She sighs, takes her hand off my knee and adjusts her position on the sofa. “And you have very valid points. He won’t let you go, won’t let you marry someone who is blackmailing you. I get that, but what if you told him the truth and there was some way you could still be together?”
I scoff. “Sure. So do I ask him to be my secret lover while I pretend to be in love with my husband? Or do I ask him to wait two years for me?” The sarcasm is thick in my voice. “Cause both sound like really fucking awful choices.”
“At least you would have givenhimthe choice,” she retorts. “Fuck load better than leaving him thinking you cheated on him. That was a dick move no matter how sound your motive was.” God, I’m a terrible person. I can still vividly picture the betrayal and heartbreak on his face.
I stand and pace the sunny room, stopping to look at one of the large potted ferns in the corner. Outside, it’s grey, thick clouds covering the sun.
“Let’s say I tell him and he takes me back. Then what? We steal time together every day before I go home to another man? He becomes my little secret on the side? It would never be enough.”
Darcey huffs. “I get that it’s not ideal, but it has to be better, surely? Or you know, you could just say fuck it and not get married.”
“Darcey, please. I’m barely hanging on by a thread here. I miss Oliver so much it physically hurts. I’m scared for my father and I’m sad for myself and in two days I’m going to stand in front of people and make promises to a man I detest, all to save my father and the hundreds that would be impacted if the truth got out.” I move to her side and crouch down, my hands on her knees. “I need you by my side, Dars. I need to know that even though this choice is probably the wrong one, that you have my back. I need that. I need you.”
There are tears stinging at my eyes again, but they don’t fall until Darcey kisses my forehead.
“Okay. I don’t like it at all, but I’ll do anything for you.”
When I leave Darcey’s place, I replay the conversation over and over until I’m walking into the flat I’m sharing with Floyd. He’s not home and I don’t know when he’ll be back. We don’t communicate unless it’s for him to tell me about the wedding plans he’s made or to quiz me on the stories he’s fabricated to make our relationship believable. He is well aware that he will never see that money if anyone finds out Floyd coerced me into marrying him. But at the end of the day, I have more at stake if this goes wrong.
The apartment is cold, but I don’t bother turning up the heating. I hate the place. It’s not comfortable and holds nothing that resembles the person I am. It’s all fake plants, fabricated photos of the two of us, and art I would never have picked. The only place I feel remotely at ease is my room, which holds the things that matter most to me. Norman. The photo of me and Oliver and a little wooden penguin that is the most valuable thing in my life.
Though I’m not hungry, I make myself a sandwich, carry it through to my room and lock the door behind me. Sitting crossed legged on the navy sheets that could do with a wash, I take a bite of the sandwich then open my phone and scroll back to the first messages Oliver and I shared. I read them all once, then again, before typing out the same message I draft every night but never send.
Me:I know you won’t believe a word I say, but I need you to know a few things. I’m sorry. I love you. In this lifetime and the next, you will always be it for me. One day, I hope you understand the choice I made.
Chapter 25
Oliver
When I was a kid – back when things were good in my life – we learned about the stages of a storm’s lifecycle in class. I was fascinated by them – how they developed, how they grew and how they ultimately tired themselves out, losing their strength until they were depleted.
Looking up at the thick grey anvils hanging above my head, that lesson comes back to me, and I think about my father’s words and how he said I carried the energy of a storm in me. If that is true, then right now, thunder rolling in the distance, chaos churning inside me, I think I’m at the part where the storm implodes on itself.
Why else would I be here, watching the man I love marry the man he supposedly loves more than me? I’ve talked myself into and out of this decision a hundred times between leaving my flat and arriving at the registry office where the wedding is taking place. The building is more like an old-fashioned mansion, with tall white pillars in front of a big red door, adorned with greenvines and white flowers. There’s a black limo parked on the cobbled driveway and a man dressed in a perfectly cut suit directing guests inside.
As I approach the entrance, I pause and once again wonder what the hell I’m doing. It’s over between Darius and I. He made his choice and it wasn’t me, so why am I torturing myself? Most likely because even now standing outside what is clearly a wedding, I don’t believe it. Perhaps once I’ve seen it with my own eyes, I’ll be able to let him go. I haven’t spoken to Darius since that day in my flat. I’ve written him a thousand messages that I’ve never sent, but I haven’t had the courage to confront him again – too afraid to hear him repeat those wordsthere’s someone else– and yet, here I am, about to live it in real time.
With a deep breath, I straighten my shoulders and walk into the building. There’s a large sweeping staircase to one side, white and orange roses wrapped around the banister. An usher dressed in a suit with an orange tie and cummerbund shows me to the room in which the ceremony is taking place. Most of the guests are already seated. I spot Darcey at the front, Caiden and Jamie next to her. I’m about to slide into a seat at the back when Caiden looks over his shoulder. His eyes meet mine, a frown pulling across his forehead.
He grabs Jamie’s arm and then the two of them are heading my way. I sigh, annoyed I couldn’t get in and out unnoticed as I’d hoped.
“What are you doing here?” Caiden asks, his voice a hoarse whisper.
“I’ve come to see the happy couple on their big day.”
“Cut the shit, Oliver,” Jamie hisses. I look around and am thankful no one is paying us any attention.
“Look.” I hold up my hands. “I’m not here to cause issues. I just wanted to see for myself, okay?”
“See what exactly?” Caiden asks, looking at his watch.
That this is real. That it’s over. That I am once again being left behind.
I don’t answer him and he sighs.
“I have to go. The wedding is about to start.” He leans over and whispers something in Jamie’s ear. Jamie nods before giving him a kiss and then Caiden disappears through the door.
“I’m not leaving,” I say to Jamie, before he has a chance to try to convince me to leave.
