The Wedding Game

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE CHRIS

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Chris

‘This is my second time here,’ Lexie tells me as I lead her round the Plaza at the Rockefeller Center, past the tall flags and lit-up trees and down towards the ice rink.

My smile slips from my face. ‘You’ve been here already?’

‘Yep. It’s the Rockefeller Center. It’s like … item number two on the New York tourist bucket-list. I came and looked at the Christmas tree, ate a hot dog from a vendor, bought a coffee and then wandered around a bit. But I’m happy to be here again,’ she tells me quickly.

I think my face is still showing my disappointment and I adjust it accordingly.

‘So you’ve not been ice-skating?’ I query, pointing to the rink.

‘Ohhh, no, I don’t like ice-skating,’ she replies.

‘Oh,’ I say flatly. ‘Right.’

‘Is that what you had planned?’ she asks tentatively.

‘No-o-o,’ I draw out the word. ‘I did not have that planned. At all.’

‘You did, didn’t you? Have you got tickets?’

‘No,’ I say. ‘But hang on a second and I’ll tell you what we’re really doing. Once I check the FAQs on the website and see if I can get a refund for these tickets I absolutely did not buy.’

‘Oh, Chris! OK, forget I said it. We’re going ice-skating. Come on.’

‘Not if you hate it!’

‘I didn’t say “hate”,’ she points out quickly. ‘“Hate” is too strong a word.’

‘I should have checked with you first. I thought it would be …’

‘What?’ she queries.

‘I thought it would be nice,’ I say simply and then I shrug. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise. We’re going ice-skating. Come on.’ She grabs my hand and even though I’m sure it was an innocent reflex, it does things to me that it shouldn’t. I look at our gloved hands entwined together and allow myself to be dragged in the direction of the rink entrance.

‘Why is it you don’t like ice-skating?’ I ask moments later as we’re lacing ourselves into our skating boots. It’s so cold there’s steam mingling together from our breath.

‘I’m lying. I love it,’ Lexie deadpans, giving me a wide grin.

I make a doubtful face.

‘It’s just stressful and painful, isn’t it? One of us is going to fall over. It’s cold. It looks all romantic in films, but the reality is that you could quite easily break something or lose a finger if you fall over, and then someone runs over your hand with their skate and whomp! … finger gone.’

‘Whomp?’ I query.

‘I couldn’t think of a better noise.’

I chuckle. ‘Well,’ I say as we walk on our blades towards the ice, ‘no one is falling over, because I’m pretty good at this, so I’ll hold you up or you can just … hug the edge or something.’

Lexie gives me a glacial look as we enter the arena, the ice beneath us immediately unsettling her, and she breathes quickly. I hold onto her by her elbow and watch her try to smile, while also trying not to grit her teeth in discomfort. It’s quite an art. Her white wool beanie is slipping down a bit over her eyebrows, but she’s making no move to push it back up. She’s wearing a matching white faux-fur jacket over skin-tight jeans. She looks beautiful.

I knew this was a bad idea. But guilt at purposefully ignoring her for the last two weeks has taken hold of me. I feel a bit shit about it, but I’ve had to do my absolute best to stay the hell away from her. Other than a few slip-ups at the coffee machine, when I haven’t been able to help myself, walking over there and engaging her in conversation: a little hit of Lexie in addition to the caffeine. Apart from that, it’s been two weeks of making sure that whenever we’re together, we’re with other people. Which means I can’t do, or say, anything now that will get me into trouble.

She didn’t mention again my initial suggestion that I take her out most nights. Why, Chris, did you think that was a good idea? The news that she’s with Josh came as a shock. At the wedding she hooked up with Josh minutes after my taxi pulled away. I still don’t know what to do with that information.

Everything about that night we met felt so … real . And then, minutes later, she …? I can’t work it out. But I know I’m right about Lexie not liking me as much as I’d liked her. It took me longer than it should have done to realise that, but I got there in the end.

Mainly because she told me to fuck off.

