: Part 2 – Chapter 13
Cherry Girl
One year later.
My final tour in the army had been the worst of my career. I saw the most dangerous action. The riskiest maneuvers attempted, some the closest I ever came to dying. The most loss of life experienced of troops I knew and commanded. Just a total fuckinâ mess of events and situations all coalescing into a very dark time for me.
Coming out of it, I was a changed man. For many reasons, but the worst part was finally making it back home to London and finding out she really had gone. Elaina did take the au pair position and moved away to Italy to work within a few months of my leaving.
Iâd lost my girl. My Cherry Girl was lost to me and I faced the prospect of living a life without her. During my tour, she never contacted me once. Her mum and Ian still did, but kept out of our business and accepted that whatever had happened between us was not up for discussion, ensuring our privacy was respected. It felt like sheâd died, she was that lost to me. I think it would have hurt less if she had died.
When I returned to my flat I found a letter from her dated the day Iâd left for Afghanistan.
Dear Neil, This is terribly hard for me to say, but I have to. I release you. Youâre free of anything you ever promised to me about us. I understand your situation and accept what you have to do about it. But, in order for me to survive it, I have to let you go. Itâs the only way I can manage to get on with my life, and I ask for you to do the same with me. Let me go. Donât come for me or try to change my mind. This is how it has to be now.
Goodbye, Neil, and please know that Iâll be wishing for you great success in all that you do, and praying for your safe return home wherever and whenever that may be.
Be well, Elaina I read and reread her letter a hundred times. There were some water splotches on it and I imagined they could have been from her tears. I couldnât bear to throw it away, but there were many times I nearly did. The dark times when I was so very angry with her for not giving me a chance to tell her anything about what really happened.
No, I didnât get that from her. I didnât get the chance to tell her about what Iâd been through in the war. I didnât get the chance to tell her of the new job opportunity I was offered from a fellow officerâwho barely made it out of the army still breathingâa job we were determined to make into a success.
I didnât get to tell her about the bizarre turn of events that left me the sole inheritor of a Scottish estate belonging to a great uncle Iâd never met. There was a house and land involved, along with a fair chunk of money, that left me in a very good place financially for the first time in my life. After actually seeing the place, I didnât get the opportunity to tell her about it, or say how much I knew sheâd love the grounds, or the little lake, or the old cherry trees that blossomed on the property, reminding me so much of our trip to Hallborough.
Everything was fucked up and my heart was broken.
And, most importantly, I couldnât tell Elaina that I was definitely not the father of Coraâs baby. Iâd been willing to face up to the responsibility of providing for the child if it was mine of course, but it wasnât mine and Cora shared that with me as soon as her son was born. Whether she was being a decent human being or because it was instantly apparent I couldnât have fathered him, I donât know. The point was moot anyway, my loss too great to repair by then.
Cora had up and married the real father before Iâd even returned home from my tour. A big Black bloke named Nigel. This was all confirmed when I saw them in the supermarket one day shortly after I got back. The little baby with all the chocolate skin belonged to somebody else. Cute though. I managed a very hollow-sounding âcongratulationsâ and walked out of there, the bitter taste of injustice and anger fueling me forward.
I still desperately longed for Elaina, but the resentment burning inside me at her leaving without a word, had hardened me. So hard, that I closed off my emotions and accepted my fate. Iâd known bitter disappointment and grief before and Iâd lived through it. I was used to accepting things that hurt me terribly and crushed my heart. This was just another one of those.
I threw myself into work at Blackstone Security International, Ltd. as Vice President and Chief of Operations. The bossâs number one. We offered security services to high-profile clientele, politicians, dignitaries, celebrities and even members of the Royal Family on occasion. I traveled around a great deal, learning the business with Blackstone and working jobs that paid me very well, but left little time for socializing. Didnât matter. I didnât want society anyway. Any desire Iâd ever had for love was in the hands of one unique person and she didnât want me anymore.
I reached out to Elainaâs mum and asked about her. She told me Elaina was happy at her job in Italy and that sheâd requested I not try to contact her. She just wanted the freedom to live her life and held no ill will toward me for whatever had gone wrong with us, but I wasnât buying it. Of course she had ill will. She felt betrayed that Iâd been with Cora. And then, Iâd had to abandon her for the better part of a year with a horrible fuckinâ break-up between us. The whole situation was worse than fucked up.
I stayed close with Elainaâs mum and Ian, hoping for an opportunity where I might see her again, maybe on one of her visits home or something. That maybe, weâd get a chance to talk about what had happened with us. That maybe, seeing each other again would spark something and we could find our way back to that beautiful place where weâd been so in love.
I even grew desperate enough to track her down in Italy once, when I was there working on a job.
The Italian seaside in summer is a stunning place. The lush beauty seemed fitting somehow as the place where she was now living and working. Elaina deserved to have all that natural beauty surrounding her. That part made perfect sense to me.
I saw her from a distance on the beach in a sky-blue bikini and a floppy black hat. Even from far away I recognized her. How could I ever forget? She looked so beautiful, my eyes stung as I soaked her in. Long cherry-coloured hair blew in the wind and whipped down her back. Lovely legs that went on for miles took small steps in the thick sand in order to accommodate the little ones she brought with her.
Elaina had two small charges, both girls that looked to be close in age, one in each hand, and a big straw bag on her shoulder with their supplies for the day. It took everything in me not to rush up and take the bag away so I could carry it for her.
It fucking hurt to stay hidden, lurking in the shadows while she settled all three of them onto the beach. But stay hidden I did. In total agony.
I watched her build sandcastles with the girls until the tide came in and washed over their creations.
Washed awayâ¦wiped cleanâ¦erasedâ¦gone⦠As if it had never been.
I couldnât bear to see anymore, and quickly realized it was not a good idea for me to be there stalking her. I felt ashamed for my covert methods and worse than if Iâd never seen her again. Seeing Elaina once more with my eyes just made everything so much harder for me. I knew what I had to do.
The time had come for me to finally let her go.
Just as I was taking my last drink of her, she turned in my direction. Elaina turned to me and looked over. She couldnât see me, I knew because I was well hidden, but she felt me. I know she felt my presence.
Iâll never stop loving you, Cherry Girl. Never. I canât stopâ¦and I wonât.
In that moment my heart just exploded, and what was left turned into a hardened mass of bits and pieces that werenât worth very much.
My heart stayed hardened like that for a good while, too. It had to in order for me to take my next breath and to function. So I learned to live with myself and got on with it. I didnât have much of a choice, and in the end, accepting the hand Iâd been dealt was easier than bluffing over the shit cards I was holding.
I worked hard, and lived hard, doing those things that a man needs to do to survive, no matter how hollow the aftermath leaves you feeling.
I did the most difficult thing Iâd ever had to do in all my life.
I let her go.
I let my Cherry Girl go.