‘I know it must feel like that.’ Lizzie paused. ‘One thing I do know is that if it was the other way around and Gareth was having second thoughts, he wouldn’t think twice about calling it off.’
I gazed at her in amazement. ‘No way would he do that. He loves me, Lizzie. He wouldn’t be marrying me if he wasn’t committed to me.’ But I can’t help thinking the truth lies somewhere in between; that what’s more shocking is I had no idea she thought so little of him. ‘I didn’t know you felt like that.’
‘That you’re engaged to a man with little empathy or concern for anyone other than himself?’ she said wryly. ‘Really, Tilly, I sincerely doubt that.’
‘Gareth cares about people,’ I say defensively. ‘He always has my back. And OK, so it might not be obvious. But if he was that uncaring, do you honestly think I’d be marrying him?’ I stared at Lizzie again. ‘You really don’t like him, do you?’
Lizzie was silent. ‘Seeing as we’re being honest… It’s not that I dislike him – really, Tills. I’m just not sure he’s right for you.’
I remember feeling it was like the bottom had fallen out of my world. I’d always counted on Lizzie. It had never crossed my mind that she didn’t love Gareth. Now, of course, I can see, she was asking all the right questions; that the problem was me, not wanting to hear the answers.
Lizzie went on. ‘I do like him, Tills. He’s a good laugh – I’ll give him that much. But you’re a giver. You have this huge, generous heart that has room for everyone you love. And you can forgive anything in the world. I’ve watched Gareth. All he does is take from you.’
This time, I gasped out loud. ‘It isn’t like that.’ But I was reeling. Was that really how he was? The way I saw it, Gareth was just Gareth. Transparent – without pretention. A genuine, down-to-earth, what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of guy. OK, so I was aware he took me for granted, just a little. But Lizzie was wrong – wasn’t she?
‘I’m so sorry.’ Lizzie looked mortified. ‘Me and my big mouth. I shouldn’t have said any of that. I think I must have your wedding jitters.’ Reaching out a hand, she grasped one of mine. ‘Do you forgive me?’
‘There’s nothing to forgive.’ I frowned. ‘I’m just surprised. Do you really think he’s like that?’
‘Please, Tilly. Let’s not go there.’ Lizzie sounded flat. ‘I don’t want to character-assassinate the man who’s about to become my brother-in-law.’
‘I want to know. You and I have always been honest with each other.’ I paused. ‘This really matters to me.’
‘I know it does. And it’s your life,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s up to you and no one else who you spend it with. If Gareth makes you happy, then that’s enough for me.’
It was the end of the conversation. But I couldn’t help thinking that if Gareth was the one, we wouldn’t have been sitting there having this conversation in the first place; that I wouldn’t have been remotely interested in Adam. I’d have been off my head with excitement, driving Lizzie and everyone else up the wall because I could only talk about one thing – my wedding. And I wasn’t.
As the realisation hit me, I felt the bottom of my stomach drop. My all-seeing, wise little sister had seen what I hadn’t wanted to. I stared at her. ‘What do I do?’
‘Only you know the answer to that one.’ Her eyes gazed into mine. ‘If I were you, I’d probably talk to Gareth. But if it was me, I wouldn’t be able to hide it from him.’
But Gareth wouldn’t notice if I wasn’t myself. ‘If I tell him I’m having doubts, it will be the end of us.’ I stared across the neatly mown grass. ‘I have to be really sure that’s what I want.’
‘You also have to be really sure if you go ahead, that you want that, too,’ Lizzie reminded me gently.
* * *
Thanks to Lizzie, somehow I made it through that evening without my parents suspecting anything, nodding when my dad mentioned the church side of things and how he’d invited Father Peter, who was marrying us, to the reception. My dad was deeply religious – which felt like another pressure. If the wedding went ahead and if later on it all went wrong, I knew he’d be against us getting divorced.
But thinking about divorce before we were even married was making things worse and my head was spinning. Making my excuses, I avoided Lizzie’s gaze as I left early. I drove down the lane, pulled over into a gateway and turned the engine off. Sitting there, I gazed across the fields, taking in the cattle that were mooching quietly, the swallows flitting around the skies, the butterflies hovering above the wildflowers. Everything seemingly so peaceful. If only I felt the same.
When I got back to the flat, Gareth was out. After throwing open the windows, I cleared up the plate he’d left on the floor and picked up some empty beer bottles.
Sinking into the sofa, a sigh came from me. Lizzie was right – there was no point me telling myself otherwise. Gareth could be thoughtless at times – a petty example being those dirty plates he’d left on the floor, the washing up that sat on the side of the sink. Yet not once had I told him I didn’t like it. And that was my fault, wasn’t it? It wasn’t fair to expect him to read my mind.
Sitting there, for a moment, I imagined us having a baby. We’d only vaguely talked about it, but suddenly I could see us: Gareth the adoring father, the hands-on dad and caring husband, loving that we were a family every bit as much as I did.
I heard a key in the door before it opened, then closed and Gareth walked in. When he saw me sitting on the sofa, a look of surprise crossed his face.
‘I thought you were at your parents’ house.’
‘I was. I got back about twenty minutes ago.’ I looked at him. ‘Have you been to the pub?’
‘Just for a couple. Thought I’d make the most of it.’
‘What – being single, you mean?’ The words slipped out without me intending them to.
Clearly I’d struck a nerve. Standing there, he had the grace to look uncomfortable. ‘I didn’t mean it like that, Tilly. It’s hardly as though anything’s going to change, is it?’
