by Karen Botha
When he breaks away, I sigh out of pure love. All the emotion that I hold within me about this man comes rushing out with my exhalation. I allow it to float around us, protecting us from the external world. “When I’m with you, I feel invincible. That could be part of my problem. You give me strength that I don’t have on my own.”
“Yin and yang,” he says.
“Perhaps.” I turn to face him, mirroring his position, cradling my head in my hand while using my other to brush my fingers over his tattooed shoulder and chest. “I’m not as good a person without you by my side, and I’m not capable of enjoying my life as fully without you as my partner. I never want to be without you, Kyle.”
A smile flickers across his lips, our mood too relaxed for it to break into a full-blown grin, but his eyes twinkle down at me in the half light.
“Why don’t we get married?” I ask. The proposal escapes my mouth before I’ve given it full consideration. This isn’t a burning question I’ve been building up to asking at the right time, it’s how I’m feeling in this moment. I don’t ever want to live my life without Kyle at my side and so the words tumble out.
He’s not alarmed, but he’s not overjoyed either. He stays quiet, understanding instinctively what just happened. He’s thinking the possibility through where I have not and working out whether this makes sense.
Eventually he replies, “I don’t feel the need to marry because my first marriage was a disaster. It doesn’t feature high on my to-do list. But we’re essentially living as a married couple anyway, so I also don’t see why not? I don’t want to live my life without you either, so it seems like the sensible next step.”
OK, so it’s not exactly the proposal acceptance you dream of where everyone is hugging and crying and cameras are being snapped and no doubt being sent to the press, but this is a real moment. And it’s one based on honesty. Surely that’s how any marriage should start if it’s to have the best chance of surviving this crazy life we lead.
“Perfect,” I say.
We spend the night sleeping on our sides sealed together. As soon as one of us moves, the other shifts position to maintain our closeness.
Kyle
I’ve got a wedding to organize. Madeline did it last time and not being particularly bothered about the whole thing, I kept out of it. Which means that I don’t have that to fall back on now to help with arranging what will no doubt be a lavish affair.
“I’m thinking of hiring a wedding planner,” I say over dinner a few nights later.
“Sure, whatever you think. But don’t let them run away with things. This is our day and it should reflect us,” Elliott replies.
He’s right, but we have so many facets within our life, I’m not sure which part we’re using as the basis for our nuptials.
“How many people do you want to come?” I check.
This makes him think. “I don’t know. Five hundred perhaps?”
Uh-oh. Here we go. I expected him to spit out a large number, but that’s ridiculous. “We don’t have five hundred close friends, Elliott. Who are you planning on inviting along?”
“Well, it will be a huge PR opportunity. We can sell the pictures to a magazine.”
“No.”
“Huh?”
“I said no, El. We are not selling the most important day of our lives together to the highest bidder and we are not having people come along who we don’t even know. This is our special day and however we do it, it will remain a personal affair.”
“OK, but why do you ask if you don’t want my input?”
I shake my head at him and walk off to refill my glass with water.
“What?” he asks.
“Well, this whole wedding was born from us having a fun evening and relaxing together. But as soon as we talk about getting married, you want to revert to form and destroy its intimacy with the publicity we’re trying to avoid.”
He tips his head to one side, forks his steamed broccoli and chomps down. “I don’t mind. Do whatever makes you happy.”
Frustration is burning away already. I don’t mean that I didn’t want this wedding. I guess eventually I would have gotten around to it, but he asked me because it was on his timeline now and yet I’m doing all the planning.
“OK, and I’ll invite whoever I like too then?”
“Sure, but just run the list past me first, OK?”
“Uh huh.” I’ll make an appointment with a wedding planner for later in the week when Elliott is away doing some pre-promotion for the start of the racing season.
Kyle
The offices scream money with their oak doors and plush carpets. We had to fork out five hundred big ones just to be able to step foot in the door for a consultation which must have made a dent in the cost of one of the brightly colored oil paintings that adorn the walls.
Natalia is gorgeous, both her appearance and her personality. She is so warm that I can’t help but trust that she’s going to provide us with the wedding of our dreams even though we don’t know what we want yet.
Once we’ve got the necessary glasses of water on the meeting table in the corner of her office, she says, “So, tell me about the two of you.”
I start, but have no further than a few sentences before she interrupts.
Holding her hand high, she says, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I know most of this from social media already. Tell me about who you two guys really are. Where did you go on your first date, for example, what do you do in your private life, away from the public eye?”
“Ah...” I’m shocked at how easy I’ve already started defaulting to the safe public persona. I check myself and tell her all about our treehouse date. All about how Elliott spoiled me with a motorbike I now ride everywhere and about our off camera life.
“And which countries have you always wanted to visit?”
“Elliott has been all over the place so he’s not too bothered, but we did once talk about maybe Norway because neither of us have been there and as well as being beautiful, we should also be able to hide away from the world out there.”
