30. Virgin Bride
30
VIRGIN brIDE
The house seemed empty without her, almost desolate. Mitch closed his magazine, put it on the nightstand, and clicked off the bedside lamp. He lay back, his fingers interlaced behind his head as he imagined the scene at the chapel in Sydney. Tayla, sitting in her wedding dress, waiting for a man who would never show.
His mind raced, the unease nothing to do with their contract, but rather, his growing feelings for her. That chemistry between them. Because, as much as she’d kept her distance with that air of indifference, Hayden’s visit meant the pieces of the puzzle had slipped into place. He’d left Tayla at the altar, the jerk. How could he do that to her? And what about his ‘virgin bride’ comment? Surely Tayla wasn’t still a virgin?
Slow things down.
Just as Mitch picked up his phone to check his texts, the bottom door opened and shut. He closed his eyes, feeling a release of tension as Tayla climbed the stairs. She went to her room without a word, and a few minutes later, the shower turned on. By the time she’d finished in the bathroom, he’d almost dozed off.
He rolled over to face her when she knocked on his door, the dim light from the hall washing her from behind. Dressed in a tank and skimpy sleep shorts, she carried a small pack of tissues in her hand. “Can I come in?”
“Sure. Are you okay?”
“I’m a bit fragile, to be honest.”
Tayla moved to the bed and sat cross-legged on top of the duvet. His heart raced at the sight of her, and as she draped the throw around her shoulders, he sat up and rested his back on the headboard, so they were face-to-face.
He inhaled, struggling to focus. “Have you been at yoga all this time?”
“No. It finished about an hour ago, but I went for a walk along the boardwalk.”
“I don’t like you walking by yourself at night.”
“I needed to clear my head. It was full of what-ifs and maybes.” She fiddled with the hem of the throw, twisting a snagged thread with her fingers. “Anna called me this morning.”
“Who, the wife? Did you talk to her?”
“Not for long. Well, she talked, I listened, then hung up on her. She’s…loud and brash. Hayden’s such a gentle man—traditional and articulate. They don’t seem to fit somehow. It was weird; even weirder when she said that monogamy threatened her independence.”
“She’s in favor of his extended family suggestion?”
“Apparently. Seems I’m the only one who’s not. I guess that’s me—old-fashioned Tayla. She said they have strong sexual chemistry, but she doesn’t want a full-on relationship.”
“Does that make you sad…knowing they have that chemistry?”
Frown lines tracked across her forehead. Mitch waited for her to reply, to confide.
“It’s something we never explored. We were waiting until after the wedding.”
Hayden’s ‘virgin bride’ comment flashed through his mind again. “So, you guys never…?”
Tayla shook her head. Broke eye contact. Mitch wanted to reach out—to hold her—but it wasn’t the right time. He didn’t want to confuse her. She had to come to him on her own terms.
“I don’t know why. Maybe he didn’t love me after all.”
“I doubt that’s true,” he said gently. “He flew from Sydney to woo you back. I’m sure he loves you a great deal.”
“Or the thought of me perhaps—pure and untouched.” She pulled a tissue from the pack and blew her nose. “Looking back, I can’t believe I went along with it…our ‘intellectual relationship’ as he called it.”
Mitch wanted to ask the obvious question but decided against it in case he’d misinterpreted her meaning. Surely she’d had boyfriends at university? He’d heard of the born-again virgin movement, thought it was ridiculous. You were either a virgin or you weren’t, but maybe Tayla had been celibate since meeting Hayden.
“When he turned up unannounced, I was terrified. Not of him, but of my own feelings—scared I’d look at him and that love-light filter would be as strong as ever.”
He waited. When she didn’t continue, he took his cue. “And is it?”
“No.” She looked at him now, the half-hearted smile on her lips not making it to her eyes. “In a way, that shocked me. That feeling of being free from his…control is the wrong word, but I’m tired and can’t think straight.”
Having felt the same way when he finished with Prue, Mitch understood. “I get it.”
“Anyway, I’d better go to bed. Thanks for the ear. I’m sorry I’ve been distant, but those first few months I questioned every decision I’d ever made, wondering why I wasn’t good enough. And as the weeks passed, I sometimes forgot the person I’d spent months investing my time in wasn’t there anymore.”
“You mean Hayden?”
Tayla nodded.
“I understand. It took me a long time to get over Prue. ”
“What happened…with you and Prue?”
“Same shit, different scenario.” He leaned his head back and sighed. “I thought I’d miss her much more than I did…I do. And I did at first. Now, I’m just relieved it’s over.”
“Are you saying that she cheated?”
“Yeah, and spectacularly. It seems threesomes were the flavor of the month back then. Luckily, I didn’t know the other two guys. I tried to get over it—forgive her—but in the end, I’d lost that trust.”
They stayed silent for a few moments. Mitch wished she would slip into bed with him, for them to make love and shut the world out for a while.
“If you want to go back to Sydney, I won’t stand in your way. Now the sale’s been finalized, I can tell Ken you’ve got work commitments there.”
Tayla buried her face in her hands. When she finally looked at him, he knew he’d said the wrong thing. It hadn’t occurred to him she might want to stay, no matter what she’d told Hayden.
“Thanks.” She stood and folded the throw, then placed it over the end of the bed. “But I need to be here for Mum and Dad.”
He reached out, offering his hand. “Hey, come here.”
Tayla glanced toward the door, her hesitation giving Mitch a small ray of hope. She looked back, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t. Not tonight.”
Freedom. Such a strange concept. Something people often longed for from the security of a stable yet stale relationship. But freedom comes in many forms, and without love and friendship, freedom easily slips into loneliness.
Tayla returned to her bedroom and shut the door. She’d known that Hayden would crash back into her life at some stage. He seldom took no for an answer. And while waging a vendetta wasn’t his style, Hayden had no difficulty in getting his point across.
She’d once seen herself in the same vein—articulate and self-contained—and with a determination to make the most of her freedom, Tayla had wanted for nothing. She’d shopped, eaten, and breathed city life. Traveled to Bali for yoga retreats, gone to concerts and stage shows, lived the dream.
Life had been full, but when she’d let the mask slip, empty all the same.
Self-assuredness aside, she’d wanted a romantic relationship for years. Longed to marry and have children, to lie in bed on a Sunday morning in the arms of her man after a wild night of heady pleasure.
And when her Sydney girlfriends had complained that most men had one-track minds, she understood. She thought about sex too. A lot. Longed for it, marveled at the concept. After all, sex was arguably the strongest instinct known to mankind. And when you’re denied something, you crave it more. Much like being on a crash diet.
Hayden had called in that morning to drop off the key, full of apologies and solutions. He and Anna had it all planned out. Tayla just had to play her part. Toe the line.
Hell no to that!
Her heart had raced as he’d tried to kiss her goodbye. Not with excitement but alarm. When she’d pushed him away, he’d thrown his hands in the air and stormed off. She’d rarely seen him sulk, but when she had, he’d done it well.
Now Mitch had set her free before they’d had a chance to visit his marriage with benefits suggestion. Set himself free as well, she suspected. Not that she blamed him. Tim always said that it can take six months to get over a bad breakup. If you hadn’t moved on in six months, it was time to stop the pity party and see a shrink. As usual, Tim was right. And while Tayla hadn’t reach that milestone yet, she’d moped around long enough, dragging her baggage behind her.
But when the dust settled, she knew her feelings would still be the same. She didn’t want Hayden and Anna and a stepchild. She wanted Mitch.
Hello, freedom, you old bastard of a friend.