OK, so she didn’t say that, but I was fobbed off in a very polite way that made me pay attention. I made her feel uncomfortable with that I can’t stop thinking about you text. And then Lexie used the other F-word: friend. Now I’m here, ice-skating with her and torturing myself. Thank God I started dating again and have stopped pining after this woman, who is categorically not interested in me. I don’t know what I thought spending time with her tonight was going to achieve. I felt guilty about ignoring Lexie, although she probably didn’t even notice or care. I am a level-one idiot.

She’s halfway through saying something and I’ve missed some of it. ‘I wish I wasn’t wearing really tight jeans,’ she continues. ‘Because if my legs decide to go in different directions, I’m ripping these babies in half.’

I laugh, then my eyes inappropriately drop to the area she’s talking about and I have to force myself to pull my gaze back up to her face.

‘You’re not bad at this,’ I lie. ‘For someone who hates it so much.’ I notice she’s clutching my arm tightly to try and help herself stay upright. Our upper halves must look like a tangle of arms.

‘I’m concentrating,’ she confesses. ‘Can you push my hat up for me? I can’t see, and I’m scared to reach up.’

‘Oh, sure,’ I say and move in front of her, fixing her beanie into place. We’re near the edge of the rink and, with the twinkling lights shining off her dark eyes, I’m having to seriously resist the urge to kiss her. Instead I ask, ‘You having fun?’

‘Yeah. So much fun,’ she says darkly.

I chuckle. ‘Do you want to forget this and go get some drinks?’

‘No-o-o.’ She elongates the word. ‘Let’s stay to the end. Ice-skating’s not as bad as I remember. How long is the session booked for?’

‘An hour.’

‘Oh, fuck that! Drinks, please.’

I lead her towards the entrance to the rink and we make our way off.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she says as we hand back our skates and head towards the wooden ski-chalet-style buildings where food and drinks stalls have been set up.

‘You don’t need to apologise,’ I reply. ‘It was funny. Your response was not at all what I was expecting.’

We buy eggnog from a vendor, at Lexie’s insistence, and instead of sitting, we wander around, stopping to watch the other ice-skaters.

‘This is much nicer,’ she tells me, as the buzz of people and the din of early festive enjoyment swirls around us.

‘Cheers!’ I lift my disposable cup and she knocks hers against mine as we watch skaters whizz around. ‘Well done for getting the job.’

‘Well done for making a cool fifteen hundred dollars,’ she counters.

‘Ha, yeah. Don’t quit now – I won’t get it otherwise. I’m sad you’re going home, by the way.’

‘Are you?’ she asks doubtfully. ‘I’ve not seen all that much of you.’

Yeah, there’s a reason for that , I think. Instead I say, ‘I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit preoccupied in the evenings, but our office chats have been nice.’ What an insipid thing to say.

‘How’s it going with your new woman?’ she probes.

I look away. ‘Yeah, it’s OK …’ Although my answer sounds vague, it’s not meant to. I follow it up with, ‘You can never really tell, can you?’

‘What do you mean?’ she asks.

I look back at her. ‘You think it’s going well and then, bam! – they dump you, and it’s … shock and awe. Like a Michael Bay film, explosions going off everywhere for no reason whatsoever.’

Lexie issues a short, sharp chuckle.

‘You’d probably see it coming, right?’ she offers. ‘If it wasn’t going well, one of you would see it. One of you would say something. Although, in fairness, I didn’t see it coming the last time I got cheated on and then dumped,’ she goes on, gazing into the distance while she thinks about this.

‘Thanks for those words of encouragement,’ I joke. On the far side of the rink, a man whizzes backwards at speed. We watch him spin and turn like an Olympian.

‘How do they do that?’ Lexie mutters.

‘Skills. So, it’s going well with Josh then?’ I ask and I realise there was no sleek transition whatsoever into that question and it didn’t sound as casual out loud as it had done in my head.

‘It is. I really like him,’ she replies bashfully.

‘Good,’ I say and I’m struck for a moment by how awkward this is.

‘I’m having a nice time,’ Lexie comments, obviously wanting to change the subject. She looks as if she means it. ‘Ice-skating notwithstanding. I’ve loved it here. I can’t believe how quickly two weeks have flown.’

‘Likewise,’ I reply and sip my eggnog, which is violently sweet. ‘You haven’t had the urge to move here then?’ I test. ‘New York hasn’t worked its charms on you?’

