Meant To Be Ch. 09

"It's like...he's the best part of me," I said softly. "It's not in that cheesy Hollywood movie way where you feel like someone completes you or makes you whole...I don't feel like I need him to make me happy or complete, more like he just fits - we fit. We complement each other, like real partners. It's like being with him makes me free, if that makes sense. Free to be whatever I want, achieve whatever I want - he doesn't hold me back and isn't responsible for my happiness. Maybe it's that he's able to make me see myself through his eyes and realize what I'm capable of..."

I trailed off and glanced at Gwen to see her looking at me intently, listening closely to each word.

"And there's the trust," I continued. "I can totally be myself with him, and it's always okay. He sees the good and bad and it's all part of who I am, and there's only acceptance. Like there's nothing I could do that could change how he feels about me, so I don't have to hold anything back. And the same goes for him - even when he broke up with me I never stopped loving him. Even when I hated what he'd done and hated that he freaked out over our age difference, I never hated him. It was what happened but it didn't change the way I felt about him."

I was staring into the distance as if in a trance. After a pause I blinked slowly and focused on Gwen. She was nodding slowly, a small smile on her lips. She met my eyes and grinned.

"Don't be mad if I'm a little grateful that you dated a psychopath who started a fire and got Drew to realize he wanted to be with me," Gwen said, only half-joking.

I burst into laughter.

---

I got back to Nick's feeling better; talking to Gwen hadn't solved my problems but articulating how special Nick was to me made me optimistic that we could get through this. I let myself in, looking behind me to pick up my bag with the clothes and toiletries I had packed. The door was pulled open and I turned in surprise to see Nick looking relieved.

"Thank God," he breathed. "I was worried about you," he said.

"I told you I was stopping at home to get some stuff," I replied, puzzled.

"I know..." he trailed off, taking the suitcase from me. "I was still worried. I would have picked you up," he added.

"It's okay," I said quietly. "You can't escort me everywhere, after all. It's just not practical." I smiled, trying to keep my voice light and teasing.

"I certainly can," he said quickly, putting his arms around me.

"Nick, it's okay," I repeated, hugging him.

He let out a long exhale, resting his chin on my head.

"Darling, if you had any idea - I close my eyes and see you there, in that alley...it was my worst nightmare come to life -" His voice broke and his entire body shuddered.

I shut my eyes in pain, wanting to reassure him but not wanting to interrupt if he was finally opening up to me.

"It's over now," I whispered when he didn't continue. There was another long silence and I squeezed him. "Talk to me," I urged.

"No, it's all right. I'm fine, love," he said briskly.

I didn't believe him but remained silent, moving my hands in small circles on his back in an attempt to relieve the tension I felt in his muscles. He released me and I cleared my expression, not wanting him to see my disappointment. I made dinner while he finished up on some work, and watched him as we ate, making random small talk. Finally I sighed and put my fork down.

"I need to talk to you about something," I said suddenly. "I need your advice."

Nick look surprised, but nodded encouragingly.

"I'm thinking I should take time off from school. I was barely able to get through these last classes," I admitted.

"It's understandable," Nick said sympathetically.

"I guess," I said, nodding. "But it's more than that - I just don't know if it's what I want to do anymore."

"Oh?" Nick put his silverware down and gave me his full attention.

"It seems - trivial now, for some reason. Does that make sense?"

"Well," he began. "Yes. I mean, I understand why you feel that way, but I don't want you to think I ever thought it was trivial to begin with." He smiled self-consciously.

"I know," I said, smirking. "And I don't necessarily think it's trivial, either - just maybe it's not for me. I'm a different person now."

A haunted expression crossed Nick's face and I bit my lip.

"It's not a bad thing. I like who I am now," I said softly.

He nodded hesitantly, still looking uneasy.

"Nick -" I said desperately, reaching a hand to him. "Is there anything I can do? Anything you want to talk about?"

"Don't worry about me, love," he said, shaking his head.

