Page 132 of Nineteen Letters

I bundled my dad into the car, and off we went. She wasn’t lying when she said it was a shack. It was a one-bedroom fibro house that had been built in the early forties. It desperately needed some TLC, but in a way, it was perfect. It meant when we could afford to, we’d be able to knock it down and build your dream house. I had already started drawing the plans for it.

The old man who’d lived there had recently passed away and his two sons were looking for a quick sale. The asking price was more than the four hundred thousand I had, but my father agreed to give me an interest-free loan for the rest until I got on my feet.

Apart from planning to go on a cruise, he was going to bank the money he had left from the sale. I guess whenyou’ve struggled financially for as long as he had, you don’t part with your fortune easily.

It was further down the beach than I originally would have liked, but that view … it was breathtaking. My heart raced just thinking about your reaction. I knew you were going to love it.

The twenty-ninth of November 2012. I’d now graduated, and uni was over for you for the year. With my new purchase in mind, I had moved back home temporarily and was putting all my efforts into finding local employment.

You cried when I told you of my plans, because it meant that we would be separated again.

“I thought you were going to look for work closer to campus so we could still see each other every day.”

“This wasn’t an easy decision for me, Jem,” I told you. “It makes sense. I don’t want to get settled in a job and have to leave in a year’s time when you graduate. I wantus both to eventually settle back home. I want our kids to grow up in that area, just like we did.”

“Our kids?”

As soon as I mentioned kids, the tears stopped, and your face lit up with a huge smile.

I pulled you into my arms. “Yes, our kids. I’m going to marry you one day, Jemma Robinson, so of course there are kids in our future.”

For the time being, I seemed to have dodged a bullet, but I knew once you found out the real reason, you’d forgive me completely.

You’d spent the morning at the beautician with your mother, which gave me time to set everything up. Of course, your parents and my father were all in on this. They’d helped me immensely over the past few weeks.

Later that afternoon, I asked you if you wanted to go for a walk along the beach. I held your hand as we strolled along the shore.

“There’s something I want to show you,” I said, once we were close.

I led you across the sand towards the shack. Your parents and my father had helped me clean the place up. We’d given the interior and exterior a fresh coat of paint; the outside was now white, with blue trim around thewindowsills. It was a long way from your dream house, but at least the colours and the location weren’t.

My dad had sanded back the wooden floors inside, before re-staining them. He’d even retiled some of the bathroom. He no longer had the store to go to, so he was grateful for something to do.

Your parents bought us a small sofa, a television, a bedroom suite, and all new appliances for our kitchen. Your mum had taken you shopping a few weeks earlier, under the false pretence of redecorating your bedroom at their house. She got you to pick out the colour scheme, as well as a rug, new linen and curtains.

“What are you doing?” you asked as we reached the back door.

“I said I had something to show you.”

“I know, but you can’t break into somebody’s house.”

“I have a key,” I said, pulling it out of my pocket and dangling it in front of you. “So, technically, I’m not breaking in.” Your face screwed up into a cute little frown as I unlocked the door. “Ladies first.”

Your head darted around to see if anyone was watching us, and I chuckled at the fact that you thought we were doing something illegal. I reached for your hand, guiding you through the doorway.

The place was tiny, so we only had to take a few steps down the hallway, past the kitchen on the right and laundry on the left, before entering the small lounge room. I’d organised for your mum to come to the house as soon as we’d left to go for our walk, to light the thirty-odd candles I’d placed strategically throughout the room.

“Braxton,” you gasped, halting. “What’s all this?”

“This is our new home. I bought it for you, Jem. It’s not much, but I promise you when I can afford it, I’ll build you your dream house.”

Your eyes widened, and your mouth gaped open, but before you had a chance to reply, I got down on one knee. “Almost seventeen years ago, I met an angel when she moved in next door. Over the months and years that followed, you became my life … the reason I look forward to waking up every day. I love you Jemma Isabella Rosalie Robinson. I always have, and I always will. You own my heart, my body and my soul … I wouldn’t be complete if you weren’t by my side. Say you’ll be my forever girl, Jem … marry me?”

You didn’t answer straight away, and although tears were streaming down your face, you were smiling. I saw you pinch yourself a few times as I waited for your reply.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m making sure I’m not dreaming.”