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the-haven-of-fiction · 5 years

Text

Journal

Title: The Haven

Chapter 44: Journal (Tom’s POV)

Genre: Romance

Rating: T

Author’s Notes: It’s been over five years since I wrote this chapter and over four years since I posted the previous chapter and the reality of posting this one is almost making cry. Time is so strange. If you are still interested in this story, thank you. If this story is new to you, please check out the Master Post. <3

“Tom, have you ever cheated?”

The question absolutely stunned me. She had just walked into the living room and was holding what looked like an old book.

She was speaking so softly, it was almost a whisper.

“What?”

I thought I understood what she had said, but I wanted to be certain.

Moving to take a seat on the couch, she set the book down with great care, as if it was very valuable to her.

Her tongue darted out, a nervous wetting of her lips, before she repeated the question.

“Have you ever cheated on anyone?”

So many different thoughts were zigzagging through my mind, I couldn’t speak right away.

Have I given you any reason to ask the question?

Do you think I would cheat, on you?

Do you not trust me after all?

The last thought brought a tremor of fear.

I looked down at the engagement ring on her hand that was resting on a throw pillow. Taking it gently and running my fingers over it, I looked into her eyes, hoping that they would tell me what exactly she was thinking.

“I love you, sweet girl.”

Now her voice was indeed a whisper.

“I love you, too.”

A faint sense of relief shot through me that she was able to say it. I didn’t know what was bringing this on, but it was scaring me.

“You asked me to marry you, darling. Remember?” I prompted with a smile a gentle brush of my fingers across a flushed cheek. “I want to marry you. Will you marry me?”

It wasn’t the first time I had asked her after the initial proposal. Usually she laughed and kissed me and told me how silly I was. This time, she frowned in confusion and tears were beginning to form in her eyes.

“If…if the answer to your question isn’t what you hope it will be, will you…will you still want to marry me?”

Now the tears spilled over, but her voice was gaining a little strength.

“I gave you my word, Tom,” she assured me as she lifted her hand and pointed to the ring.

“I would never have let you put this on me if I didn’t think that you would be faithful to me.”

Her eyes closed and she dropped her head, drawing deep slow breaths.

It wasn’t exactly an answer to my question.

Sensing that she had more to say, I waited, even though I had yet to answer her own question.

She raised her head finally.

“I just found an old journal from when I was a teenager. There was a quote from Reverend Powers. He said when you marry someone, you marry their past; you marry the triumphs of their past, you marry the mistakes of their past, and you marry the current consequences of those triumphs and mistakes.”

Another pause.

Again I knew she wasn’t finished.

Patience, old chap. Give her time.

“Tom, seeing Sam last week, it…it made me think about some things. One of the reasons I wanted to be with him was because we had known each literally our whole lives. We grew up together. I knew his triumphs and I knew his mistakes. I knew that I could live with the consequences of those things. It was safe. There weren’t any unknowns. It wasn’t a risk.”

She looked down and began to twist the ring round and round her finger.

“It’s different with you. It’s unknown. It’s a risk. We met barely eight months ago. There are so many things about me that you don’t know, there are so many things about you that I don’t know.”

Her voice was getting weaker again and I felt like I was going to have to stop her even if she had more to say.

“I…I’m frustrated that we missed so much of each other’s lives, that we don’t have memories of birthday parties and holidays and BBQ’s. I’m sad that we don’t have albums full of awkward adolescent photos together. We’ve talked a lot about the present and the future, but we haven’t talked much about the past, and I…”

I was sitting in one of the armchairs adjacent to the couch and up to that point, I was making a conscious effort not to spring from my seat and wrap my arms around her. I didn’t want to overwhelm her or make things worse.

But she wiped away a few tears that were immediately followed by more and when she whispered “Angel face, please,” I knew exactly what she was asking.

I was next to her in a flash, holding her as close as I could, as if I could transfer all the fear into my body so that she wouldn’t have to feel it anymore.

I was surprised when she spoke again so soon.

“I don’t want the past to sneak up on us one day. I don’t want those kinds of surprises. I love you and I want to marry you, regardless of your answer. But please, tell me the truth.”

I quickly decided that while it seemed she was actually thinking about two separate issues, it would be best if I addressed her actual question first before moving to talk about the lack of shared history.

“I have a single drunken sloppy kiss to confess. That is all. I was very young, too young. And the only reason I know it even happened is because she gave me a strong right hook while my girlfriend looked on in glee. I had the black eye to prove it the next day.”

Expecting her to laugh, I was alarmed when she began to cry harder.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she stuttered out, “I hope I haven’t hurt you by asking, Tom, I-“

“Darling, stop. Your concerns are completely valid. You have every right to ask me. You have every right to learn about my triumphs and my mistakes. I will tell you anything you want to know. You’re going to be my wife, sweet girl. We can’t hide anything from each other.”

She sighed when my fingers found her wrist and began the familiar dance over her skin, appearing to be content with my answer. I moved on to the second thing that was plaguing her.

“I can’t say that I ever considered the lack of shared memories like you have, but that’s probably because I am just so immensely grateful to have met you at all. I’m grateful for these nine months. They have been the most exhilarating, the most edifying, the most beautifully terrifying eight months I’ve ever experienced.”

I had to stop and kiss her before continuing.

“Do you know what you tell me if our positions were reversed? You would tell me that we can’t change the past and that we should not spend time dwelling on that non-existent shared past; we should instead focus on making memories now.”

“I make entirely too much sense most of the time,” she sniffled.

That made me chuckle.

