Conviction(86)

“There’s no furniture,” is the first thing Meebs says as she walks through the house.

“No shit Sherlock,” I mock.

“How can we stay here if there’s no furniture?” I pull her into my arms as she asks.

“You like the house?”

“I love the house.”

“Good, well I want you to pick the furniture, new carpets and tiles too. I’ve arranged for a team of interior decorators to come in over the next few days. They’ll bring samples and we can make this place, a home, together,” I tell her. She looks up at me with those big blue eyes of hers and I have to start undressing her. I need her naked and underneath me, like right now.

We don’t even make it up to the bedroom and simply f*ck on the floor of the family room, in front of the huge open fire.





The next week goes by in a blur. Meebs consults with furniture makers, kitchen fitters and the interiors people. She’s got a very strong opinion of how she wants the place to look and I just nod and agree.

By the time Friday arrives, we have everything organised with all of the tradies to come in and start work the Monday after we leave. We’ve interviewed a local bloke from the village to come in and project manage for us and he will liaise with all of the contractors on our behalf and contact us if there are any problems. His name is Mick and we liked him as soon we start talking to him. He’s retired but ran his own construction firm for over forty years, eventually handing it down to his three sons. We’re happy and confident that he’ll keep everything in order until we can next get back.

The following week we have days out, exploring beaches and the countryside. I keep my cap and my glasses on, and the only time I’m recognised is when we surf on the day before we are due to leave, but after smiling for a couple of pictures, we jump into the car and head back home. I’m happy to sign autographs and pose with my fans all day long. What I’m not prepared for though, is the press finding out where I am.

I still haven’t gotten around to popping the question to Meebs. Last week was just so busy and this week, something just seems off. Don’t ask me to put my finger on it because I’ve tried and can’t. Meebs has been really quiet, she’s slept in most days, hasn’t wanted to go out for dinner in the evenings and just generally doesn’t seem herself. She’s assured me she’s fine and just chilling, enjoying our time away. But I’m not stupid, I know something’s up. I had to beg her to come and surf with me today and even then, she only stayed in the water for ten minutes, choosing to watch me from the beach instead.

When I asked her Friday evening where she’d like to go for dinner, she tells me nowhere, that she has a headache and is gonna have an early night.

She went out for a walk on her own earlier and I thought she might come back happier, but that didn’t happen. I stand out on the balcony, looking over the water for a few minutes after she leaves, and think and over think every conversation we’ve had these last few days. She was fine up until about Monday, since then, she’s just withdrawn more and more and I’m crapping myself that all of this turn out with the press has made her change her mind about us. I can’t stand it anymore and decide to head up and ask her outright what the f*ck is going on. I can’t lose her. I won’t lose her. I’ll walk away from it all if that’s what she wants. We can move here, just me and her. We can get married on the beach and live here. It’s actually a great place to raise a family so we should have at least four or five kids.

I walk up to our bedroom, she has her music playing and Paloma Faith is singing about the fact that only love can hurt like this. Ain’t that the truth.

I catch her walking out of the bathroom. Her eyes are shining like she’s about to or has just finished crying and her face is devoid of colour. She looks terrible.

“Baby, you okay?”

Tears roll down her cheeks as she shakes her head, no. “We need to talk. I have something to tell you.”

My heart shatters, and it takes everything in me not to throw it up out of my mouth as I feel myself sway where I stand.





Nina



I’m pregnant. The one thing that I’ve hoped and dreamed of has finally happened. It’s both the happiest and saddest day of my life. I’m about to break the heart of the man I love.

He’ll leave.

He won’t want me now.

I don’t think we’re strong enough to survive this.

I grip the pregnancy test stick in my sweaty hand and go and sit on the edge of the bed, but I can’t breathe. Panic is starting to set in so I stand up and Conner follows me outside to the balcony. I look out over the calm, serene water below us. The waves are lapping gently, the yachts barely bobbing with the force. Conner leans on the railing next to me.

“You promised Meebs. Don’t do this, please don’t do this.” I can’t look at him. I don’t know how he knows. I’m assuming he’s guessed from my crazy arsed behaviour this week, or maybe he heard me being sick the last three mornings.

“You said as long as you had me you’d fight. Well, you’ve got me, all of me. Every fibre of my f*cking being is yours, you own it, so please, just love me enough to want to stay and fight.”

My head’s pounding and spinning. I can’t think straight and don’t quite understand what he means. “Of course I’ll fight, I’ll never stop fighting for us,” I tell him.