Not knowing what else to do, but knowing for certain that I don’t want this woman to see me break down, I slowly step back, closing the door quietly behind me. I walk numbly down the corridor in a haze of misery, but instead of making my way back to the crowd, I escape the happy chatter and dancing bodies and turn down the gravel pathway towards the woodlands.
I sit my defeated arse on an old log and start picking at the dried bark, crumbling it to grains between my fingers, while the dark, cool evening air spikes at my exposed skin. They were just talking, but he knows how I feel about her—how I feel about any other woman who Jesse’s had—yet he still sacrificed time with me on our special day to see her. I want to scream at him, bash my fists on his chest and yell in his face, but I don’t have the energy. All of the fight has been sucked out of me. My spirit has been stripped down by drama, mine and others, and it’s left me feeling exposed and vulnerable. And doubtful, too. Right now, on my wedding day of all days, I’m doubtful I can maintain the strength I clearly need to spend my life with Jesse—spend my life fighting off women and problems…issues. The tears I’ve been holding back jump straight from my eyes onto my lace. I’m powerless. I can’t make these women go away, I can’t strip Jesse’s past from him, and I can’t control other people and what they do. The one thing I could dois take my pills so that I don’t get pregnant. If I could stop losing them, that is. I drop my head in my hands and sob quietly to myself. I’ve not even got the energy to cry properly.
Through my low, pathetic weeping, I hear him approaching behind me. I can smell his fresh water and minty scent. And through my total numbness, I can still feel his presence. Every part of my being senses him, but my eyes don’t want to look at him.
I brush my tears away and sniff a little. ‘I know you’re there.’ I say quietly, keeping my eyes pointing downwards.
‘I know you do.’ His evenly spaced steps crunch over the ground, getting louder as he nears, and in my peripheral vision, I see him lower himself next to me. But he doesn’t touch me. His hands are clasped in front of him, his thumbs circling each other slowly. I can hear the tail end of his heavy breathing subsiding. He’s been running around the grounds like a madman trying to find me, and now he’s just sitting next to me, all silent when he should be explaining himself, explaining why he abandoned me on our wedding day so he could see a woman who’s in love with him—another woman who’s in love with him.
I laugh to myself. ‘Isn’t it funny how we’re so in touch with each other, yet you sit here now and don’t know what to say to me?’ I see him shift next to me, and then his hand drifts across the space between us and rests on my thigh, his heated touch doing things that I really don’t want it to do. I look down at his spread fingers, his flat, platinum and diamond wedding band that matches my own, sparkling as he flexes his hand and squeezes my thigh. ‘So he touches me.’ I say quietly.
‘He loves you.’ he whispers. ‘He wishes he could eliminate the past that’s hurting you.’
I turn my face to his and see green puddles of regret. ‘Then why did you see her? On our wedding day, when you vowed to have me by your side all day, why did you desert me to see her?’
‘I couldn’t leave her at the gates with guests arriving, Ava.’
‘So tell her to go away.’
‘And cause a scene?’
‘What did she want?’ I ask. She was here for a reason. ‘Did she know we were getting married today?’
His frown line crawls across his brow and sets firmly in place, his lip disappearing between his teeth. ‘Yes, she knew.’
So he’s spoken to her? ‘And she still came? Was she hoping to stop it? Was she going to barge through the summer room doors and declare that we shouldn’t be joined in holy matrimony?’ This is laughable.
‘I don’t know, Ava.’ He looks away.
‘When did you speak to her?’ He sighs. ‘She’s been calling and turning up at The Manor. I’ve told her repeatedly I’m not helping her. I’ve told her there are no feelings. I’m not sure what else I can do, Ava.’
‘What’s your definition of an affair?’ I ask.
His eyes swiftly return to mine, all confused by my question. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, she’s in love with you, and you’ve said it was only sex. It was obviously more to her.’ I assess him, trying to gage his reaction.
‘Baby, I’ve told you before, just sex. They always wanted more, but I never gave them any reason to expect it. Never.’
I wince at the referral to they. He means many—many women who want him, many women who’ve had him, many women who have fallen in love with him. I want to tell him what Coral said about him making her need him, but then he’ll know that I intercepted her call. And after having him, who wouldn’t want him again, maybe even think they need him. I know that I did, but now my need is a lot deeper than his physical touch. Now I need him to breath. ‘I don’t want you to see her again.’ I insist.
He returns his eyes to mine. ‘I won’t. I’ve no need to.’
I take a deep breath and return to scanning the ground. ‘I’ve had enough of my wedding. I’d like to leave.’