The Nearly-Weds (31 page)

As hurt and as damaged . . . as I am.

One thing is for sure. After 14 April – my wedding day – I’ve had quite enough of that sort of thing to keep me going until Christmas 2080, thank you very much. So have I really been getting drawn into another relationship that so obviously represents trouble it almost has flashing lights?

It can’t be true, surely. Ryan is supposed to be a distraction from my woes, a bit of light relief – not another problem.

Oh, God. I could be one of those weird, dysfunctional women who only ever get together with
bad men
, who thrive on the drama of being used and abused.

I hadn’t thought I liked being used and abused. I’d always thought my dream man would be someone who’d want to shower me with love and kisses and always put the toilet seat down. But maybe not.

Maybe a pattern’s emerging. First Jason leaves me standing at the altar, and now Ryan’s only in it for a bit of fun and is bang on course to leave me heartbroken. But how can I be heartbroken when it’s only a fling? It
is
a fling, isn’t it? Oh, God, I’m sick of that word.

I stomp into the hallway and spot Ryan with Barbara King, who has been hitting the mulled wine with almost as much purpose as her husband has.

I watch as she drains her glass, slams it on the table beside her and throws her arms round Ryan like a sex-starved groupie who hasn’t had a sniff of a Y chromosome since 1904.

As she takes off his cowboy hat and whispers in his ear, I can’t help thinking it’s a gesture some might call overly friendly. In fact, it couldn’t be more friendly if she had her hand down his chaps.

My eyes widen as Barbara, presumably neither noticing nor caring if anyone is looking, lowers her hand to Ryan’s backside, her manicured fingers squeezing one of his buttocks like it’s her personal executive-stress ball. Then she stands on tiptoe and kisses his ear.

My chest tightens and I don’t want to watch this any longer.

I rush into the living room in search of Trudie, desperate for someone to confide in. But when I get there, I can see she’s got other things on her mind.

‘Zoe! Zoe!’ squeals Ruby, jumping up and down. ‘Trudie’s going to get married and I’m going to be a flower-girl!’

Trudie lets go of Ritchie’s hand and holds out her fingers to me. She’s wearing a delicate diamond ring you can tell is beautiful even though her hand is shaking so much you’d think it was experiencing turbulence.

‘Is it – is it true?’ I gasp.

Trudie’s eyes are awash with tears and, although she tries to speak, her lip is trembling too much to let her.

‘Yeah, it’s true,’ Ritchie answers for her. ‘I’ve found the greatest woman in the world. There’s no way I’m letting her go.’

‘You really don’t mind about the—’ she begins.

‘Sssh,’ he whispers, clutching her hand. ‘We can always adopt.’

With her mascara blurring, Trudie grins so widely she looks as if she might faint.

‘Well done, you,’ I say, hugging her as my own eyes fill again. ‘Bloody well done.’

‘Thanks, love,’ she mutters, pulling back. ‘But are you okay, Zoe? You still look a bit funny after your fall.’

I’m sure I’m an appalling friend for saying this, but despite Trudie’s amazing news, the rest of the evening drags. Badly.

When we finally get rid of the last guest and put an overexcited, overtired Ruby and Samuel to bed, Ryan tries to put his arms round me. But I wriggle away.

‘Is everything okay?’ he asks, concerned.

‘Oh, yeah,’ I say dismissively. ‘I’m just knackered, that’s all. Do you mind if I help clear up in the morning and head for bed now?’

‘Of course not,’ he says, a hint of dejection in his eyes.

When I get into my room, I open the window and a whoosh of cold air hits my cheeks as if I’m caught in the path of a snow machine. I pull my duvet round me as I collapse into bed. I try to close my eyes but I feel far too agitated to sleep.

I’d somehow convinced myself that being with Ryan would help me get over what happened this year. But how empty it feels now, how pointless.

Who even wants a fling when it’s with someone who’s going to allow Barbara King to become intimately acquainted with their bottom, and when you’re just one in a long line of women?

As I sit up again, my eyes are drawn to something poking out from behind my chest of drawers. I climb out of bed and retrieve it. It’s the
OK
! magazine I bought in England on the day I left, all those months ago. The cover has coffee stains all over it, but as I leaf through the crumpled pages, I’m transported home so rapidly it’s as if someone’s opened a floodgate.

