by Way, Maggie
His mouth pops wide open. “Whoa, back it up. He wanted to do it in the bathroom, right there and then? After he humiliated you like that? Geez, he’s even more of a douche than I imagined. What did you do?”
I set the glass of wine down, my face burning scarlet at the memory, but nothing is off limits with Gabe. “Well, after he choked the life out of me with his tongue, I was able to act on my senses and get out of there.” I put my hand to my chest as I hiccupped. “I slapped him too.”
His eyes bulge out of their sockets. “Did you kick him in the nuts too?
“No.” Dammit, I should have.
“You let him put his slimy hands all over you, because…”
“No, of course not! I mean…” Maybe it’s to do with the fact that Adam and I haven’t had sex in two months, or maybe I was so numb that I was having a delayed reaction. Either way, the thought of Adam touching me again makes me sick.
“That bastard took advantage of you, he probably said it was breakup sex right?”
“How did you know that?”
“Men are so predictable. I would know,” he adds. “Don’t worry, you’ll be glad to get rid of that loser. Your next guy will be so much better.”
My heart sinks at his comment. Next guy? The pain is still raw, and no amount of alcohol is going to fix that. I never intended to have a next guy. I never asked for any of this, what did I do to deserve my heartbreak? I’m not getting married tomorrow, the most important day of my life has been put on hold indefinitely. Instead it’s going to be just another day now.
Gabe sees the change in my expression and winces. “Ooh sorry, too soon I guess?”
Given it’s only been two hours; the answer is a resounding yes. A part of me doesn’t think it’s real yet. I grab the glass and take another sip, it tastes like water now.
“How do you feel right now? It’s me. You can let it all out.”
I just feel numb, everywhere. I wish I could cry, and let it all out but there’s no urge. Maybe if I try really hard. “I feel…I don’t want to cry, is that…bad?” Maybe Adam is right, maybe I’m not human.
“Usually I would say yes, but given the way he treated you after all these years he isn’t worth one tear. A spineless guy like him doesn’t deserve a second mention.”
“I was supposed to get married tomorrow…” And I was with him so many years, I can’t just forget him like that.
Gabe shakes his head. “This is going in my top five ‘what the fuck’ moments.”
“Does this top the time you caught your grandmother eating a can of dog food?”
“Yes, but the day I woke up with my tattoo is still number one!” I still don’t know how Gabe got so drunk he decided to get an anchor inked on his lower back. He literally got a tramp stamp.
We stare at each other and giggle softly, and he taps my hand. “See we’re already laughing about it. In time, it will get easier.” He glances at me with kind, reassuring eyes. He can easily switch to a soothingly convincing voice and make me feel better, no matter what.
“He was the only man I wanted.”
“No, he was the only man you’d been with,” he retorts.
I frown at him. “What do you mean?”
“Come on hun, you were with him since you were like ten. Have you even been with any other guy?”
He has a point. Adam is the only serious relationship I’ve had. The only other boy I’ve ‘been’ with was Ian Price and that consisted of a sloppy ten second kiss at the final year school dance. Then I met Adam and I was thankful that I didn’t date anyone else before, and I didn’t want to date anyone after.
I loved everything about him. The smell of citrus and tea tree oil on all his t-shirts, how he makes fun of how I glare at the television when I’m concentrating hard. How he always grabbed chopsticks the wrong way, no matter how many times mum tried to teach him. I thought he was my happily ever after.
“No I guess not…it makes me sadder.”
Gabe sighs. “Yes, you guys were cute together, and yes, it sucks that it didn’t work out, but come on, let’s get real. Did you really want to spend the rest of your life with someone so insecure? If he can’t handle how fab you are, then good riddance.”
“I guess so…”
“You hate pity, do you want me to sit here with you and feel sorry for you?”
I circle my finger around the rim of my glass, looking at it with deep thought. I’ve always been a positive person, heck I learnt to harness it in my years of planning weddings, but this has really shattered everything I believed in.
