Seven Days: The Complete Story

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Seven Days: The Complete Story Page 31

by Dale, Lindy


  I can’t wait either.

  “Funny you should mention the wedding, I’ve been thinking about that.”

  A strangled groan leaves his lips. “You have too much time on your hands. Clearly, I need to occupy your time more fully.” He nips my bottom.

  “Stop it, I’m being serious.”

  “So am I.” He kisses me, deep and long to prove his point.

  I push him playfully away. “Not now. I want to tell you my idea.”

  He sighs this time. It’s long and exaggerated and I know he’s teasing. “What have you been thinking, my love?”

  “That we should get married on the beach where we met. We could still have the big reception your father wants at the resort in the Bay. The the guests could book an overnight stay and nobody would have to drive.” Having met Nicholas’ father, I’m happy to compromise on what we first thought was going to be a small intimate wedding. If he wants to invite the entire family, so be it, but Nicholas and I will have the ceremony we want. “We could spend our wedding night on the Constance. And you can sail me off into the sunset for our honeymoon. What do you think?”

  “I think I love you even more.”

  “So you like the idea?”

  “Love it. As long as we get married before the baby is born. I’m not lugging our little bundle of joy around on the yacht. I want both of my treasures with their feet firmly on the ground for at least a month after the birth. I need to have you where I can see you and keep an eye on you.”

  That’s sweet. He’s being all protective again.

  “Awww. My hero.”

  “Just call me Superman.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “It has to be flowing and beachy.”

  Emily and I are sitting on a chaise in the middle of the most upmarket bridal shop in town. She’s in bare feet and a tight fitting, ivory coloured, beaded gown with a mermaid tail skirt. It hugs her body to the top of her thighs then spills over the carpet. It’s so her… if it were black.

  “What about this one?” The assistant, keen to help, has been rifling through a selection of gowns suitable for pregnant brides. She holds up a vintage gown with a huge skirt and a massive bow on the front. My guess is that’s there to discreetly hide the ‘bump’.

  Emily’s face is one of appalled horror. “You’re kidding, right? Sadie’s pregnant or did you not notice? We want her to look beautiful, not like a jumping castle in side show alley.”

  Blushing, the assistant slides the dress away. She purses her lips in thought. “So you want something more streamlined?”

  “Well, obviously not as fitted as mine,” Emily says and runs her hands down her sides. “Or our girl look ridiculous in the photos. Nothing too formal, either. No taffeta or heavy satin. You know what I mean.”

  I bite my lip, stifling a titter. I have a feeling we may be about to become the most demanding brides ever. But, oh, mega exciting though, to both be dress shopping together.

  The girl tries again. This time the dress is white. I don’t mind white. It has a low cut sweetheart neckline and wide shoulder straps that look like they’re made for holding up very large pregnant boobs. It also has layers of transparent ruffles and lace that look something like curtains from the fifties. Before I can open my mouth, Emily throws her arms into the air in disbelief.

  “No. Definitely not.” She takes an elongated breath. “Karen, darling. I realise these are gowns that ‘other girls’— cue finger quotes— might like but my girl Sadie is not ‘other girls’. She is marrying Nicholas I’m-Too-Sexy-And-Rich-For-This-Universe Lawson. She needs to have a dress that displays this. It can’t be poofy or meringue-like. It can’t be over the top because as you can see our Sadie is a simple yet stylish girl, despite the vibes she may be throwing out today. It’s imperative this dress reflect the high society expectations of these nuptials. And the wedding’s on a freaking beach. Comprende?”

  Our assistant looks suitably chastised. “So, there’s no barrier to the budget then?”

  “Um,” I say. “I don’t want anything too expensive.”

  Emily elbows me. “Nicholas is paying, honey bubble. Make the most of it.” She swivels back to the girl. “Show us the best dresses. Within the specified guidelines.”

  Wow. This is a bossy side of Emily I’ve not experienced for a while. She’s so funny.

  “Any preference on colour?”

