Chapter Twenty-Three
‘This is my girlfriend, Lucy,’ said Anthony for the fifteenth time that day.
Lucy gritted her teeth and smiled, shaking the hand of yet another one of Anthony’s mates whose name she’d already forgotten.
He and his cousin Lee had grown up together, raised by their mutual grandmother and extended family, so they had a common circle of friends and still boxed at the same club.
Hence Lucy and Anthony had been invited on countless double-dates, including holiday to Tenerife with one of Anthony’s old school friends and his girlfriend, who were a lawyer and an art teacher from Portishead.
They seemed lovely and under different circumstances Lucy might have considered it, but Anthony wasn’t her boyfriend and she was in no position to accept holiday offers.
‘Where you been hiding this one then?’ leered a friend from the boxing club, who was clearly plastered. ‘She’s the first knockout you’ve had in a while.’
‘Away from you,’ muttered Anthony, steering Lucy towards a standing table by the bar, the friend’s jeers following them. ‘You’re punching, mate. She’s too good for you.’
‘Sorry about that,’ said Anthony.
‘Can you please stop introducing me as your girlfriend?’ said Lucy, trying to keep her tone light and friendly. ‘I don’t mind being your date, but your Auntie Diane has invited me to Sunday lunch.’
‘Shit, really?’ said Anthony. ‘When?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘What did you say? Can you make it? She’s a friend of my nan’s and not actually my auntie, but she’s an incredible cook.’
‘I’m sure she is, but obviously it’s a no. I’m not your girlfriend, remember?’
‘Yeah, I know, sorry,’ said Anthony, holding up the palms of his hands. ‘It’s just easier to say girlfriend. Date makes it look like I’ve dragged you along for the optics.’
‘You HAVE dragged me along for the optics,’ laughed Lucy.
‘And can I just say that you look incredible.’ He gave Lucy an appreciative gaze from top to toe, from her emerald green wrap dress that showed a very demure amount of cleavage, to her nude heels that were nearly new Louboutins bought from Vinted for ￡100, and the only reason Lucy had woken up looking forward to this event.
‘You don’t look so bad yourself,’ smiled Lucy.
She’d never seen Anthony dressed up; in fact she’d never seen Anthony wearing much of anything.
There were few men who didn’t scrub up nicely in a well-tailored three-piece suit, and Anthony was no exception.
He also smelled glorious, but she still hadn’t decided if she was up for getting naked with him later.
She’d kept both him and Marco away all week, and still didn’t feel very in the mood.
‘You’re having a good time, right?’ She smiled and nodded; it was impossible not to be a tiny bit charmed by how much it obviously mattered to him.
‘Yes,’ said Lucy, holding out her hand so he could take it. ‘You have a lovely family.’
‘See, told you. You want to stay at mine later?’
‘Maybe,’ said Lucy with a shrug. ‘I’ve got my eye on at least two of your cousins, including the groom.’
‘You’re hilarious,’ said Anthony. ‘Seriously though, don’t cross Zoe, the bride – she’s a chef and owns a lot of really sharp knives. Stay there, and I’ll get us a couple of drinks.’ He gave her a kiss on the cheek, then plunged into the crowd at the bar and disappeared.
Lucy pulled a compact out of her clutch bag and touched up her red lipstick, half-watching Zoe chatting with three of her bridesmaids at the next table.
Lucy had always assumed she’d never get married – you needed to do long-term relationships, for a start – but looking at the bride and groom obviously having the best day of their lives, it was hard not to wonder if she was missing out on something.
Yesterday she’d seen a therapist for the first time in nearly eight years, and spent an hour trying to explain how she was feeling right now.
Like the things she hung on to as safe and familiar – the places, the rituals, the routines – had grown horns and teeth and were closing in on her, laughing at her.
She’d booked another appointment for next Friday, in the slot normally reserved for going to the pub with Jonno.
She’d decided that wine therapy could probably go on hold for a while, and persuaded him to come to the gym with her instead.
‘Yeah, Nate Lambert,’ said Zoe, just as Lucy had moved on to nervously imagining what her dream wedding dress might look like.
