by Jessica Leed
He gave her a weak smile. ‘The washing’s nearly done, and dishwasher is unstacked.’
She did her best to flash him a convincing one, even if it didn’t mirror the condition of her heart.
She threw the doona back and lowered her feet to the floor and took his hand before he had the chance to escape her. His fingers eased their way between hers. She squeezed them gently. ‘I love you.’ They were three words she hadn’t voiced in a while, but she still meant them.
His eyes darted back and forth, fighting against hers. It was almost although he didn’t believe her. She kept her eyes on his, hoping he would look into her as deeply as he once had. But they were lost, more lost than they have never been. Yet, his smile made her question otherwise. ‘You too,’ his words came as a whisper. He didn’t say it back but pulled her in closer. ‘What would you like to do today?’ He cradled her head as she nuzzled into him, enjoying feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest.
‘Well, first of all I would love you to help me eat these amazing pancakes of yours, then maybe later we could go for a walk or go to Nancy Green’s?’
He thought for a moment, then nodded. ‘That sounds like a plan to me. Let’s go to Nancy’s. I want to see if their steak burger is as good as I remember.’
‘I’ve heard it’s still pretty amazing,’ she said, squeezing him tighter.
‘Well in that case I better reserve my appetite and leave all these pancakes to you.’ He gently dug his fingers into her sides, sending her body in spasms as he tickled her. She shielded her arms around herself in protection as he playfully extended his arms, ready for more. She let out a squeal as he sent her back down onto the bed, knowing all too well how ticklish she was.
They continued that way for a few moments, enjoying each other’s banter before he insisted she ate her pancakes before they got cold. She took the tray beside her and positioned it on her lap while he returned to the study. She took a look at the perfectly rounded pancake positioned perfectly on her plate and smiled. This had to be more than the calorie limit. It didn’t matter that they were hard like cardboard, she just appreciated the effort he had made for her. His way of wanting to make things right stirred a hope inside of her. And for the first time in a long time, she was looking forward to their day together.
As she worked on getting them down, she noticed him enter the kitchen before quickly exiting with a beer in his hands. She noticed the conscious effort he made to hide the bottle behind his back, walking sideways like a crab back to the study. The thought of him sneaking around as he bribed her with pancakes was enough for any glimmer of hope to be completely squashed. How many had he had already this morning? The thought of him smashing down beers while she was sound asleep was enough for her to want to throw up. The pancakes suddenly became unbearably bland in her mouth, a chore to chew and swallow. Part of her wanted to go to him, but she knew if she did their conversation would quickly turn sour, the way it always did.
And then just like that, their plans for the day would be over.
She took a breath and focused on the sound of the gentle buzz of the washing machine to steady her soul. He had put in an effort this morning. She couldn’t overlook that fact.
It was a small step forward.
It had been months since they had been to Nancy’s but even so, not much had changed with the place. It was presented the same way with delicate fairy lights hanging from the roof in an enclosed tavern like setting. She reached for the door, setting off the bobble doorbell as it opened. Immediately the homely atmosphere calmed her like a remedy. She scanned her eyes around, her nostrils responding to the blend of aromas around her. The tables filled with people of a variety of ages betrothed in laughter and conversation. Just being back brought upon a feeling of comfort.
Jeremy was quick to spot them from behind the counter. With open arms he cantered his way around the line of customers towards them. He was a short, stocky, middle aged man, with a personality that could light the darkest room. His love for people and attention to detail to produce fine, quality food had sparked quite a name for himself. If it wasn’t for him there wouldn’t be a carriage of customers waiting to be seated each day. The cafe simply wouldn’t have the reputation it did without him.
‘Look who it is! My favourite couple!’ He stood between them, reaching his arms around them, drawing them in close. ‘Where have you two been all my life?’
It was a fair question and it made her stall for a moment. She couldn’t pinpoint the last time they were here. Was it a year ago? She honestly couldn’t remember. ‘It’s our favourite man! And too long, I know!’ She nestled in next to him, embracing the hug.
Patrick flashed one of his half smiles and observed the room. ‘Looks like a full house today. Guess we’ll have to take a seat out back, huh?’
Sienna felt herself frowning at his comment, agitated at his lack of acknowledgement towards the man who had always treated them like family. She thought she could sense a flicker of offence in Jeremy’s eyes, but his bubbly personality made it too hard to know for sure.
‘Ah, don’t you worry, there is always room for you two!’ He waved the comment off and led them down to a table in the far back corner. ‘I know it’s not your usual spot but the food tastes just as good here as it does from the other side of the room, I promise,’ he joked. His eyes fixed on Patrick as he sat down grunting as though he was some sort of king being mistreated.
Sienna watched him too, embarrassed at the way he was behaving. She didn’t know who he was anymore.
‘Thanks mate,’ his response short, but polite enough. At least he had found his manners.
‘No problem-o.’ He handed them menus, widened his stance and positioned his hands on his hips. His usual posture whenever he was up for a chat.
