Elias
It was, in fact, not fine.
Mom arranged an engagement party for us, and as soon as we walked into the living room where everyone was, I felt Bridget check out. She went ridged, her back ramrod straight and stiff. Every interaction has been robotic, like she’s copy and pasting conversations and altering them to each person.
Avery whisked her away about twenty minutes ago, and I’ve been watching her from the sideline since. Oscar and Isobel arrived not long after us, and by the way my brother walked straight to the kitchen and grabbed a beer, told me they had just been fighting.
In all the years they’ve been together, I’ve only ever seen them fight one time. It was just after Isobel found out she was pregnant with Olivia. They were both scared and said some things they shouldn’t have, and it lasted a total of three weeks before they reconciled.
If the longing look Oscar keeps sending Isobel is anything to go by, I’m sure this fight was child’s play. “Want to talk about it?”
Oscar puffs out his cheeks and shrugs. “It’s dumb.”
“It usually is.”
He glares. “Olivia was being a little shit and playing around all morning and she spilled chocolate milk on the dress Isobel had picked out for her. I hadn’t washed the backup dress and…
” He sighs. “All hell broke loose. She’s been different this time around, less sad and more…
angry. She has no patience, and with Freya hardly sleeping she gets frustrated really easily, and I guess it just was too much for me. ”
I frown. “You guys sorted it, though, right?”
My brother smirks. “We snuck off to the bathroom before we came and made up.”
I roll my eyes. “Trying to make baby number three?”
Oscar laughs. “Not quite—maybe someday, though.” He looks over at Bridget, then elbows my side. “How’re things with Biddy?”
I sigh. “We don’t fight.”
My brother looks up at me and frowns. “Do you want to fight?”
I shrug. “I mean, it’s healthy to fight, right? That’s what couples do, they fight and make up, and repeat the cycle every now and then.”
Oscar looks at me pensively. “Are you happy?”
“Yes.”
“But?”
I sigh. “I don’t think she is.”
Oscar knows I have more to say, which is why he stays silent while I try and find the words.
“When we got back from Nelson, she told me she loved me and that while this wasn’t how she pictured falling in love, she’s grieving the life she had planned out for herself, and I guess it’s opened my eyes.
It’s like I can finally see all the little tells she gives off when something is too much or if she is feeling overwhelmed.
” I nod over to where she’s standing with Patrick.
“You see how she’s pinching the skin near her elbow?
She does that when she feels overwhelmed or uncomfortable, and that smile?
That’s the fakest shit I’ve seen her pull. ”
“Have you spoken to her about it?”
I shake my head. “I’ve only just started to notice. I’ve been to busy enjoying it for what it is that I haven’t seen this isn’t how it should be for her. She deserves so much more.”
Oscar sighs. “I think it’s something you guys need to talk about. Maybe she’s feeling the same way, worrying about how you’re feeling and doesn’t know how to tell you? Maybe…maybe you guys just need to take a step back. It’s not too late, you know? To call off the wedding. Mom would understand.”
Mom is sitting on the couch, talking to Bridget’s sister with a happiness on her face, and the thought of that look leaving her face isn’t something I want to see.
From the corner of my eye, I see Bridget leave her conversation with Patrick and duck off toward the bathroom. The uneasy look on her face has me wanting to go after her.
“I’ll be right back,” I mumble as I begin to follow after her.
I wait outside the bathroom a few minutes before I knock on the door and announce my presence. “Hey, it’s me. Can I come in?”
I hear her take a deep breath. “It’s unlocked.”
I open the door and step inside.
Bridget is leaning against the corner with her head tilted back and hands on her hips. I close the door behind me and it’s then that she tilts her head down and I see her red rimmed eyes.
“Baby…” I breathe out and make my way over to her. “What’s going on?”
She shakes her head quickly and says tersely “Nothing, I’m okay.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t downplay your feelings to protect mine,” I say as I cup her jaw in my hands, resting my forehead against hers. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’m feeling a little overwhelmed,” she breathes out, her voice shaky. “It feels so real now and I’m freaking out. Your mom was telling me how excited she was for the wedding, and reminded me it’s only in a few weeks and…”
“It all got too much?” I answer for her, and she nods. “Do you want to go home?”
“No, your mom has put so much work into—”
“Bridget, do you want to go home, yes or no?”
She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “I’ll be fine.” Her hands rest on my waist and she leans forward presses her lips to mine. “Come on, let’s go spend time with everyone.”
I stay in the bathroom with her as she freshens up and as the two of us head back out to the party, I feel the most uneasy I’ve ever felt.
The rest of the party goes by in a blur, Bridget all smiles and warm embraces, but not me. I couldn’t get the sight of her in the bathroom out of my head, and the conversation we had at her place the day before has been playing in a loop in my head.
I feel like I’m grieving the life I thought I would’ve had—grieving the way I pictured falling in love and meeting the love of my life.
She wants more—more than what I’m giving her and she deserves the kind of love she imagined.
