Chapter One #2
I’m terrified I’m about to do something incredibly stupid. And I can’t tell if that’s marrying the man I’m supposed to love or running away from the man I’m supposed to love.
She sniffs. “Of course you’re not. I’ve never seen you nervous. You’re a wolf, not a lamb.”
I stare at myself for too long. I look like the woman Mike should be marrying. But I don’t look like me and with rising dread in the pit of my stomach, I realise I’ve done this to myself.
I’ve ignored my doubts all week.
Oh God.
I’ve ignored my doubts all week!
It’s too late to leave.
Is it too late to leave?
I turn to Hattie and take a steadying breath. I’m being irrational and I’m never irrational.
This is just cold feet. It will pass!
“Do you think I look too much like a bride?” I ask suddenly. “Like I’m trying too hard to look like a bride?” I take fistfuls of the dress in each hand.
Hattie regards me, brow raised. “Hmm. I’m trying to work out how your brain got to that question. I’m pretty sure looking like a bride is the whole point.”
“Well, yeah, but…” my voice trails off. I have the urge to step out of my body and look at this from a different perspective.
But I don’t have time. Gemma and Millie poke their heads round the door.
“You look bloody perfect,” Gemma says, sounding resentful of the fact.
Millie sighs. “Maybe too perfect.”
This confirms my fears. “Yes! Thank you! I look like I’ve tried too hard.”
“Hair down would’ve been better,” Millie says, hitching her hip like she’s just been proven right.
Hattie spins on her. “Sara’s hair is fine. Stop it.”
“It’s perfect!” Gemma states again with a sting in her tone.
“Should I mess it up a bit?” I ask, staring at the tight bun it’s been rolled into. “I’ve got time to take it down.” I feel manic.
“No, don’t you dare!” Hattie says. “The wedding planner will kill us if we mess with her schedule. You are ready and you look absolutely perfect… Er, no… Beautiful… Regal. Whatever. Doesn’t matter. You’re going down the aisle like this!” She shakes her head. “Everyone, get your flowers.”
Hattie ushers my sisters out of the bathroom and they scurry towards the door.
“See you out there,” Abby says, giving my arm one last squeeze.
“Break a leg!” Millie adds.
“Really?” Gemma frowns.
“What? It’s a thing people say!”
“Girls, move it, go, go,” Hattie practically shoves them out and closes the door behind them, exhaling. “Ok, let’s touch up that makeup one last time.”
I pause, turning back towards the mirror to take in my reflection. “More makeup?”
“Just lipstick. Where is it?” she asks.
“Here,” I say, fishing through my purse on the side until my fingers close around it. I pass it to Hattie just as my phone vibrates on the nightstand. I lean over to take a look. It’s a text from Mike. I swallow.
“Sara?” Hattie waves at me. Has she been speaking?
“One sec.” I clear my throat and turn the phone over. I can’t bring myself to look at it. It will be one of two things. Either an excuse about what happened and a reminder of how sorry he is. Or the truth. A truth I don’t need to hear from him because deep down I know. I saw the messages. I know.
Oh God. I know.
“Umm. Hattie?” I say, my voice too pitchy. She’s looking at my expectantly. “I have a code red.”
Hattie’s eyes widen and her mouth falls open. “Are you joking?”
The tears begin to spill and my hands start to shake. “No,” I manage to force out. “I have to go.”
It’s actually a little cruel of me to enact a code red on Hattie, today of all days.
It was a code we created at university with our housemates for nights out when the creepy dude got a bit too full on, or if a first date was going south.
It’s a do not question, get me out of here, save our souls situation.
She knows the drill. And she knows it’s going to be near on impossible. But if anyone can do it, it’s Hattie.
“Fuuuuck.” She quickly puts the lipstick down and steps towards me, taking my hands in hers. “How bad? What are we talking? Do I need to get my shovel?”
I sniff. “You don’t own a shovel.”
“No. But I have a very cute trowel for my indoor plants.”
I shake my head, tears dripping onto my dress, lips wobbling.
Hattie finds me a tissue and dabs gently at my cheeks, but her act of kindness only makes me feel worse.
I’m terrible. I can’t believe this is happening.
I swore to myself that it wouldn’t come to this.
But something in my stomach tells me that leaving, escaping this mess, is the best and only option for my future happiness.
“Ok, so no to digging graves.” She nods, eyeing me carefully. “What is happening Sara?”
“I need to just…” I take a deep breath. “I need to get out of here. I don’t want to see anyone.”
“Not even Mike?”
“Especially not Mike.”
“Wow. Ok. Yeah.” She looks around searching for inspiration. Then as if she gets the lightbulb moment needed, she turns back to me with a determined smile. “I know what to do. Stay here.”
She leaves me on my own for five minutes. My heart races as I do frantic laps of the room, shaking my hands out like it will rid me of some of my fears. What if she runs into Mike? What if he insists on speaking to me?
I hear footsteps in the hallway and then the door swings open.
Hattie’s forehead shimmers from running around.
“There’s a taxi,” she says, breathing heavy. “At the front of the hotel. I cleared the way, but you’ll have to go alone because I need to stay by the back doors to the bar, so nobody comes this way.”
I practically launch myself at her, holding her close. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“How many times have you gotten me out of a code-red situation?” She laughs, but there’s a nervous tremor there.
We both know I’ll owe her an explanation, but right now, she’s not going to question me.
“You should go. I don’t know how long I can hold this together.
And once you’re out of here, it’s all going to kick off. ”
I step back, releasing her. The guilt almost floors me. “Shit. You’re right. I can’t let you deal with that alone… I’ll—”
“Sara,” Hattie says, sternly, placing her hands on my shoulders so I have to no choice but to look her in the eye.
“You would do the same for me in a heartbeat. And besides, I have backup. They don’t know they’re backup yet, but they’ll help me out.
” I know she’s talking about our close friend Sam and his older brother, Freddie, who’s now her boyfriend.
I nod. I do trust them to have her back, and mine.
“Ok,” I say.
“Ok, let’s go.”
I experience a sharp pinch of adrenaline as I follow her down the stairs and out into the hotel’s courtyard, the long train of my wedding dress rustling along the cobbled path. Large neatly pruned hedgerows block the view of the event space where the wedding party are waiting for me to arrive.
Hattie gives me a final, brief hug. “Go quickly,” she says, nodding towards the street. “I’ve got this.”
I kiss her cheek before striding quickly to the front of the hotel, spotting the black taxi waiting for me up ahead. I dive into the back and sigh so dramatically it comes out like more of a sob.
“Bad day?” the driver asks.
“You could say that,” I manage to squeak out.
He watches me in the rearview mirror, as if he’s waiting for me to have a total meltdown, but within seconds we’re pulling away from the hotel. I look back and wonder what Hattie has in store.
I’m most worried about Dad. The guilt intensifies when I imagine the look on his face. The disappointment. The concern.
As we join the motorway in the direction of home, I finally allow my breathing to return to normal, turn off my phone and look ahead.