‘I thought you guys must have eloped and whisked off to Hawaii or something, it’s been that long since I have seen ya! Tell me, what’s news in your world?’
She looked at her fiancé, hoping he had an answer up his sleeve to pull out. He was usually quick like that. But his eyes held no expression as he flipped open the menu and pretended to study it. Disappointment took root inside her. She wanted to snatch the menu off him and order the steak burger he already knew he was having.
She cleared her throat and presented Jeremy with one of her biggest smiles. ‘It’s a tempting thought!’ If it meant that she would actually make it down the aisle, then she was all for it. ‘This year has all been a bit crazy, you know how it is! Sorry we’ve been so slack to not have payed you a visit. Please forgive us!’ It was all she had.
Jeremy nodded understandingly, and let out one of his booming laughs. ‘I can only imagine! Wedding plans and all! Last time we spoke I think you guys were looking at a summer wedding. Is that still happening you slack buggers?’
It was the ultimate question, wasn’t it?
The bulge in her stomach tightened. She should have known the question was coming but she hadn’t given any thought about how she would answer. The question was enough for Patrick to look up. She was desperate for him to say something, anything. But instead he looked at her with an intrigued look, as if he too, was curious for an answer. She raked her hair behind her ears, her usual go to whenever she was anxious.
Jeremy must have noticed the silence and being intuitive as he was, waved it off. ‘Whenever you guys get around to it, I am sure it will be perfect!’ He turned to Patrick. ‘Steak burger for you? I don’t know what I was thinking giving you a menu honestly,’ he laughed.
Patrick nodded with a smile so big, she couldn’t help but glare at him from across the table. ‘Yes please! The best steak burger in the history of mankind, how can I say no!’
She could see how relieved he was to have had the door shut on all the wedding talk. His enthusiasm was borderline pathetic.
Jeremy nodded. ‘And the carbonara for you my sweetness?’ He began
to collect the menus.
She caught Patrick’s frown and subtle shake of disapproval. Was he kidding?
‘Someone’s watching what she eats so she can fit into this wedding dress of hers,’ he pitched in.
Okay, so, he wasn’t kidding.
She stared at him, shocked at the blatant lie that slipped from his mouth with ease.
‘Was it the warm chicken salad you were telling me about that you wanted to try, babe?’ his tone gentle and all loving.
She pursed her lips together, feeling herself fume beneath.
There had been no such conversation.
She hated the control he seemed to have over her. And to have the nerve to be so manipulative when they were supposed to be enjoying a nice afternoon out together, made her even angrier. But with Jeremy watching she knew she had to go along with it.
‘Sounds perfect,’ she said, sarcastically.
Jeremy nodded slowly, obviously aware of the tension between them. ‘Right! I better get back to it but catch me on ya way out, won’t ya! Love you guys.’
They gave him a wave and he dashed off to help serve a flood of customers spewing from the doors. She positioned her eyes on Patrick as he casually took out his phone, his eyes making every attempt to avoid hers. ‘Trying to watch my weight so I fit into my wedding dress, hey?’ She couldn’t help herself. It was time to speak up.
‘It’s never too late to start getting into shape. Especially after that pizza you devoured the other night.’ He didn’t look at her but his face held a smirk as he scrolled through his phone.
She couldn’t understand it. For as long as she has known him, she had never had an issue with her weight. Maybe she didn’t exercise enough according to his standards, but she was far from being out of shape. Some would say she was even too skinny. Sure, like anyone, she had her moments. In those moments of weakness, he had discovered her stashes of chocolate and, to this very day, ridiculed her for it. But that was the extent of it. She was always conscious of making healthy food choices, keeping to his strict calorie guideline set out for her. Maybe he didn’t find her attractive anymore.
The very thought made her stomach clench.
‘I would like to start looking for my dress soon. I have an idea what I like but until I try anything on, I can’t be set on a style,’ the words sailed from her mouth without thinking. She was tired of forever avoiding the topic when it was constantly sitting at the forefront of her mind.
He placed his phone down and settled himself into the chair. She had his attention. She inhaled, suddenly nervous. At least he appeared as though he was ready to talk about it. There was no reason why this has to be difficult, she was ready to try again.
‘What are your thoughts on me taking a look at some of the bridal shops next weekend?’ Her tone gentle, not daring to take her pleading eyes off him. She only hoped he could sense her energy.
He cleared his throat. ‘Is that really something you feel you need to rush into?’
What?
‘Rush into? Really?’ She couldn’t help but allow her voice jump up an octave. Before they knew it, it would be a bloody decade. Surely then they would hold some sort of record for the longest engagement in history.
He raised his eyes, and leaned in. ‘Are we really going to do this now?’ he hissed aggressively. She flickered her eyes around the room to see if anyone was looking in, but everyone was engaged in their own conversations. The laughter in the room mocked her, especially now, booming louder than ever.