A 1930s-style diaphanous, bias-cut satin condom with a train and a cowl neck, she’d decided.
Maybe she could get Titan to sponsor it.
‘You know? The TikTok guy who did that Ed Sheeran mountain thing.’
‘Really?’ said one of the bridesmaids. Lucy smiled, wondering if Nate’s ears were burning. Everyone was talking about him these days; they must be on fire 24/7.
‘Yep,’ said Zoe. ‘I went to school with him in Clevedon. He couldn’t make the ceremony cos he had a TV thing this morning, but he said he’d try his best.’
Lucy’s heart started to pound as she looked around, piecing together the implications of what Zoe had just said. Before she could even regroup, Anthony reappeared with two glasses of champagne and . . . Nate.
‘Look who I found loitering by the door,’ said Anthony. ‘You guys know each other, right? From your Swiss adventure?’
‘Nate!’ exclaimed Zoe, hobbling over in her mermaid dress to give him a hug.
‘So glad you could make it, babes. Oh my God, look at you.’ Lucy took in Nate’s very obvious TV glow-up – a haircut, a subtle tan that was definitely not the norm for January, and a dark blue velvet suit that was very un-Nate and extremely sexy.
She looked away self-consciously, suddenly aware of how this must look, and how much Nate knew about her compared to everyone else in this room. The thought made her feel naked.
‘Congratulations,’ muttered Nate, hugging Zoe but barely taking his eyes off Lucy. ‘You look amazing.’
‘Do you know Anthony’s girlfriend too?’ asked Zoe, looking a tiny bit put out that Nate seemed to be transfixed by Lucy and entirely ignoring her.
‘Yeah,’ said Nate, glancing at Anthony with a look that was both confused and .
. . something else. Angry, maybe? As self-conscious and regret-filled as Lucy?
She felt a powerful urge to explain, to tell him that this was all just for show and she was doing Anthony a favour, but clearly she couldn’t say any of that stuff out loud.
And what difference would it make, anyway?
It didn’t change the facts of their respective situations.
‘I reckon you guys will be next,’ said Zoe, beaming at Anthony and Lucy. ‘You’ve been so loved up all day.’
‘Yeah, well. You set a great example,’ said Anthony, giving Lucy’s hand an apologetic squeeze.
‘Will you sing for us later?’ said Zoe, turning her attention to Nate.
Nate visibly paled under his tan. ‘Oh,’ he said with an awkward laugh. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘Please?’ said Zoe. ‘It would totally make my wedding.’
‘No, I really can’t,’ said Nate, looking slightly panicked. ‘It’s a contract thing. I can’t sing in public without . . . you know . . . I’m really sorry.’
‘Oh,’ said Zoe, looking devastated. ‘Well, never mind.’ She tossed her head, her hair rigid with hairspray, and Lucy could tell that she actually minded a great deal. How many people had she told that Nate Lambert was going to sing at her wedding?
‘I just need to . . . I’ll be back in a minute,’ said Nate, giving Lucy a final glance and hurrying towards the door to the hotel reception.
‘Give me a minute,’ muttered Lucy, extracting herself from Anthony’s grasp and hurrying after him, ignoring the swooping, sick feeling in her stomach.
‘Nate,’ she called as she spotted him in the corridor.
He ignored her and pushed through the front door into the car park, so Lucy shouted his name again, but with feeling. ‘NATE.’
‘What?’ said Nate, turning to face her. It was freezing out here, and the word was accompanied by a cloud of vapour in the frigid air.
‘Is that true?’ she asked. ‘The singing contract thing? Or do you just not want to?’
‘What does it matter?’ snapped Nate. ‘Lying seems to be all the rage these days.’
‘What does that mean?’ demanded Lucy, feeling suddenly wobbly in her heels. Christ, it was cold.
‘Forget it,’ said Nate. ‘It’s none of my business.’
Lucy opened her mouth to explain about Anthony, to justify herself, but couldn’t find the words.
Nothing she could say would make the smallest amount of difference, other than to make her situation look even more messed-up and pathetic.