It feels like the rose-coloured glasses are off and I can finally see how…
wrong this is. This shouldn’t be how it is for us and I sure as hell shouldn’t be enabling this.
This whole thing has been because of me, for me.
How much of her happiness and wishes has she sacrificed in order to make me happy? How many times has she felt overwhelmed and I’ve had no clue? The thought alone makes me sick to my stomach. Oscar was right, we needed to talk and the sooner the better.
I turn my head to look at her from the driver’s seat and I find myself frowning.
She’s looking down at her hand, twisting her ring around her finger.
I watch as she takes a deep breath and reaches across and places her hand on my thigh and gives it a squeeze.
Bridget doesn’t look at me as she rubs her thumb over the fabric of my pants, and I see her relax in her seat at the contact.
When we arrive at my place, she follows me with her hand laced with my own, and I wait until we’re in my living room and she’s facing away from me until I speak.
“I don’t think we should do this.”
Her movements falter, but she turns to look at me with a confused frown. “What?”
I swallow my nerves, because it was a hell of a lot easier to say it when she wasn’t looking at me. “We shouldn’t do this anymore.”
Bridget pulls her bottom lip into her mouth as she frowns. “Elias, why—” Her voice cracks, “Why would you say that?”
I run my hand through my hair. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Since when?”
“Since now.”
“Bullshit.” Her laugh is watery. “Give me a reason.”
“Bridget…”
I take a step toward her and she takes a step back. “No, don’t Bridget me. I’m so fucking confused, because this is what you wanted and—” She takes a deep breath. “I’ve done all of this for you, Elias.”
“Well, I never asked you to.”
The look on her face has me regretting the words as soon as they leave my mouth.
“Yes, you did actually,” she scoffs. “Don’t gaslight me.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.” I tilt my head back. “I’m not trying to fight with you—”
“Are you sure?” Bridget snaps, cutting me off. “It feels like it to me.”
“You’re right, maybe I fucking am,” I retort.
She squeezes her eyes shut. “Why?” When her baby blues land on me, they’re filled with unshed tears, and I want to take back everything I’ve said.
“What’s brought this on? Is it because of what happened at your parent’s place?
Because I’m fine, I was just having a moment but I’m fine now—there’s nothing to worry about. ”
I walk toward her. but she holds out her hand. “No, don’t come near me,” she whispers, “Just tell me why you’re doing this—explain it to me.”
“Real couples fight, Bridget, this is what they do,” I say. “Doesn’t it feel weird to you that we’ve never fought? That all of this just fell into place and we haven’t even questioned it? You said yourself that this isn’t how you want it to be for you.”
“Is that what this is all about, what I said when I told you I love you? Elias, I said it doesn’t matter and that I’m happy. You are who I want. Am I not who you want? Is that it?” She looks tired and I hate it.
“No, that’s not it.”
“Then what is it?” she shouts in exasperation. “Do you not feel like we’re a real couple, Elias? What about the things we spoke about before we went to Nelson, and after, about how real this was and how much we love each other? Was that just bullshit?”
“I don’t know!” I throw my hands up. “I don’t know what it is, but this just doesn’t feel right.
You should have the fucking fairy tale, baby, and not some fucked-up situation that we’ve found ourselves stuck in.
I know you said you made peace with how shit’s turned out, but what if I haven’t?
What if you telling me all of that shit opened up this can of worms, and now I don’t even know if this is how I want it to be for me either.
Fuck, I don’t even know if this is what love should be, because right now it doesn’t feel like ours—it feels like someone else’s and we’re just along for the ride. ”
Her bottom lip wobbles. “Are you saying you’re not in love with me?”
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“No, no,” I backtrack. “That’s not what I’m saying, that’s—”
My feet move before I can stop them, and my heart lurches into my throat when she takes multiple steps back.
“No, I heard you perfectly clear.” I watch as she runs a hand down the front of her dress and straightens her back.
“I guess it’s my own fault, really, thinking that even though this isn’t how I wanted to do this, I would do it over and over again, if it meant I got to have you. ”
“Baby, I—”
“I need to go,” she whispers. “I’m sorry I can’t do this.”
“Please, don’t go. We can fix this.”
Bridget looks up at me with a look of disbelief. “Fix this? This is what you wanted, right? Us fighting? Well, congratulations, Elias, you got what you asked for. But now I need space, because maybe the only thing that doesn’t feel right is us.”
My feet feel like stone, and no matter how much I want to go after her, I can’t seem to find it in me to follow her out of my apartment. The door closes with a slam and a sigh. And like an idiot, I wait and pray that, maybe she’ll come back and we’ll fix it.
I wait for twenty minutes, standing in the middle of the living room when the realization that she’s not coming back hits me, and it’s only then do I move. The hallway is dark and as I reach to look the door, something catches the corner of my eye.
No.
The engagement ring I gave her sits on the console table next to my keys, looking so out of place that the ache in my chest deepens—and suddenly I can’t breathe.
Everything that could’ve gone wrong, went wrong…and I have no one to blame but myself.