Suddenly I long to be in Woolton, ironing my uniform for nursery tomorrow and making sure I pack an apron to keep it clean during Christmas decoration-making season. I long to be kissing Jason goodnight as I head upstairs to bed, leaving him to watch the end of
Match
of the Day.
I long to be drawing the curtains my mum made for us and jumping into bed to read a Jackie Collins until I drift off, stirring only momentarily when I feel Jason slip in next to me.

Suddenly I feel so homesick I ache.

I’m jolted out of my thoughts as a sound invades the silence. My mobile is ringing.

I suspect it’s Trudie, wanting to talk about her engagement. But I can’t bring myself to listen to her now, I really can’t. I lean over to grab the phone and try to work out whether I can cut it off without her knowing. But it isn’t her number on the screen.

It’s Jason’s. And for once I don’t have a doubt in my mind what I’m going to do.

Chapter 75

‘Jason. How are you?’ My voice sounds remarkably calm, considering that my heart is pounding so hard it feels ready to leap out of my chest and tap-dance across the dressing-table.

Suddenly there’s a loud crash, followed by so much clattering I have to hold the phone away from my ear. Then it stops.

‘Zoe?’ His voice is instantly recognizable, instantly familiar, instantly heart-stopping. ‘Zoe, are you there? Sorry about that. I dropped the phone.’

Jason is uncharacteristically nervous, which throws me.

‘Zoe? You are there, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ I reply, then can’t think of anything else to say.

‘Zoe, I’ve thought about making this phone call every day for the last eight months. In fact, I’ve phoned you a few times but – well, I’ve always been cut off.’

I’m still stumped for something to say.

‘But now that I’ve managed to get hold of you,’ he continues, ‘I don’t know where to begin.’

Hearing Jason again is like the first sip of champagne after months of abstinence. It’s as delectable and irresistible as it’s risky. I find myself craving him, longing to be with him in person. Despite this, I have to start with the obvious question. There’s no alternative.

‘How about telling me why you stood me up on our wedding day?’ I ask.

‘Of course,’ he says awkwardly. ‘Well, that’s a good question. A question I’ve asked myself every second of every day since. All I can say is, it was a moment of madness.’

There’s another silence.

‘Are you saying you regret it?’ I ask.

‘
Yes
,’ he says, with more than a hint of desperation. ‘Yes, I regret it. It was insane.’

‘Insane?’

‘Utterly crazy,’ he continues. ‘I don’t know what came over me or how to explain it.’

‘Well, try.’

‘Okay, okay. The truth is, I was scared. I can’t put my finger on why – but I was. I suppose it was just the idea of being with one person for the rest of my life. It kept nagging at me.’

‘It’s called marriage, Jason,’ I tell him flatly.

‘I know, I know! And marriage is something I wanted. That I
do
want. But the day before the wedding, well, I was terrified. Really bloody terrified. Which is stupid because you and I had been together for so long that, logic tells me, we would have been fine for much, much longer. For ever, in fact. But that didn’t stop me feeling . . . claustrophobic. Panicky. Fraught—’

‘Oh, stop!’

‘Sorry.’

I immediately wish I hadn’t jumped in. I want to get to the bottom of all this, don’t I? ‘No,’ I say. ‘Carry on.’

He takes a breath. ‘Right,’ he continues. ‘Well, the thing is, Zoe, I’d been fine about the whole getting-married thing. I mean, I loved you and was just happy to be with you without all the bells and whistles of a bloody big ceremony. But I knew you wanted to do it and that was fine. In fact, it was more than fine. But my feelings towards the whole thing seemed to change the closer we got to the day. And by the morning, when Neil and I were getting ready, it was like I was in shock. I couldn’t bring myself to put my suit on. I just stood there, unable to move, unable to do anything except panic and listen to Neil getting more and more hysterical as time went on.’

I still don’t say anything.

‘Are you still there?’ he asks.

‘Yes.’

‘Well, it got to ten past two and I still didn’t have my suit on and all I could do was lie on my bed and try not to think about it. Try not to think about you going through what you must have been going through. I just wanted to close my eyes and block everything out.’

He pauses again.

‘This isn’t making me feel any better,’ I lie.

‘Isn’t it?’ he asks anxiously. ‘No. I don’t suppose it is. I mean, why would it? I ruined your big day. How could I possibly make that better?’

He sounds like a little boy. Hurt and bewildered because he’s done something catastrophic that he can’t reverse. Despite everything, I find myself wanting to reach out and hug him. To feel his arms round me. But there are 3,500 miles of ocean between us.