A broken, lonely, freezing-cold woman in a green dress, pretending to be someone’s girlfriend.
‘For fuck’s sake,’ said Nate. ‘Take my jacket.’
‘No,’ said Lucy, reaching out to stop him before he’d wrestled one arm out. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about Sasha?’ It struck her that she might never see Nate again, and she felt a powerful need to hear him say it.
There was a pause of maybe three seconds, but it felt like forever to Lucy. ‘Shit,’ breathed Nate, visibly paling under his unseasonal tan. ‘How did you find out?’
‘I guessed,’ said Lucy. ‘But Sasha already knows that. Why didn’t she tell you?’
‘I haven’t seen her all week,’ said Nate, looking desperate. ‘I’ve been all over the place, with Alex and his team. We’re catching up tomorrow, she’s got a list of things to talk to me about.’
Lucy swallowed the sick feeling in her throat at the thought of Nate and Sasha chatting in bed on a Sunday morning, the way she and Nate had last Sunday.
‘So why are you upset with me?’ she asked. ‘Switzerland was a surreal experience, but we’re back now. What do you want from me, exactly?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Nate helplessly, burying his hands in his pockets as he shuffled awkwardly in the cold. ‘You feel like some kind of . . . anchor, I guess.’
‘An anchor?’
‘Yeah. Like, everything is mad and moving too fast right now. But thinking about you makes me feel . . . I don’t know. Calmer. More on top of things.’
Lucy took a deep breath, feeling a mix of humiliation and disappointment that Nate’s connection to her was one of stability and safety, and not the same burning, aching desire she felt for him.
‘I can’t be your anchor, Nate,’ she said gently. ‘I can barely anchor myself half the time.’ And I have feelings for you, thought Lucy, properly admitting it to herself for the first time. I didn’t see it coming, but it’s there. And that’s a mess I definitely can’t get into.
‘I know,’ said Nate. ‘I’m sorry. Things are a bit crazy. I just—’
‘It’s fine,’ said Lucy. ‘Sasha is amazing, and Alex clearly knows what he’s doing. You’re in good hands, Nate. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.’
‘Yeah,’ said Nate, looking a little lost. ‘I guess it is.’
‘You should go back in,’ said Lucy. ‘There are two hundred people in there waiting for a selfie.’
‘Yeah, might give that a miss,’ said Nate. ‘You look great, by the way.’ He glanced over her shoulder, and Lucy turned to see Anthony heading their way.
‘Thanks,’ said Lucy, wishing they were back in the mountains, just the two of them. ‘So do you.’
‘See you around,’ said Nate, giving her a half-smile before hurrying off through the car park. Within seconds he’d ducked round the side of the building and disappeared.
I’m not sure I will see you around, thought Lucy, and the cold, hollow void in her chest was a kind of pain deeper than any she’d felt in eleven years.
‘You OK?’ asked Anthony, appearing by her shoulder. He was carrying her coat, and the simple kindness of the gesture made her want to cry.
‘Yeah,’ she said, sliding her arms in and leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Can you give me a minute?’
‘Sure,’ said Anthony softly, resting his hands on her shoulders for a moment. ‘See you back in there in a bit.’
Lucy wrapped her arms around herself and took deep breaths, the vapour making white plumes in the frigid air.
What am I doing? she asked herself. She was at a beautiful wedding with a man she knew intimately, and yet didn’t know at all.
In a city that used to feel like a refuge, and now was beginning to feel like a prison.
Shutting down any opportunity to seize the day or spread her wings or open her heart, other than to a man whose heart was already taken.
You are self-sabotaging, she told herself.
You’ve been doing it for years. Not the way Leo did – he’d lost himself in drugs and booze and party people, whereas Lucy had chosen expensive sheets and organic surface cleaners and the safety of familiar, well-trodden paths that rarely led to anywhere outside her comfort zone.
This needs to stop, she told herself. Nate isn’t the one, but he can be the spark that becomes a flame and changes everything.
She swallowed hard, feeling the resolve warm her blood and quell the sick feeling in her stomach.
She turned on her heel and headed back inside, wondering idly if Anthony could dance.