Page 122 of My Destiny

“It was the most tragic, yet beautiful, performance.” I let out a small sigh just thinking about it. “It moved me to tears a number of times.”

The smile on John’s face grows as he listens to me speak. “I’m happy to hear that you enjoyed it so much.”

“I did.” I look down at the empty mug in front of him. “I’m going to grab a coffee. Would you like a refill?”

“I’d love one, thank you.” Holding his mug out for me, I take it from him.

I practically skip into the kitchen. “Morning, Jill.”

“Morning, dear.” She studies me for a moment before speaking again. “I’m taking last night went well.”

“It was wonderful.” Placing John’s mug down, I open one of the upper cupboards and take out one for myself. “Up there with one of the best nights of my life.”

“I’m so glad you had a nice time.” She reaches out and takes the mug from me. “Coffee?”

“Please. Oh, and John would like a refill too.”

“You seem more relaxed this morning.” She gestures her head in the direction of the dining table.

I shrug. “We had a nice talk yesterday. I think it helped me understand him a little better.”

“I’m pleased to hear that. You’ll find he really is a lovely man if you give him half a chance.”

“So everyone keeps telling me.” I pause briefly. “But, in a way I feel like I’m betraying my mum.”

“That’s understandable. I’m not a mother, so I can’t profess to know how she’d feel, but if my daughter was left all alone in this world, I think it would give me comfort to know her father was looking out for her now.”

“Maybe,” I say. I’d never thought of it like that. “I know when she was dying, leaving me alone was one of her greatest fears.”

“I can only imagine.” Jill reaches out and tenderly rubs my back. “That would’ve been hard for her—for you both.”

When our coffees are ready, I carry them out to the table and place John’s in front of him before taking the seat opposite.

“Can I ask you something?” he says.

“Sure.”

“That perfume you were wearing last night, was that Opium?”

“Yes. How did you know that?”

“It’s the same fragrance your mother used to wear.”

“Yes, it is. That’s why I love it so much.”

“It reminds me so much of her. I even bought a bottle of it after she left. To you it may sound silly, but I missed her so much and smelling it gave me comfort.” He chuckles to himself before continuing. “Sometimes I even sprayed it on my pillow at night to help me sleep.” His eyes move down to the mug of coffee as his finger swirls around the rim. “You probably think that’s weird,” he says, clearing his throat. I don’t think it’s weird; I actually think it’s sweet. “Sometimes I even closed my eyes and imagined she was lying beside me.”

“Your wife never queried the smell of women’s perfume on your pillow?”

“We slept in separate rooms. As I told you yesterday, our marriage wasn’t a conventional one.” A feeling of pity washes over me. It sounds like his life wasn’t the greatest either.

“I always wear her perfume when I’m missing her,” I admit. “It makes me feel close to her, like she’s with me.”

He reaches for my hand, wrapping it in his. “We’re a sad and sorry pair, aren’t we?” He releases a small laugh. “But I guess when you love someone as much as we loved her, it’s only natural that we’d want to feel her presence.”

I’m starting to see that we have a lot more in common than I ever felt possible. It’s nice that I have someone who loved her as much as I did, someone to share these small things with. Jake knew her briefly, but he was never able to grasp the level of grief I felt when I lost her.

“I wish you had gotten the chance to make amends with her,” I say. “It would’ve meant the world to her.”