My heart sank but he took my hand in his and squeezed, reassuring me a little.

"I don't mean to make it sound like I'm unhappy," I told him. "I'm not. I'm incredibly happy."

Except for you being in so much pain and not talking to me about it, I added silently.

"I hope so," he said under his breath.

"I am," I said vehemently. "I'm very happy. This is just - a career plan crisis, I guess."

"I know," he said in a voice that sounded uncertain. "So," he continued, giving his head a slight shake. "Do you have any ideas of what you might like to do instead?"

"I don't know," I mused. "I feel like I want to make more of a difference than information sciences. Maybe counseling," I added quietly, giving the recent idea a voice for the first time.

He squeezed my fingers again. "You would be excellent at that."

"You think so?" I asked.

"I do," he replied, sounding more sure about anything he'd said in weeks. "Think of all the people you could help - you would be wonderful at it."

I smiled gratefully, tightening my grip on his hand.

"NYU has a program, I assume?" He released my hand and picked up his fork.

I nodded, watching as his posture assumed the relaxed, confident state of what felt like ages ago.

"I haven't looked into it," I said as I began eating again. "So I don't know the specifics of the program, but I know there is one. It's a popular field, I'm sure there are programs all over the world. Like London," I added carefully, not looking at him.

I saw his hands stop moving and could feel him looking at me but I couldn't bring myself to make eye contact.

"London?" he said, his voice sounding purposely careful.

"Mm-hm," I murmured, trying to seem nonchalant.

There was a long silence during which I kept my eyes lowered. The only sounds were our silverware against the plates. When I finally snuck a glance at him, he was concentrating on his food. His shoulders were hunched forward slightly and there was a furrow between his brows. I pressed my lips together and pushed my plate away.

"Nick?" I whispered.

He looked up expectantly.

"I love you," I said quietly, staring at him.

He looked stricken and got up to kneel next to my chair, wrapping his arm around my waist.

"I love you, pet," he murmured. "I hope you know that."

I nodded, running a finger across the worry line on his forehead. I did know it. I reminded myself to trust in that and give him time.

"I'll do the dishes," he said, kissing my forehead.

I asked him to watch a movie with me once he was done and as we snuggled up together on the couch, it almost felt like it used to. I could sense his underlying mood hadn't changed, but he held me closely and his body responded to our proximity. I shifted my hips to press against him but he either didn't notice or chose not to take advantage of my subtle offer.

I must have fallen asleep during the movie because I woke up in bed, alone. It was almost eleven, still earlier than when Nick came to bed, especially lately, but I got up to look for him anyway. He was standing behind the loveseat, his hands resting on the back cushion, staring out the windows. I stopped halfway there, studying him. His head moved and I knew he'd seen my reflection, but he didn't turn. I climbed onto the loveseat to face him and covered his hands with mine. At this angle I could see his face clearly. His eyes were dry but his cheeks were streaked with tears.

"Nick," I whispered in agony.

"I'm sorry, pet," he said in a broken voice.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," I said, tugging on his hand. "Please sit with me."

He reluctantly sat down and I gathered him in my arms, his head resting on my chest. I stroked his hair, feeling him let out a shuddering breath.

"You can talk to me, you know," I murmured.

"I can't burden you," he said harshly. "I've already put you through too much."

"What are you talking about?" I exclaimed.

"None of this would have happened if I hadn't been a bloody idiot who let you go in the first place," he spat out. "You never would have met him, never would have gone out with him...he never would have - would have -"

My heart clenched as his words registered. In all of my wondering about what he was going through, this particular scenario hadn't crossed my mind. That he held himself responsible for all of the events that occurred simply because we had broken up...I both understood and was baffled by it. I suddenly remembered Ian's words and realized Nick had been carrying this since long before Jason's attack; he had been blaming himself since he'd first learned about Jason when we got back together.