“I have the perfect idea!” she says when I finish waxing lyrical.
I widen my eyes, but wait.
“How about, hiring an island in Norway? It’s not as extravagant as it sounds because the fjords are overridden with them and then you can invite all of your friends to a ceremony and celebration where you know you won’t be found by the paps?”
“It seems wonderful, but...” I trail off.
“Hmm.” Her eyebrows arc. “You’re concerned about the weather?”
I nod. “Yeah, it’s not very warm out there is it?”
“A common misconception. They have amazingly long summer days and if you’re going to marry in the height of summer during your break in the racing calendar, it will be perfect. Plus, we will always supply a rainy day option.”
I leave her offices overjoyed. The spring that was in my step when I arrived at her gray high rise has turned into a bounce upon exiting. I can’t wait to tell Elliott what we’ll be doing.
Elliott
“I had thought we’d go to an island, but more along the lines of The Caribbean,” I say when Kyle spills the beans on his day’s events.
“You hate the idea?” His beautiful face is so sad at the prospect that I can’t summon the will to tell him yes, and what does it matter, anyway. The most important part is that we get hitched. And I expect with this being more informal than I’d anticipated it will be easier to squeeze a few more people in at the last minute if I need to. We’ve not announced our engagement yet, which means that Jess doesn’t know and she will have her own suggestions about who needs to attend.
“No, I don’t hate it, I’m just surprised. We have pretty much an unlimited budget and you have decided for us to have a rustic wedding in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yeah, but isn’t that when we’ve been the happiest?” he asks.
Once again, he has a point. “Yeah, it has.”
Witho
ut giving me the time to answer, he’s already continued arguing his case, listing the remote places we’ve been and enjoyed.
I hold up my hands in surrender. “It’s OK. I see where you’re going with it. It will be lovely.”
That’s not enough though. He gets right down to showing me examples on his phone.
"See there's this option..." He leans over the dining table, pushing the mug of green tea out of his way and points. "Or this..."
I’ve had a long day dealing with over-excited competition winners who either lose the ability to speak or talk too much. Making polite conversation with people who are so in awe of you they lose all their basic communication skills is draining. And to do all of that while charming them means that when I get home, I’ve lost the energy to be interested in whether our guests sit on a tree stump or a chair.
I select the logs. “That’ll be fine.” I point. “Do we have to do all this now though?”
“Sure, because we have to put orders in on some items so the lead times can be long. And as we’ve only got a few months it’s critical.”
I’ve created a monster. Why did I suggest this? How did Kyle switch up from being not bothered in the slightest to crazy mother-fucking wedding planner?
Kyle
And so the season starts, but rather than being excited about heading off to start my first full year of the racing calendar, I’m all consumed with planning our forthcoming nuptials. My concentration isn’t affected while I’m working, but all of my spare time is absorbed with choosing color palettes, food types and eating styles, oh and drink options, as well as the quantities of each without a guest list. We’ve not even told everyone yet, so I’m stabbing in the dark.
I hadn’t thought about it, but being on an island means we need to cart everything over there; there’s no reserve if we run out. I need to get Elliott to focus and check over the list of potential guests I’ve prepared.
Then there’s the issue of electricity. The only supply is via generators, so we need to plan our menus with this in mind. So, we’re having a great big BBQ.
The one thing that has been missed in all of this organization is the two of us committing to live as one for the rest of the days we have left on this earth. Those feelings are somewhere in all of this, but the party element seems to be way more time consuming.
When Natalia made this suggestion, in my mind I had us all on the island already, but the mere organization alone in getting everyone to and back from their accommodation again is causing a huge issue.
Frankly, it's irrelevant to me, but apparently I'm wrong and Elliott’s fame makes a difference. We’re out in the wilderness for a reason and we will not be jet skiing from A to B, that’s for sure. This will be a calm, tranquil occasion with live music to see us through the evening.
And so, I’ve plumped for the rowing boat option. Part of me chose it out of pure bloody mindedness, but the other is because this is a rustic wedding so if people don’t like how we’re doing it, frankly I don't give a shit.
“El, I need to speak to you about the wedding guest list.” I enter our RV to find him plugged into his headphones. I walk up behind them and lift one ear. “Hi.”
“Oh no.” He holds his head in his hands. “Not more marriage stuff.”
I laugh. I’m with him. I’ve had enough of it too and it is pretty much all we talk about now. “I know. This was supposed to be low key, but it seems it’s impossible to organize a wedding without a mass of decisions.” I repeat my earlier question about the guests.
“I’ll get to it. But seriously, I think those planners create dilemmas out of nothing so you feel they’re earning their huge retainer,” Elliott says.
The longer this goes on, the more inclined I am to agree with him. “Yeah, but we still need to decide.”
