Chapter Eighteen
JESS
I close the card and put it back in its envelope.
Luke waited until we were alone to give me my wedding present – a beautiful pendant in white gold that echoes the style of my wedding band, and along with it, a card full of heartfelt promises.
But then I think about the aftermath of what happened in the hotel garden and the glow his words put in my heart dims slightly.
Once Mum and Scott, the minister, realized they’d been spotted, they sprang apart with red faces – although I’m guessing Mum’s complexion was more from the flush of the alcohol than embarrassment.
The onlookers were distracted by the announcement that the evening buffet was ready and drifted back inside or away from the windows.
To their credit, most of the guests tried to pretend it hadn’t happened and carried on as normal.
Luke encouraged me to eat something, but I hadn’t been able to face it. What a mess. In trying to avoid one disaster, I’d just created another. Different events but the same outcome: a cloud of shame hanging over my wedding day. Thanks, Mum.
I was exhausted, ready to check out emotionally and run away from it all.
However, when I suggested to Luke that we depart early, he looked pensive.
‘Don’t you want to toss your bouquet? And there are friends and family we haven’t had a chance to talk to yet.
Yes, this is our day and, technically, we can do whatever we want, but it’s also a day for the people we love to celebrate with us.
I’d feel bad leaving earlier than planned. ’
I nodded mutely. He was right. I knew he was right.
Wanting to leave was selfish, but that didn’t stop a part of me wishing he’d said, ‘You want to leave now? Let’s do it!
Nobody else matters but you!’ But I can hardly be cross with Luke for being the good son, good brother, good friend I’ve always known him to be.
Isn’t that why I married him in the first place?
It’s after midnight, and I’m sitting on the bed of our room in a cute one-storey cottage at the edge of the Lubbock’s grounds. Many of the guests are staying overnight in the hotel proper, but we opted for hiring out the gatehouse to give us a bit of privacy, and I’m very glad of that now.
Luke emerges from the en suite bathroom. A towel is slung round his waist and he’s rubbing his wet hair with another. He takes one look at me, throws the towel he’s holding onto a chair and comes to stand in front of me. ‘You look sad. Why?’
I shrug. I really don’t know how to define what I’m feeling at the moment.
He sits down beside me, slings an arm around me and pulls me against him so I can rest on his shoulder. ‘Is it your mum?’ He presses a kiss to my temple. ‘I’m sorry that that happened. You did your best to hide it, but I know it took the shine off the rest of the day for you.’
I take a breath and hold it. The truth is, I don’t want to talk about that now.
It’s too raw, too upsetting. I’m not ready to rip myself open and bear my soul to him.
Not in the middle of this crazy nightmare of an experience, not while I’m jumping through the days of my life like that guy from Quantum Leap.
‘How on earth did the pair of them end up like that anyway?’ I ask as I pull away to look at him.
He shakes his head, a bemused smile on his face. ‘I have no idea!’
‘Is he … Is he going to get in trouble?’ I have no idea about these things. Mum has never exactly been a churchgoer, which only makes the whole thing more surprising.
Luke ponders this for a moment. ‘I shouldn’t think so.’
The minister is a family friend of the Harrises. I’m aware they go to a local church that isn’t part of a big denomination, although I’m not really sure what that means.
‘I mean, he’s single,’ Luke adds, ‘and all they did was kiss. I’ve known Scott since we used to be in the youth group together.
He comes from quite a sheltered background and doesn’t normally drink very much.
I don’t know … maybe it shows that ministers can be human too, that even they can be caught out by constant topping up of champagne glasses? ’
That’ll make sense, I suppose, but I just can’t get my head round it. ‘But of all the women there … My mum? He must be at least fifteen years younger than her!’
Luke’s mouth pulls into something that’s part-smile, part-grimace.
‘To be fair, I’m guessing it’s your mum who made the first move, but even if she hadn’t, she’s a good-looking woman.
And, okay, he has a job that people have certain preconceptions about, but he’s still a man.
In the grand scheme of things, he got caught kissing someone in the garden.
There’s nothing horrendously evil about that.
However, whether everyone feels proud of themselves in the morning will remain to be seen. ’
I can’t help but laugh at that. I relax against Luke and sigh. This feels nice. This was the time when Luke was my rock, my everything, and I need that right now.
Sometimes, I just feel so lonely. Even though I’m married to a man who is – or used to be – this kind and understanding, I’ve been feeling a gnawing sense of emptiness for a long time. And it’s only become magnified since I’ve been having this weird, ongoing experience of déjà vu.
It’s not as if I can tell anyone about what’s happening to me.
They’d think I was having a psychiatric episode, and maybe they wouldn’t be wrong.
On top of that, every day I’m reliving isn’t a run-of-the-mill Thursday, where I go to work, come home, cook dinner, watch some TV …
The last three days have been major milestones in my life, causing a rollercoaster of emotions. I’m exhausted.
So, when Luke runs his hand up my neck, pulls me to him and starts to kiss me, I don’t resist. In fact, I kiss him back.
Enthusiastically. I just want to stop thinking about it all.
I don’t want to think about anything, so I don’t.
I just feel. I let the sheer physical pleasure of my wedding night sweep it all away until I’m lying half-asleep in Luke’s arms, my heartbeat steady and slow for the first time in days, and refusing to think about tomorrow.