"It's all my fault this happened," he was saying. "If I had just accepted - if I hadn't pushed you away...I could have lost you and I would only have myself to blame -"

"Nick," I interrupted loudly, squeezing him with my arms. "Stop it. Stop that right now. You didn't do anything. You didn't cause any of this to happen. Jason's a fucking crazy person. And that's not your doing."

He pulled away from me, frustration replacing the pain and regret in his eyes.

"It's true," I said sharply. "Please don't beat yourself up for it. If we hadn't had that time apart, you wouldn't have realized we belong together. If we hadn't been apart, we wouldn't have what we have now. And I wouldn't give up what we have for anything." I cupped his face. "Anything," I repeated. "Would you?" I asked, my voice dropping to a whisper.

"No, I wouldn't," he said quietly, not meeting my eyes. "I just wish I could go back and tell myself not to be such a complete tosser."

I tried not to chuckle. No matter how often I heard it, whenever British slang fell from his lips I still found it - him - adorably charming.

"We can't go back," I told him. "We can't change what happened, so there's no point in dwelling on it and making yourself miserable. We're together. We're healthy. We love each other. Don't spoil the future because you're fixating on things from the past that you can't change."

Nick let out a long, shaky breath. Leaning back, he pulled me to his chest, tilting my face up to look into my eyes.

"When did you get so wise?" he asked.

I smiled warmly at the affection in his eyes, relieved to see the pain gone even if it might only be temporary.

"I have always been wise," I said haughtily. "I am an old soul. And you should listen to me."

He gave a small laugh, stroking my hair.

"I will, and gladly. Though, I don't know if it will be easy for me to just move on and let it go," he admitted.

"I get it," I murmured. "But I'll be here to help you, if you'll let me."

He pressed his lips against my forehead and I sighed, feeling the warmth spread through me.

"Promise?" he mumbled.

"I'm not going anywhere," I replied, slipping my arms around him.

A large breath escaped him, the tension being expelled almost palpable. My chest tightened as it occurred to me that he might have doubted that. I sat up to look at him.

"Were you worried I wasn't going to stick around or something?" I asked curiously.

He looked at me sadly. "Perhaps. Not because I doubt how you feel about me," he added quickly. "It's just -"

"Because I'm so much younger," I interrupted.

I was matter-of-fact, no longer frustrated by his concern over our age difference. He nodded self-consciously.

"It doesn't bother me anymore - it's not that," he said.

"But you feel like it might matter...to me, maybe? At some point?" I guessed.

"I suppose."

I took his hand, lacing our fingers together.

"Would you rather find someone closer to your age?" I asked directly.

He inhaled sharply. "No, pet. You're the woman I love. There couldn't be anyone else."

I rested my head on his shoulder, leaning my head back to look at him.

"And that's how I feel about you, silly," I said. "We belong together. It would be true if you were twenty or fifty or seventy. And you're just going to have to accept it because I love you and I'm not going anywhere no matter how much you freak out about being older than me."

He smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling and I returned the smile.

"I should have discussed this with you much sooner," he told me apologetically, giving me a hug. "I'm sorry if I've been difficult."

"Well," I said, shrugging dismissively. "Just remember that in the future. I'll always be here for you. You don't need to hold things back from me."

"I don't know how I got so lucky," he said, running a finger along my cheek.

"We both got lucky," I said simply.

He chuckled, nudging my head to rest in the crook of his neck, stroking my fingers where our hands joined. My body absorbed his warmth and I sighed, feeling my breath quicken at the simple caress of his hands.

"Speaking of getting lucky," I said softly, kissing his neck.

Turning to face him, I sat up on my knees and cupped his cheeks, caressing his lips with mine. His hands rested on my waist, his fingers kneading my back. I slipped my hands under his shirt and he tensed slightly. I stopped moving but kept my lips a millimeter from his, opening my eyes to look at him. He blinked slowly, warmth and affection shining in his eyes.

"Move in with me," he whispered.