‘I just want us to be able to talk about it,’ she said, defeated. When had a simple conversation become such an ordeal? She had no idea what he wanted from her anymore. Her mind was blank. She knew she had to ask the question that had been strewing in her mind for months now. ‘When do you see us getting married?’ She looked into his eyes, desperate to seek some sort of validation. But his eyes were absent.
They held nothing.
‘Do you really think with the way things have been between us that we’re ready to plan a wedding?’
The question completely threw her. It was obvious that their relationship was fragile, the years had only seemed to water down any strength that had once been there.
The truth was, he has hit the nail on the head. But even then, the answer was too painful to face.
A commitment had been made on that perfect night he proposed. No matter where they stood now, they were a team. It didn’t matter they had been fighting the same storm for the past five years. Together they would find their way out of it.
She was sure of it.
She stretched out her hands out towards him, reluctantly he took them in his. ‘I know things have been better between us.’ She squeezed his fingers wanting to have some form of connection in this moment. ‘And you’re right. Until they are, the wedding stuff can wait. But can you be honest with me about something?’ She felt herself struggling for oxygen in anticipation for his answer to the question she knew that needed to be ask.
‘Of course.’ His expression didn’t flicker.
‘Do you still want to marry me?’ She wasn’t sure if he had heard her. She could barely hear the words come from her mouth over the pounding of her own heart.
He dropped her hands and sent them into his lap as hers laid exposed on the table towards him. Her eyes began to well as he withdrew from her during a time where she needed his reassurance the most.
‘I don’t know what you’re trying to do, manipulating me like this,’ his words came harsh, impaling her.
She felt a trickle of cold liquid run through her. Why wouldn’t he answer the bloody question?
‘Do you?’
He picked up his phone again and started shaking his head. ‘For fuck’s sake, we are not going to do this here,’ he responded, irritated.
She took in a sharp breath. ‘When are we going to talk about it? I’m starting to think you don’t want this anymore.’ She felt a tear slither its way down her cheek, but she actually didn’t care.
And so it seemed, neither did he.
‘Not at the moment, I don’t,’ he hissed. ‘Look at the attention you’re drawing to yourself, it’s ridiculous.’ He continued to play on his phone, not seeming to care in the slightest that her heart was being shattered into a thousand pieces.
She knew she had to hold herself together. She was an ugly crier. She wouldn’t have herself looking all blotchy by the time Jeremy returned. She considered asking him if he still loved her as she hadn’t had the words reciprocated in months.
But she decided against it.
She knew if she raised such question he would probably walk out, leaving her stranded in a room full of people looking back at her sympathetically. The thought alone was enough for her to let it go. Besides, she was too scared to know the answer.
Instead she put on a brave face, poured herself a glass of water and smiled as she exchanged a little wave to the familiar customers nearby. She could hardly wait for their food to arrive so they could quickly eat what would be another silent meal together before heading home. The only thing was, home didn’t feel like home anymore.
It had begun to feel a lot like a prison.
Five
Just like that, it was the final week of the semester and parent-teacher interviews were in full swing.
It had been another crazy week with preparations leading up to the night. So far, Sienna had managed to push through the first group of interviews smoothly, despite feeling delirious from sleep deprivation. As predicted, it had been yet another week of walking on egg shells. No further conversations about wedding plans had been mentioned since that hideous afternoon at Nancy Green’s. She had held off visiting the bridal shops—they too would take a back seat. Although this didn’t stop her from taking a stroll past the stores on several occasions, admiring the beautiful gowns that only seemed to glare at her from the window bay
s.
There had been many nights where Patrick would return home late from a night out with his mates or work colleagues, drunk as anything.
It was part of the routine now, one she had grown accustomed to.
But what she hadn’t grown accustomed to, was the accumulating expense of Ubers. She would often willingly offer to pick him as she waited up for him at some ridiculous hour in the morning, but he would bluntly refuse, scorning her for being ‘his mother’. It crossed her mind that he wasn’t seeing friends at all, that maybe there was another woman in the picture, but she chose to hold those thoughts captive. There was no reason to be paranoid.
With holidays about to begin, she should have felt a weight lifted from her shoulders, but somehow the load only felt heavier. She liked routine. Especially with its way of distracting her from the daily ache inside her. She wasn’t sure how she was going to fill her days. Yet, the thought of having nothing planned made her uneasy. She found it almost impossible to relax, especially when everything she did was never good enough.
Well, according to Patrick’s standards anyway.
Back in the day she would spend the winter holidays in Aringdale, watching the local dance competitions for hours on end in the little old theatre in which they were held. She found herself smiling at the memories. It didn’t feel that long ago where she was one of them, competing year in and out. It used to be the big event all the dance schools worked towards, preparing their students for an absurd number of routines, sending parents broke with ridiculous costume levies that came with it. Somewhere in her old room she still had cardboard boxes containing the countless trophies and medals from her days on the stage. She had gone out with a bang in her final year winning multiple championships, her face making the competition program for years following. She then spent the next three years living out her childhood dream before an injury struck, putting a stop to her career just as she landed her first contract with a major ballet company.
Posterior compartment syndrome in her calves.