“Just go with your list as it is. We’ll make our announcement tomorrow.”
“Done.” We smile and I hold out my hand. He takes it and we shake on our deal. He pulls me into him. “Now, can I see my fiancé without wedding talk please? It feels like forever since we’ve just hung together.” He wraps his arms round me and I feel the warmth of his body through his t-shirt.
Elliott
Our bodies relax against each other and we stand, adjusting to the calmness our privacy bestows. Kyle holds my face between his palms and gazes into my eyes.
“I’m sorry this wedding is eating up so much energy. I really wanted to keep it low key.”
“I know. Imagine if I’d invited five hundred guests.”
He nods and plants a kiss on the top of my blond curls, sucking in air noisily through his nose. “I can’t wait to tell our friends.”
“Me either. They’ll be stoked for us, but that’s tomorrow.” I wink and reach up to meet his mouth and as I do our bodies mold into one. Our lips open and our tongues tangle and I drift off in the ecstasy of being with my life partner.
“Kyle, are you in there?” We break apart, throw each other a quick questioning look before I release him and he heads off to answer.
“James, is everything OK?” I hover behind as he asks our number one mechanic. “I haven’t cocked up my shifts have I?”
“No, you’re fine. Can I come in a second?”
“Sure,” Kyle says.
We both step back and allow James to enter. He sits at the small table in the dining area and Kyle and I follow on. There’s a tension in the air which had definitely not been present before we answered the knock at the door.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“OK, so this is a little sensitive, but I have to check, I’m afraid.”
“Go on,” I say.
“Well, strictly this doesn’t affect me and you Elliott, as it is only Kyle works for me, but I thought it best to come down and speak with the both of you together.”
My heart is starting to jackhammer now, he’s clearly nervous as fuck because I have no idea what he just mean to say, but it did not make any sense. “Why are you here?”
“What is it you need to talk to us about?” Kyle asks as his eyes scrunch, a visible frown spreading across his fine features.
“It’s to do with a rumor I’ve heard.”
We both sit and wait. There’s clearly no way to speed up James’ revelation. I reach my hand out and feel for Kyle’s under the Formica table. He rubs his thumb over mine as we hang in the eternity of the silence.
“We’ve heard that the two of you are planning to marry.”
Phew! Is that it? We both slump, grinning.
“Yes, we are we’re going to make the announcement tomorrow. I thought it was something awful,” I say.
“Well then, we have a problem.” James drops his gaze to meet the tabletop.
A thunderbolt drives through my core as my mouth opens. “Why?”
“We have a policy. Well, the team has a policy at least. It says that married couples cannot work together.”
Kyle
Whoa, now that’s a curve ball. “What do you mean? That we can’t get married or that I can’t work for you?”
James raises his head, it’s a slight movement, but it means our eyes meet and I see something like regret as he opens and then closes his mouth. Finally he answers. “Either one of those, depending on whether you decide to marry or not.”
“But you haven’t had a problem with us living together. What’s the difference?” I ask.
His shoulders rise slightly from their hunched posture, “The idea is that if you are married, you are more loyal to each other than the company.”
“But, anyone who is married will always be in that same position.” He isn’t making any sense.
“That is true, but by them both not working for the same business then their responsibilities at work won’t be affected by that relationship.”
“OK, so our firm expects that we should devote our lives to it, over and above anything else, and if we don’t we are penalized?”
“Look, you do devote everything to your job; you both
do as does everyone else.”
“So, what’s the difference then? You’ve just said we’re already doing what we should and the only variation is that we will possess a piece of paper declaring our love for each other.”
“It’s the policy, Kyle. I don’t make the rules. I hate to say it but you signed the contract.”
I think he’s talking horse shit, and I’m about to tell him so when Elliott, who until this point has been amazingly quiet, pipes up.
“This is fucking ridiculous. There are discrimination laws covering this you know. You will not get away with it.” Elliott has his phone out of his pocket and his screen is already dialing Clifford, our retained lawyer.
He stalks outside and I’m left alone with James to sit through our awkward silence.
“I’m sorry, Kyle. I wanted to forewarn you before you make any announcements so that you have the chance to make a fully informed decision.”
“You’re sorry?” The tone of my voice indicates I do not expect him to answer.
He fidgets in his seat, pushing himself back so that his spine leans against the rest. “Look, it’s nothing personal, it’s the policy. It means that there can’t be any favoritism.”
“But it seems that there can be discrimination.” I keep my speech level, but my soft tone is just as threatening as Elliott’s full volume outburst.
Elliott
I can’t get through to Clifford, so I’ve left a message as I march up to Chase’s office. Spineless piece of shit sending James to do his dirty work. Well, he can bloody well face me.
I don’t knock, preferring instead to smash the door open so hard the Portakabin we’re using as a mobile headquarters shakes with the force as it crashes against the thin wall.