‘Zoe,’ he mumbles, ‘I’d do anything to get you back.’

I hesitate. Then, ‘How can you say that after what happened? After what you did?’

‘Because I know now – more than ever – that I love you,’ he says. ‘You’re the only woman I’ll ever love. I know I’ll never be able to turn back the clock, but I wish I could. My life’s over without you, Zoe.’

‘Don’t be daft.’

‘I mean it,’ he insists. ‘What I want more than anything in this world is the chance to start again with you. For you and me to get back what we had. I know I don’t deserve you, but I thought you ought to know how I feel. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I hadn’t told you.’

I slump back on the bed, close my eyes and think. In fact, I think so much my head starts to hurt.

But no matter how hard I try, I can’t help but come to one conclusion. A conclusion I know my friends, my family, my former colleagues and all the guests who turned up on my wedding day would consider so certifiably insane that nothing short of a full-frontal lobotomy would help me now.

But everyone deserves a second chance, don’t they?

Chapter 76

I only have to touch Ryan’s shoulder and he stirs.

‘Hey,’ he murmurs, with a sleepy smile. ‘I was hoping you’d change your mind. I can’t seem to make it through the night without you any more.’

I’m sitting on the edge of his bed, fully dressed. It takes him a second to notice this, but when he does he sits up and rubs his eyes. ‘What is it? Is something the matter?’

‘No,’ I whisper. ‘It’s just—’

‘Why are you dressed?’ he asks, bewildered.

‘Ryan, there are some issues I need to sort out back home,’ I tell him. ‘A couple of things have happened and I need to . . . well, I need to deal with them.’

‘Okay,’ he says slowly, putting his hand on my arm. ‘Is there anything I can help with?’

‘No,’ I reply. ‘I just need to go home. Quickly.’

Realization sweeps across his face. ‘You’re not leaving now?’

I gulp. ‘There’s a flight that leaves in a few hours,’ I tell him. ‘I couldn’t believe they had a spare seat so close to Christmas but they did – so I ought to take it. There won’t be another chance to get home until after Boxing Day, I’m sure.’

He stares at me, incredulous, and I feel the need to give him some sort of explanation.

‘My mum’s not very well,’ I blurt out, feeling guilty for using my mother’s hypochondria as an excuse.

‘Is it serious?’

‘I – I don’t think so,’ I mutter, ‘but I probably ought to get home to make sure and . . .’ I take an envelope from my back pocket. ‘This should explain some things, Ryan,’ I tell him. I hand it over and he takes it, his eyes not leaving mine. ‘Something happened before I came here that I didn’t want to discuss with anyone. So I haven’t. Not with anyone. It was all too – too painful. But I hope you’ll understand when you read it.’

He looks down at the letter. ‘You are coming back, aren’t you, Zoe?’ he asks.

I bite my lip. ‘I – I’ve left a message with the nanny agency asking them to send a replacement as soon as possible. So, whatever happens, you won’t be without childcare.’

‘Zoe,’ he frowns, ‘it’s not about the childcare, for God’s sake.’

Tears well in my eyes.

‘I – I feel awful not being able to say goodbye to Ruby and Samuel,’ I continue, pretending not to have heard him. ‘Will you please give them a kiss for me and tell them I’ll phone them as soon as I can? I’ve written them a letter too and their Christmas presents are in the cupboard next to my bed. I haven’t had time to wrap them, I’m afraid, but—’

My rambling runs out of steam and I want to get out of here before the tears in my eyes spill out uncontrollably.

I’m about to leave, when Ryan kneels up on his bed and grabs my arm. Then he cups my head in his hands and kisses me as tenderly, as passionately, as beautifully as ever.

I know it’s the last time we’ll kiss like this and the thought overwhelms me. Despite what Felicity said. Despite what I saw Barbara doing to him. Despite how much I love Jason.

The next thing I know, tears are pouring down my cheeks and I can’t stop kissing him, no matter how swollen my mouth and wet my skin.

Eventually I manage to pull away.

‘I’m sorry.’ I back towards the door and tear my eyes away from his bewilderment. ‘I’m really sorry.’

The cab is waiting outside when I get downstairs, its engine purring. As I shut the door behind me, I lift my bag and am taken aback by how heavy it is. I feel as if I’m dragging the dead body of a large yak.