Orla
Girls Group Chat
Me:
Girls, are you both in London? We need to talk.
Gwen:
Yeah, I’m here… this doesn’t sound good.
Kate:
Same. Is this a coffee at my house chat or a wine and tissues chat?
Me:
Dog & Duck at six. I’ll explain then.
By the time six p.m. rolled around, I’d rehearsed the conversation in my head a thousand times and still felt like I was heading into a witness interrogation. There was no version of it that didn’t sound ridiculous out loud.
There were only a couple of other tables full at the Dog & Duck when I slid into a booth, a bottle of wine I’d ordered ahead of their arrival breathing on the table.
My stomach lodged somewhere near my throat.
When Gwen and Kate arrived together, their matching looks of concern told me they’d spent the walk over speculating on which disaster I’d landed myself in.
They sat down, eyes fixed on me like they were about to take part in a hostage negotiation.
“Right then,” Gwen said briskly, arms crossing like she was leading said interrogation. “Hit us. Whose arse are we kicking?”
“What? No one’s arse!” I laughed all too fast and weirdly defensive.
“Then what?” Kate asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Jesus, can we not enjoy a drink first?” I croaked nervously, reaching for the bottle, but Gwen’s hand slapped it back down.
“Not touching a drop until you spill.”
I groaned. “Fine.”
My veins started recoiling. I took a deep breath. I just had to spit it out. Rip off the plaster so to speak. “You know Tyler and I didn’t come straight back after the Open?”
Kate frowned. “I assumed you just stayed in New York a few more days?”
“Well…not exactly…”
Gwen’s brows furrowed hard. “Where, then?”
“We…uh…went to Vegas.” My throat was drier than the Sahara Desert at this point.
Kate dropped her head into her hands. “Oh, God. If Vegas is involved, it’s not going to be subtle.”
Gwen leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “Don’t tell me you…”
“I kind of…might have… possibly married Tyler Reed.”
The table shook as Gwen slapped her palms down hard enough to rattle the glasses. “OH MY FUCKING GOD.”
That earned a few concerned looks from the other patrons. Kate peeked at me between her fingers. “Please tell me this is a metaphor. Like, you ‘married’ him in a fun, non-legally-binding, Elvis impersonator kind of way.”
I laughed nervously. “Nope. Legal. Signed. Witnessed. Kissed the groom.”
Gwen sat back, gobsmacked. “Orla. You married a man you’ve known for two months. You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“For fuck’s sake, Gwen. No.”
Kate finally dropped her hands, fixing me with her psychologist stare. “Walk us through it, patient zero. How the hell did you convince Tyler Reed to marry you?”
“It was his idea.” I shot back, offended by the assumption.
Their twin jaws dropped.
“Really?” Kate said.
“Yeah. After he got my name tattooed on him.” I replied, as if it were totally normal and casual.
Silence.
“Oh Jesus,” Gwen muttered, slumping back. “This keeps getting worse.”
Kate pinched the bridge of her nose, lips twitching like she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or stage an intervention. “Orla. This is… I don’t even know what this is.”
“I know it’s mad,” I said quickly. “But that photo the tabloids ran, the one that made it look like he was cheating? It was his sister-in-law. His brother was right there in the cab, cropped out of it. I spiralled. Wouldn’t even let him explain. He broke down my hotel door.”
“He WHAT?!” Gwen nearly spun off her seat.
“Word got round the tour fast about that one,” Kate muttered. “It wasn’t his finest moment.”
“No,” I admitted, “but that night he poured his heart out. Showed me a side of him nobody else gets to see. He was there for me when I saw Josh’s Instagram too, didn’t even flinch.”
Something in Gwen’s face softened at that, and she reached across to squeeze my hand, knowing how hurt I was that night.
“Yes, we were drunk,” I said. “Yes, it’s reckless and bonkers. But he’s honest. He’s brave. And I love him more than I thought I could.”
They just stared at me. My lip wobbled. “You both think I’m mental, don’t you?”
Kate’s grin finally cracked. “Babe, you’re talking to someone who got pregnant after two months, quit her job, and followed her racket slinging baby daddy across the world. You’re in excellent company.”
Gwen laughed, shaking her head at both of us. “Honestly? You’re nuts. Both of you. But, Orla, you’re happy. And I’ve never seen him like this. It only has to make sense to you and him.”
I sighed, my shoulders lowered from the relief of telling these two. My absolute lifelines.
“I love you, guys.” My throat caught as I pulled them both into a hug. They were both shaking their heads, but neither of them looked as worried as when they’d arrived anymore, just proud. Like I wasn’t alone in the madness despite how terrified I had been about telling people.
“And…look.”
I fished the perfect, emerald cut Tiffany ring from my pocket, sliding it onto my finger alongside the slim wedding band.
Kate’s jaw dropped. “Oh my Christ.”
“Jesus,” Gwen whispered. “He really isn’t playing around, is he?”
I shook my head, grinning like a fool.
“Your brother is going to hit the roof,” Gwen added.
I groaned, snapping out of my blissful newlywed bubble. “Don’t I bloody know it. I’ve basically been in witness protection at Tyler’s hotel suite since we got back.”
“He knows you’re back together right? After that photo?” Kate asked cautiously.
“Of course he does, he kept calling me the night I got back there because I’d left in such a temper— explained it all to him. Not that it mattered much.”
Kate snorted into her wine. “Well, Mrs Reed…better hope the roof holds.”