“No I wouldn’t want you to. It just feels like the last six years of my life has been wasted, and I have to start over again.” My voice is raspy, and I put the glass down.
“It hasn’t been wasted! He was a good first boyfriend to have. Shitty in current perspective, but you know what I mean.”
He wasn’t just my boyfriend. He was my first love, my first lover, my first everything. “We lived together. We were going to be husband and wife. And now I’m dumped, and living alone.” Aside from Adam, the only other people I have lived with are my family. I don’t know if I want to live all by myself.
“If it gets that bad, you can stay with me. That is if you don’t mind me hogging the bathroom and playing Cher’s greatest hits on continuous loop in the afternoons,” he teases.
“I’m already familiar with your habits, thank you very much, but I should be okay,” I smile fondly at him and reach for his hand.
Gabe holds it tightly and finishes the last sip of his drink. “So, what do you want to do? Take off a few extra weeks and go somewhere? I’m dying to top up my tan, I’m looking pasty as heck!”
I like to relax as much as the next person, but I get bored if I rest for too long. The idea of doing nothing all day long does not appeal to me one bit. I had already scheduled two weeks off on account of my wedding and that is long enough.
I sit up and cross my legs to face Gabe, already feeling rejuvenated at the prospect of talking about work.
“No, I think working as soon as possible would be good for me,” I finally declare. I might regret saying that later.
“What are you going to do about your honeymoon?”
Something else that I don’t want to deal with. We had planned to spend two weeks at a luscious beachfront resort in Boracay Islands. Clearly that wasn’t happening anymore…
I exhale loudly. “Can you cancel it for me? Not to mention everything else—”
He nods. “Don’t worry about that. I will sort it all out for you, but what do you want to do?”
“Umm…the same old usual I guess?”
Gabe purses his lips, unimpressed with my answer. Suddenly, he clicks his fingers. “Oh my god, I have an idea!”
“What?”
He gazes at me knowingly. “Let’s do a wedding, somewhere out of Sydney.”
I roll my eyes. Not this again. “No, that was a once off. We focus on Australian weddings—”
“We specialise in Day of Wedding coordination, especially speedy last minute weddings. Technically, that can be anywhere. We killed it on our assignment in Bali when the client needed someone to help out a week before the day. Remember how we thought it was going to be a total disaster ‘cause it was our first time overseas, but we thrived in the different surrounding?”
“Yeah I remember that wedding,” Not only do I remember it, it forced me to tackle my fear of heights head on, and I failed miserably. But from now on, I will always remember it as the time when Adam cheated on me, leaving me to be the drunken mess I am now.
I hiccup quietly, clamping a hand on my mouth.
He giggles. “So, you’re not keen then?”
“Of course, I’ll consider it, but as I said we do Sydney weddings. Bali was a once off.”
He glances at me speculatively. “I beg to differ. We’ve had tons of comments on our Facebook page, people from the UK, America…”
“Yeah, they’re just comments on how pretty the wed
dings are. They’re not genuine enquiries.”
“Fine, you’re right. But they could be enquiries if we goaded them a bit more.”
I smile. “Well, you are good at the goad. I’m keen, but I just want to focus on the core of what I do, and that is providing the perfect day no matter how urgent it is. Plenty of brides here who need my help.”
“I mean; you don’t have an excuse to say no now…” he trails off.
I stare at him, my face permanently warm now. “Come on, spill.”
“That woman who you planned her first wedding for, she was getting married a second time in Hawaii and she asked you to plan for her again. We could have gone to Hawaii! But somebody wanted to keep Mr Serial Clinger happy…”
“I didn’t say no because of Adam, we had two other weddings at that point, remember?” I retort, annoyed at having to defend myself, although it’s an uphill battle. He’s right. Adam would get annoyed if I was gone even half a week. He would have hit the ceiling if I went away for several weeks, so I always stuck to Sydney weddings, and only an occasional one interstate.