“Yes, you do, my prickly pear,” punctuated by a kiss to the tip of her nose. “You’re the sense. I’m the sensibility. That’s why we need each other. That’s why we fit together. That’s why you asked me to marry you. That’s why I asked you to marry me. Will you? Will you marry me, sweet girl?”

“Yes,” she whispered against my freckles, “a thousand times, yes.”

“And for each of those thousand yeses, there will be a thousand memories we will make together.”

“I love it when you talk purty, England.”

I shifted so that I was speaking very close to her.

“And I love these adorable little ears that listen to me.”

She giggled and shied away from me when my breath fell on her neck.

“That tickles, Tom.”

“Shall I move back to the armchair?”

A pinch was my answer.

“No,” she pouted, “I have something to show you.”

She reached over and picked up the journal which I had earlier mistaken for a book.

“I found a loose piece of paper in this journal. It’s a list I made after...after Sam moved away and some time passed and I…I started to consider the idea of marrying someone else.”

It was a struggle, but I managed to keep from smiling; I didn’t want her to think that I was making fun of her, especially when she seemed to be ready to talk about something so serious. Her lists. They were one of the quirks I so loved about her.

The journal was opened and she took out the paper.

“This is a list I made, after giving it some thought, of the kind of person I want to marry. Reverend Powers also said ‘Know what you want before you go looking for it.’ I thought of how much thought people put into decisions like which color carpet they want for their bedroom or what car to buy, but they don’t usually think much about the practical side of marriage, about the qualities they want and need in spouse.”

“That’s very true, my philosopher.”

Another pinch.

“So I made a list. It’s several years old. Here.”

She shoved it towards me.

I don’t know why, but I was hesitant. I didn’t want to know if I measured up to the list.

“It isn’t poisonous. Be brave, angel face.”

She was smiling.

Taking a deep breath, I plucked it from her hand and unfolded it.

It took me less than a minute to read it. When I looked back at her, she was still smiling.

“Darling, this…this is…this is…”

“I know,” she nodded. “It’s you. Well, except for a few minor things, which you can see that I noted those things as not being deal breakers, mainly because they are the only things that refer to superficial qualities and aren’t about character or personality.”

I glanced back over it, a slow grin spreading across my face; it was so HER.

“Yes, I see that dark hair is asterixed. You’ll probably get your wish at some point.”

The smile vanished in an instant.

“I love my British golden retriever. Will you please give me warning before you morph into a black shorthair?”

I had to giggle and leaned forward to give her a peck on the cheek before pulling back and placing a hand over my heart.

“I promise.”

Looking at the list again, there were two things that stood out to me.

“Darling, this one…”

I turned the paper to her gaze and pointed at one of the entries.

Strengths that are my weaknesses.

“Do you think this is true? Is this accurate for me?”

My expression of apprehension seem to take her off guard.

“Oh, Tom! Of course, of course! You are strong in so many areas that are weaknesses of mine.”

“I…I guess I think of you as a very strong, very intelligent woman and I-“

A soft hand covered my mouth and stopped my doubts.

“That’s very sweet of you, England, but I have faults and weaknesses enough. Do you know the greatest thing I have learned from you, something that is a perfectly depicts this dynamic?”

This was the first time I’d ever had this kind of conversation with someone and I was finding myself rather emotional.

“I’ve learned how to see and respond to the person first instead of just responding to the problem. You’ve helped me to be more empathetic, more caring. Thank you.”

The hand that had been over my mouth traveled to my back and she was rubbing little patterns across my shoulders and down my spine. It reminded me of the first time she had touched me, when we group hugged in the kitchen with Auntie and Marie and I stuck my foot in my mouth like a tit.

She could see that I was a bit overwhelmed and she pointed to another entry on the list.

“Tom, look at this one.”

I saw that she was pointing to the second thing that stood out to me.

Will tell me, gently and patiently, when I am wrong and will help me discover how to be better.

We sat in silence for a bit, her face resting against my shoulder.

“What are you thinking, angel face?” she inquired softly.

I set the list on the coffee table and took both of her hands in mine, looking directly into her eyes.

“I am thinking that you surprise me every day, every day. I suppose at some point, these things shouldn’t surprise me any longer. But you are the only woman I have ever met, at least as far as I know, who has a list like this, with these types of things on it. Darling, these descriptions actually reveal a great deal more about you than about the kind of person you want to marry. They reveal a woman who desires to love and trust someone so wholly and completely, that it astounds me. That love and that trust, they are the most precious gifts that any person could ever give. This explains so much about you, my love, so much. I don’t know why you’ve chosen to give them to me, but I promise you, I will do my best to treasure them and I will do my best to fulfill the things on this list. I want to be that man for you. You…”

I leaned a bit to rest my forehead against hers for a moment.

“You don’t know what it does to me to know that you give, that you gave me, these things from the beginning and then during the times when I behaved in a way that would make many people retract them. I know it’s a frightening thing to love and trust like you, amazingly, love and trust me; but, my sweet girl, it’s also a frightening thing to be the person who is loved and trusted so whole-heartedly. It’s the most awe-inspiring, dreadfully breathtaking thing I’ve ever encountered and all I can ask is that you please, please continue to be patient with me when I err, just as you have always been.”

“Yes, I will try.”

How I adored the loving tone in her voice, the warmth of those big brown eyes, the delicious plumpness of those pink lips.

“My sweet prickly pear, will you kiss me?”

Merriment danced across her face.

“Only if it’s a freebie and doesn’t count against my daily allotment.”

I cupped her cheeks and murmured “Is that on your list as well?”

She stifled a giggle.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you about entries of that nature until after we’re married.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fan fiction #the haven #journal

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