  “No,” I say. “As long as it suits my skin tone and hair, I’m fine.”

  The sales girl goes into another room and we sit for a while. Emily sips from the glass of champagne while I sip my water. “It’s a pity you can’t have this,” she says, raising her glass to me. “It’s super nice.”

  “I like your dress.”

  “It’s fab isn’t it? I suppose I should get changed and then I can help you pick out yours. Who’d have thought we’d both be getting married this year? I’m so stoked.”

  “I’m more stoked that we’re friends again. I missed you. It would have been heinous having to do this without you.”

  “You would have ended up in some ugly thing like that white maxi dress you used to wear everywhere. Hashtag hideous.”

  “I would not!” I giggle. She’s right. I have no idea how to choose fancy dresses. And that’s what this dress has to be. It has to be me, but still have an air of sophistication that will make Nicholas proud. I want our guests to think he’s made the right decision by marrying me.

  As Emily disappears into the dressing room, the shop assistant reappears with a few dresses from the other room. She hangs them on a huge hook. They dangle on the ground, long swathes of plastic protecting them. “I think these are more of what you’re looking for,” she says, as she holds each one up. The first two are pretty. One is empire line with georgette capped sleeves and a flower on the front. It flows over her arm as she drapes it for me to admire. The fabric looks soft and expensive. I could totally see myself standing on the beach next to Nicholas in that.

  “I like that one,” I say. The girl puts it to the side for me to try on.

  The second is not my thing at all. Though it’s empire line again and strapless, which I like, it’s got beading and the skirt is very heavy looking. I don’t think it would suit a beach wedding.

  Then she holds out the last dress. “This one is the most expensive of the three,” she says, like that’s going to make a difference. Nicholas said I could have whatever I want. He gave me the platinum credit card. Not that I thought I would spend an insane amount on a dress, not until I saw this dress.

  Oh, I am in love. Literally.

  It’s ivory shot silk. It’s strapless which should impress Nicholas as he’ll get to see more of my new boobs. It hangs simply from under the bust and is sort of twisted at the cleavage. I can’t explain it but it’s like something I envisage a Greek goddess would wear. One with a golden wreath in her auburn hair. “That one!”

  I leap to my feet and head for the fitting room. I don’t need to try the others. This is my dress, I can hear it calling to me. It’s telling me the cost doesn’t matter, that Nicholas will wilt with desire when he sees me in it, that it is perfection personified. We will be like Jack and Rose on the bow of the Titanic as we sail off on our yachting honeymoon. It’s absolutely perfect.

  A couple of minutes later, I’m standing on the dais in front of the mirror, gazing at myself like I’ve morphed into a Victoria’s Secret model in the change room when Emily sweep back the curtain of her cubicle. She comes to stand in front of me. Her mouth falls open and for once, I think she may actually be speechless.

  “Oh. My. God. Please tell me you are buying this dress.”

  “I am buying this dress.”

  “It’s perfect. Absolutely drop dead perfect. Nicholas is gonna come in his pants when he sees you in this.”

  Well, I sort of hoped he’d come inside me, but whatever.

  “You are so gross,” I say.

  “Hey, it’s why we’re friends, right? You provide my filter.”
/>   “Then turn the thing on. You gave the sales girl a heart attack.”

  Emily laughs and apologises.

  It’s nice to have her back.

  *****

  I arrive home from my shopping expedition excited and happy,though we were gone so long I feel like we travelled to Africa and back. The morning has been more than I could have ever expected. It’s made me see things in a way I didn’t before. Sure, I was over the moon about being engaged and planning the wedding but now I can’t wait. I can’t wait to be Nicholas’ wife and see his reaction to my dress. I can’t wait to change my name. I can’t wait to hold our baby in my arms and make a little brother or sister for him. I can’t, can’t wait.