He rolls his eyes “Fine. It was just a suggestion. Think of the places we could go…” I see the stars in his eyes; he is already day-dreaming.
“You’re right. I did stay because of Adam.”
He pushes his ear out, “Can you repeat that again? Lacey Ryan admitting she is wrong? I think I need to record this.”
“I didn’t say I was wrong!” I grab a pillow and hit him gently with it. “It’s a good idea but an unfeasible one.”
“Anyway, I asked because I may or may not have something in the works.”
I widen my eyes. “What is it?”
“Let me take care of it. But if we got asked to plan a destination wedding right this second, would you say yes?”
What an odd choice of words. Right this second? “Yeah, I would.”
Gabe stares at me, trying to read my face. “Are you absolutely sure you want to take on more work now?”
I would rather do what I love than drown in self-pity. “I do.”
The words I’m supposed to say to Adam tomorrow, I’m saying to Gabe. How pitiful.
“Fab! I shall have an update for you real soon,” he gets off the couch and runs to his desk which is just a few feet away. An update? On what?
Gabe almost bounces off the chair and fires up the laptop, scrolling the screen furiously.
“Okay you just relax, and let me sort it out. I’ll let you know when it happens.” When? Not if?
“You’re not working on some sort of surprise are you? Because you know I hate surprises,” I tease.
“No, you only hate nasty surprises.” He gazes at me warmly. “From today onwards, it’s only going to be pleasant surprises.”
I really hope he is right, I do.
CHAPTER SIX
The etching sound that dances across the kitchen window is enough to send my back straight and instantly my eyes open to pitch darkness as a thin layer of cold sweat rests on my forehead. What is that sound, and why is Adam not rushing up to check what it is?
Now that I’m awake I remember that I’m not in bed, but lying on Gabe’s couch. A thick, blue duvet is covering my body, so it’s no wonder I feel so sweaty. Pushing the blanket off me, instantly I feel the cool air lingering on my body.
The nausea swirls wildly in my empty stomach, and my head is swimming with full-formed regrets. Why did I drink so much? Why is there a crust of dried saliva on my lips? Why am I thinking about Adam, and how much I want to see him at this very instant?
In the silence, I am alone with my thoughts and it is horrendous. My melancholy hangs over me like a black cloud. I can’t just lie here. I stand up in a hurry and regret it instantly. My brain feels swollen and numb, like a sink needing to be unclogged. The alcohol has definitely gone to my head now. Forcing myself to be steady on my feet, I move a few steps and the room starts to sway. Whoa, bad idea. Immediately I almost lose my balance, reaching for the couch arm to prop myself up. Water. I need water. I make a quick dash for the monochrome kitchen, which is nothing more than an extended part of the living room, for that cool drink.
The liquid goes down my throat, slaking my thirst. So delicious. I wipe my mouth and let the choleric thoughts run through my head.
How dare he do this to me? My hopes and dreams have been obliterated with the stroke of a pen, and I just let him get away with it. My fingers tightly grip the glass tumbler. All I can envision is his face becoming red from my slaps and it feels good. I can feel my hand making contact with his cheeks, and him just standing there while I do it again and again. How good would that be?
Every word that he uttered stings, and only serves to fuel the fire that burns inside of me. Every comment, every insult is like gasoline, and my teeth begin to clench. I slam the glass tumbler back on the kitchen counter in retaliation, and turn around to check the time on the microwave.
11.45pm
I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep but surely I can drive back to my place and give Adam what he deserves.
I said that I would give him three days to pack up his things, but I just can’t let him off so easily. He needs to feel the pain that I feel; he needs to feel heartbroken. There are so many more things I want to say; need to say. Objects I would like to throw at him.
I was with him for a quarter of my life, and he’s just tossed it all away because of his rampant ego? He cheated on me just to feel better about himself, and didn’t even spare a thought for how much it would hurt me. Instead, he wanted to have sex on a public restroom floor immediately after breaking it off. Does that sound like the actions of a heartbroken man who left his fiancée jilted the day before he was to be married? I don’t think so.
