Chapter 32 #2
Mia asks about our wedding plans, the ring, the venue, the honeymoon, the party favours, but also the nice questions that would make for a killer story.
She plays the part perfectly, and I find myself admiring her.
She’s a natural, pressing for details an audience would love to read.
If she suspects any of the stories are fabricated, she gives nothing away.
Her eagerness even catches Jamie off-guard, but he answers each question swiftly. If I didn’t know the truth behind his lies, perhaps I’d fall for the character he’s performing too.
Mia doesn’t pry about her suspicions, her professionalism remaining intact. But the silence hangs there.
True to her word, the whole ordeal lasts less than an hour, the interview recorded through her iPad.
“So, what’s next for the two of you?” she asks, voice polite but strained.
Jamie launches into some sickly rehearsed answer about “making a difference”. I barely hear it, watching the way Mia bites the inside of her cheek, the subtle twitch in her left brow. She’s angry or afraid – I’m not sure which.
I smile gently at her, and I swear she starts to return the expression.
“That must be everything.” Jamie rises, his chair screeching against the floor. “Come on – it’s getting late.”
“Wait.” Mia’s smile falters. “Would I be able to have a few minutes alone with the future bride?”
I feel him tense beside me. “Why?”
“Why?” She gawks at him. “Because I’d fucking like to.”
I’d never dare to speak to Jamie that way, but as he draws his head back, shock written across his features, I bite back a smile.
“There are some things only meant to be told from woman to woman.” Jamie’s scepticism makes Mia sigh. “Details of the dress, periods—”
He grimaces. “Fine.”
Perhaps I’d like to rekindle, apologise for the mistakes I made, but with the way Mia’s gaze returns to Jamie’s grip on my arm, the sickness returns with force. She thinks by getting me alone I’ll confess.
Jamie closes the door as he exits, his shadow lingering in the hallway. Mia and I wait for the moment he leaves. But it never comes.
I look at her then. She might be the only person who could pull the truth from me if she really pressed. Or maybe I’m so desperate to confess the lie that I don’t trust myself around her.
She gestures to the door. “Does he always wait outside doors like that?”
“No,” I lie.
We stare at each other.
I can feel her eyes searching, questioning. Her lips part as if she might say something, but then she glances at Jamie’s silhouette, closing her mouth.
“Thank you for today, Mia.” I force a swallow. “You really deserve everything you’ve achieved. Your parents must be proud.”
She takes my hand as I try to step away. My limbs tremble, and I pull myself free, crossing my arms to disguise the jittery movement. She grapples for her iPad, opening a blank note. Her fingers fly across the screen.
“Your mum must be really happy about the engagement,” she says aloud.
“Yeah,” I mutter, with a wince. “She would have been.”
Confusion hits her first, then, slowly, realisation sets in.
“Oh, Gigi …” Her face drains of colour. “I … I didn’t know.”
I shake my head, refusing to talk about it.
Mia hesitates before gesturing down, turning the iPad screen my way.
Are you okay?
She looks at me, eyes steady, not accusing, just … seeing me, and that alone makes something inside me ache. Tears come dangerously close to the surface – not enough to overspill, but they hang on the edge.
I smile. “Of course.”
She withdraws the iPad, erasing the message. She types on the keyboard again.
Breaking the quiet, she says, “I’m happy you got your happily ever after.”
She turns the screen to me again.
Does Harry know?
I blink hard, glancing towards the door, where Jamie’s shadow still lingers.
What’s she asking me? Whether he knows about the engagement?
I pause. My lips twitch like they might speak on their own. I silently mouth, “He does.”
“I always knew you’d get married,” Mia says, her fingers moving again.
She pauses, gesturing down one last time.
But perhaps to a different man.
The ache is instant. A slow outpouring of sadness that begins in my throat and spreads through my chest.
“If you need anything … anything at all …” – she looks me directly in the eyes, keeping her voice low – “I’m only a call away.”
I want to tell her it’s too late. That I made choices I can’t undo.
“I don’t deserve that,” I murmur.
Mia doesn’t argue. She doesn’t press. She looks at me for a long time, eyes searching for a glimmer of the person she once knew.
“I’m so sorry about what happened with Andy,” I confess. “What I did to you – what I did to him. You both didn’t deserve that.”
“Wait …” She really looks at me now. “You’re not the one making him act this way?”
“What?” I sputter. “No, of course not—”
Jamie strides in. “It’s time to go. Richard’s waiting.” He’s at my side in an instant, hand pressed to my lower back to escort me out. “Thank you, Mia.”
Her silence follows me out the door. As we near the exit, she calls out.
“Gigi?” Mia’s voice softens. “Let’s catch up soon, okay?”
Jamie’s stare presses into the side of my face as I turn my head over my shoulder. “Let’s go,” he says sternly.
I keep my eyes trained on Mia until Jamie steers us round the corner. Then the effect of not seeing her has me bowing my head, my heart heavy in my chest.
I’m grateful she didn’t press me further.
Because if she had, I would have told her everything.