  I sneak into the bedroom to hide my purchase.I scored the most adorable sandals to go with my dress and some cute underwear that won’t make me look like a complete heifer, as long as I don’t get any fatter. My dress is staying at the shop until the week of the wedding in case it needs last minute alteration but, I’m confident it will still fit fine. Remembering Nicholas promised to help me finish addressing the invitations, I go in search of him, finding him in the living room sitting at the dining table. The invitations and guest list are stacked in a neat pile next to the fruit bowl where I left them this morning. Nicholas, however, has a large tumbler of tequila in his hand, definitely not how I left him this morning. He’s staring at the empty envelopes, his frown growing bigger by the second.

  Geez, he looks angry. Way to put a downer on my euphoria.

  I approach the table. “Everything okay?”

  He doesn’t look up.

  Okay, I think, we’re playing the sulky guessing game. It’s a long time since I’ve seen this one.

  “I picked a dress,” I add, hoping a change of subject might break his silence. “It’s very sexy.”

  Clearly, or I wouldn’t have chosen it.

  He ignores me.

  Oh, this is ridiculous. I might as well talk to myself. Which I already am.

  “I’m going to make a start on lunch. Is salmon okay?”

  Nicholas looks up at me. It’s almost as if he doesn’t see me. A sense of dread washes over me. My heart begins to pound uncomfortably in my chest. Something is wrong. Really wrong. Nicholas picks up his phone from the table and flips the mail app open. He holds it in my direction.

  “Take a look at this.” His voice is hard. I’ve never heard him speak in this tone before.

  I take the phone and begin to read but my excitement at the fact that it’s an email from Joel soon dissipates as I scan the contents. Suddenly, my plans for weddings and baby showers are forgotten. My reborn friendship with Emily loses its sheen and is swept under the rug. Because nothing can compare to the emotion that Nicholas must be feeling, the turmoil that must be raging inside him. No wonder he had that look on his face. Joel wants to dissolve the partnership. He’s hired a team of lawyers who will be in touch. He thinks it’s best if the three of us don’t see each other or converse. He’s not after anything except his share and a chance at a new life without us.

  Confused, I read it again. I must have misconstrued the meaning. This cannot be true. Joel would never leave us. His being gone is a bump in the road, Nicholas reassured me of that. He told me Joel would come back, that when he does this disappearing act he always comes back. He just needs to get his head straight.

  “I had a call from Joel’s lawyers,” Nicholas says, as if he’s read my mind. “It’s true.”

  I sink on the chair beside Nicholas’. I try to take him in my arms, to console him. Hell, I need consolation too but he shrugs me away as if my touch is burning his flesh. We can get through this like we did when Joel left, I know we can. All we have to do is believe.

  “Nicholas?”

  “Not now, Sadie.”

  What does that mean?

  “I’m so sorry.” I don’t know why I’m apologising. It’s that thing you do, like when someone dies or gets diagnosed with cancer. You apologise though you had nothing to do with it.

  “I think it’s a bit late for that.” Nicholas stands. The look of derision on his face is more than I can cope with and tears begin to slide down my cheeks. I know I should stay calm for the baby but I can’t, not when he’s looking at me like he hates me.

  “How can I help? Let me help,” I say.

  Okay, I’m practically begging. It’s a little bit pathetic really.

  “You’ve done plenty enough already. I don’t need your help.”

  I bury my face in my hands. My world is rumbling around me and I have no idea how to mend it or if I can.

  “Stop crying, Sadie. Crying is not going to solve this crisis.”

  I sit up. I press my lips together, refusing to let him make me cry anymore. Fair enough, I think, I’ll shout instead. I’ll scream like a banshee because this isn’t my freakin’ fault.

  So I do.

  I lose it. Literally.

  I rant and scream. For so long I’ve held my anger in. I’ve never let out my feelings about the things that have happened. Ever. So, I guess this is the time. If Nicholas wants to blame me I can be just as awful in return. “Why are you being so mean to me? What have I done? I didn’t make Joel go away. I didn’t ask him to sell his share of the company. This is not my fault. I loved you both but ever since he left you’ve changed. You treat me differently and now you look at me as if you hate me. Do you love Joel more than me? Because if that’s the problem I’ll leave. You and Joel can continue your happy fucking bromance without me. I don’t need either of you. What on earth could possibly be so bad that we can’t work through this together?”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Then enlighten me. Clearly, I’m not smart enough to figure it out on my own.” I’m trembling now. I’m trembling not because I’m angry at Nicholas but because I know this is the beginning of something big, something we might not be able to control. If I don’t stop now, words could be said that can never be taken back. Although I fear I may already have said them.

