some point come back to haunt him. His stomach leapt with the threat of nausea. She had looked happy, smiley. But what had he expected? It was this fact alone that had prevented him from saying the words cued up on his tongue. The words he had practised as he had showered and walked down the hill with the big gold envelope in his palm.

‘It’s you, Merry. You are my one. My person. You are kind and calm and sweet, at least you always have been to me, not like some of the other gobby girls around here. And I can’t stop thinking about you and I can’t sleep for thinking about you. And if ever things don’t work out with Digby – you know where to find me. I’ll be waiting. I’ll wait for ever. Because I love you, and whatever it was I did or didn’t do that stopped you holding my hand and kissing me, then I’m sorry, and I wish I could go back and do things differently. I had been about to tell you we needed to make more effort, really get to know each other, when you met Digby, and that’s when my world fell apart.’

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