My grandmother’s death was difficult for me. I know what happened was my fault. But, I also know when she died, she was with my Grandad again, and there was a tiny part of me that couldn’t ignore that. It was still wrong, everything that happened, but them being together was a tiny bit of good that I could take from it all. So yeah, I still felt responsible and I still felt guilty, but a part of me felt something else too.
They had such a beautiful life together my grandparents, true soul mates who had a story like something out of a movie. The really sappy ones about a young boy who fell in love with the young girl who lived next door, who never gave up on her, watched her and pursued her and fell in love with her. The young boy and girl who became a young man and woman who fell madly in love, who danced together, loved together and stayed together for decades, never losing that love. That was their story. I loved hearing it growing up and it made me wish for a story like that of my own. I thought I’d found it when I met Sam, although the start of our relationship wasn’t under the best of circumstances. But I can still remember, even from when I was young, the huge amount of love and joy that flowed between my grandparents whenever they were around each other. It was beautiful to watch and even though I was a kid, seeing it was some of my most favourite memories of them.
"Grandma?"
"Yes Asha?" Grandma said, smoothing my hair back as I stood beside her at the kitchen bench.
"What are you doing?"
"I’m making your Grandad a birthday cake," she said smiling down at me.
"Can I help?" I asked, standing on my toes so I could see what she was doing.
"Of course you can."
Grandma pulled me in for a hug as she leant down and kissed the top of my head and I wrapped my arms around her waist hugging her back. After she’d helped me tie on an apron and wash my hands, we spent the rest of the morning baking, Grandma telling me what to do and me trying very hard to follow her instructions and not mess anything up. The whole time we were cooking, I listened to her sing along to all the old songs that were playing from the radio. I had no idea what any of them were, I was only nine at the time, but I loved listening to her sing them.
"Hello ladies," Grandad suddenly said, walking into the kitchen and kissing Grandma on the cheek as I was licking the cake mixture off the spoon.
I giggled as I watched them. When I did, Grandad turned and pulled a funny face at me. My laugh got louder as I ran out of the kitchen waiting for him to chase me. I was in the living room by the time he caught up to me and with no effort at all, he picked me up and hauled me over his shoulder.
"What are you laughing at missy?" he asked, walking us back into the kitchen, me still slung over his shoulders.
"You!" I said, still laughing.
"What about me?" Grandad asked.
I laughed again, I couldn’t help it, as Grandad sat me down on the kitchen bench and leant over to kiss Grandma again. "You and Grandma," I said giggling.
"What about me and Grandma?"
"Kissing!" I yelled.
Grandad only laughed as he reached in and tickled me more, making me laugh so much I dropped the spoon I was licking. I looked over at Grandma as she started laughing too and I remember her saying, "Ah Ash, you’ll be like this one day, when you meet the love of your life."
"No!" I said confidently.
"Yes you will my sweet, yes you will," Grandma said, leaning in to kiss my cheek and tickle me too.
I didn’t know what she meant by that. At the time I thought kissing was gross. It wasn’t till years later that I understood what Grandma meant and just how true her words really were.
∞
When I wake up this morning the first thought that pops into my head is of Luke. I realise once more that I’ve dreamt of him. And once again, the nightmares have stayed away. I also realise I haven’t thought of Sam. And for the first time, none of that bothers me, it’s only Luke I want to think about and dream of, and I don’t feel guilty about that anymore.
As I shower and get ready for work I’m still thinking of him, wondering what he’s doing, whether he’s at work already. His voice fills my apartment, but now I want to hear it for real, I want to hear his voice talking to me, or even better, singing to me. I want his mouth at my ear and his words flowing through me. I want to feel his arms around me again. I’m longing to see him, I crave the idea of touching him and I’m aching with wanting to kiss him. My body heats under the water at just the thought, and I have to switch off the hot just so I can cool down.
Even though I think I know how Luke feels about me and as much as I crave him, I’m still a little bit afraid. Somehow, I don’t trust that what I see happening between us, is really real. How can it be, how can I deserve it after everything I’ve done?