  “If Joel wants his share, I’ll have to sell. His share runs into the tens of millions, Sadie. Despite what you might think I don’t have that amount of cash at my disposal.”

  “But… but why blame me?”

  “Because this is your fault. I should have stayed single. I should never have begun a relationship with you. I should have stayed out of it and let Joel have you. You bewitched me with your eyes and your laugh. You made me fall and now I can’t get out of the fucking hole I fell into. You said you’d hurt me and look what’s happened. Fucking Bingo!”

  “I… I…” I reach out to him.

  “No! No more. I’m going to the office.”

  “It’s Saturday. Why are you going to the office on a Saturday?”

  “Because I can’t fucking think straight when you touch me. I need to be away from you so I can try to make some sense of this shit. You’ve fucking killed me, Sadie. You’ve ruined my fucking life.”

  My lip wobbles. “Please don’t leave, Nicholas.” My voice is so small I’m sure he doesn’t hear it, because he’s already at the door to the garage with the keys in his hand. “You… you… promised.”

  The slamming door is my answer.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I wander about the house after Nicholas leaves, aimlessly picking up things and turning them in my hands. It’s as if the objects around me are somehow changed because Nicholas and I have fought, their colours are duller or I can’t remember ever seeing them before or something. I can’t believe we’ve done this to each other or that Joel has such a hold over us when he’s not here, that he could cause us to argue so. Nicholas is my life, my blood. He’s the father of my baby. I need him to love me and want me. I want to marry him, to be his forever. I don’t want to fight.

  After a while, I go into the bedroom and curl up on his side of the bed. There’s a lump under the pillow which I identify as the t-shirt he wore to bed last night. It was cold. Nicholas feels the cold. I pull the balled up top fro
m under the pillow. I take off my own top and slip the t-shirt on, next to my naked skin. I hug it close to me, inhaling the scent of him that lingers in the cotton and wipe my tears on the hem. Then I lay back on the bed and try to sleep. There’s a dull ache in my lower back but I discount it because I know I’ve been on my feet a lot today when I should have taken it easier. And when I wake, Nicholas will be beside me. I know he will. He’ll have forgiven me and we’ll stand at the kitchen bench and cook the salmon. We’ll kiss across the salad bowl like we always do.

  Later, I am woken by a stabbing pain in my abdomen. The bed is wet and I am still alone. Disoriented, I look about me for Nicholas but he’s not there. Clasping my stomach, I pad into the living room, hoping he’s watching the replay of the footy on TV. He knows I get tired with the pregnancy. He never wakes me if I nap.

  From the bedroom door, I see the living room is empty, the TV off. Nicholas still hasn’t come home. A second pain grips my stomach and I double over. It’s like someone is driving nails into my belly or twisting a corkscrew through my skin multiple times. A bout of food poisoning would be preferable to this agony. I start to panic. The wetness in the bed, the cramps can only mean one thing but the baby can’t come yet, it isn’t due for seven more weeks. We haven’t made a decision on a name. We have to have the wedding and sail off on our Loveboat honeymoon. Sucking in gulps of air, I waddle into the kitchen looking for my phone. The pain is enormous and I lean against the bench for a second trying to calm myself, trying to think of what I should do next. Maybe, if I stay really still it will stop.

  Or maybe not.

  I clench my teeth and wince. It’s not real labour, I think. It can’t be. Not yet.

  I repeat this mantra a few times but I can’t even convince myself. The baby is coming and I am totally unprepared. I am standing in the kitchen in a too big t-shirt and wet underwear and I haven’t got a clue what to do next.

 

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