He deserves so much more than the verbal abusing I gave him, and I need to give it to him now.
♦
In the hopes that I appear half decent in my hung over daze, I washed my face thoroughly and put on beige lipstick. Seeing how clammy my skin felt, I rubbed on foundation and applied several lashings of mascara. My hair is still voluminous from all the hairspray that’s still in there.
I slip on a pair of hot pink sheepskin boots, a pair I keep at Gabe’s place for whenever I am over, and I’m ready as I’ll ever be. Having changed back into the black dress I wore at the rehearsal, I am in no state of mind to walk out in heels and drive.
Driving. Even though I doubt my ability to do so right now, I take Gabe’s car keys sitting on the oak hall table near the door and head out. Grabbing my wallet and house keys, I quietly close the door behind me. Gabe will never need to know I took it for a drive in the middle of the night. I intend to have it back before he gets up. This is reckless and impulsive, completely unlike me, but it’s the only thing on my mind and it’s because of the anger I feel for Adam.
I push the door and walk out into the quiet street. Damn its cold, and I breathe out condensation as I start walking towards Gabe’s car. It’s parked out on the public street, only twenty metres away, and I walk as quickly as I can. As I reach it, I start to press the keys but my slippery hands fail me and they drop to the ground. I groan and bend down to reach, but my foot slips and I fall on my bottom, the thin material of my dress a terrible cushion. This is not a good start.
As I reach for the keys, someone, just a few feet behind, calls out to me.
“Are you okay?”
That voice…. it’s smooth and husky, striking a chord. Definitely a male. The mysterious man starts walking towards me but I remain stationary with my back to him. He finally stops beside me, waiting for an answer.
“I'm fine,” I mutter. I expect him to walk away but instead he leans forward to catch a glimpse of me.
“No freaking way. Lacey, is that you?” The chuckle that replies is sneering, and I shriek internally because I recognise it. I’ve heard this laugh before…where…how?
I glance up at him, my mouth ajar at the sight of the broad-shouldered man in bootleg jeans and a rolled up plaid
shirt. I have to crane my neck as far as possible to see all of him, he’s really tall. All I see is piercing, coffee brown eyes and short black hair. But that could be because it’s pitch black and I can’t really see him clearly. But that voice is so familiar…it can’t be who I think it is. Because if it is, he looks so different to the last time I saw him – which was almost four years ago.
“What are the odds, Hansley’s snotty little sister sitting here on the street. How hammered are you?”
“Trrrrrr…Tristan? Hansley’s friend?”
“Okay, you’re completely wasted.”
What the hell is Tristan Keys doing here in Sydney, let alone standing in front of me? He is the last person I expected to see, ever. My brother’s best friend all through high school, he was the most annoying person and I had to deal with him constantly.
Always one to tease me about my braces, my ‘nerdy’ braids, and my love for collecting 3D jigsaw puzzles and scrapbooking, he always found a way to badger me. Instead of a normal ‘Hi’ or ‘What’s up’ he would instead greet me with ‘Miss Strait-laced’ or ‘Prissy’ and I would reciprocate by poking my tongue out at him.
He’s so much more built than I remember, and his hair….it used to be so long.
“What are you doing back, h-h-here?” He moved to New York almost four years ago, and by all accounts he’s done very well for himself over there.
“I was having drinks at Surry Hills. What the hell is that you’ve got on your feet? Do you intend to go camping or are you always dressed this weird?”
Oh yes, he’s still the same except his accent is smoother and a lot more refined. I need to get inside the vehicle now – given my current state, I am in no mood to deal with anyone, least of all my brother’s annoying friend. Planting my palms on the gravel pavement to push myself up, I manage it in one swift movement along with my wallet and keys.
“Heeeeey I’m comfortable, alright? I’m going home, soooooo if you don’t mind…” I fail to not slur my words as I stumble to the side.
His wide and engaging eyes look at me with serious doubt.