‘Afraid not. I do love it, though. I am a city girl at heart, remember. My love for London knows no bounds. But I’d miss my friends and my family too much to relocate.’

‘How’s being wedded to the city going to work, with Josh in the country then?’ I ask.

‘OK, I think. I practically moved in with him for a few weeks and it worked perfectly fine.’ I see Lexie narrow her eyes after she says this and I wonder how true this comment is.

I feel my mouth drop open and then close again. ‘You moved in with him? Already?’

‘It was more of a little holiday,’ she back-pedals.

I don’t say anything, and we stare at the skaters.

‘Anyway I miss Josh and Scarlet and my family. Two weeks is a long time to be away from home.’

‘I’ve done it for quite a bit longer than that,’ I say absently.

‘And you don’t feel that pull back to the UK?’

‘Sometimes. Not often, though,’ I muse. ‘I came here for the job, and the lifestyle, and I love both.’

‘Fair enough,’ she responds uncertainly.

I breathe in, breathe out. I feel the conversation coming to a close.

‘OK, she says, turning to me. ‘Big Talk round … whatever round we’re on.’

I give her an indulgent smile as I ask, ‘Weren’t we just doing that?’

‘Shh,’ she says. ‘This is official Big Talk now. What would it take to get you to live back in the UK?’

I pause and think. ‘I have no idea. Something … big.’

‘How big?’

‘Family illness or something dreadful.’

‘Oh God,’ she replies quickly. ‘OK, never mind. Let’s skip past that. What would it take for you to live in New York for ever ?’

‘For ever?’ I ask, glancing around me slowly, taking it all in. It’s great. It’s wonderful. It’s cinematic and I’m working on building my career here, but, ‘I don’t think I’ll live here for ever.’

‘What if you and this Tinder swipe—’

‘Uh … excuse me. It wasn’t Tinder,’ I cut in and give her a playful shove.

She’s dismissive. ‘So you say.’

‘Ha!’ slips from my lips.

‘What if you and this swipe are for ever …’ she comes in with again. ‘Really for ever. Would you live here?’

I blow air out of my cheeks. ‘If we’re for ever, then … I guess so, yeah.’

‘Even if you didn’t want to live here for ever?’

I think about it, but not for as long as I’d think about it if this was actually happening. ‘Yeah.’

‘That simple?’

‘It is, isn’t it? Love is simple. It’s complicated and messy and all of that too, but really it’s simple. If you’re ready … you either make it work, come what may, or you don’t.’

‘If you’re ready?’ she asks.

‘Sometimes it’s the right person, wrong circumstances. Sometimes it all falls into line.’ I think about what I’ve just said. I was trying to be philosophical, but really: what is love? It’s two people who are right for each other finding each other at the right time. It’s magic, it’s complicated alchemy, but also … it’s one of the simplest things in the world.

I look away from the skaters and watch Lexie’s reaction thoughtfully, as her eyes follow two children being held up artfully by their mum and dad. She won’t turn her head to look at me, even though she must see out of the corner of her eye that I’m giving her my full attention. And then her phone rings and lights up. ‘Josh’ is displayed on the screen. Lexie swipes to answer quickly, commenting how sweet Josh is to ring when it’s so late for him, telling him she’s at the Rockefeller Center. I hear him make enthusiastic remarks in the background and so I discreetly move away, pulling out my own phone and tapping away on it for a moment. I pocket it again and glance at Lexie as she talks to Josh, telling him she’ll call him tomorrow when she’s on her way to the airport. She tells him she misses him, that she can’t wait to see him again, then says goodbye and hangs up.

All of that was more painful to hear than I thought it would be. I need to get out of here. How do I extricate myself from her without leaving her stranded? Although she’s been getting on well enough by herself these past two weeks, so in theory I could.

‘Do you want to go over to the chalets again and get something to eat?’ she asks. ‘I’m starving.’

‘Sure,’ I say.

As we tuck into our burgers at bench tables, we talk about what she’s going to be doing for Max when she gets back home, how we’re each going to be spending the upcoming weekend (sleeping off jet lag for her, dinner and a movie with Kayla for me) and what new adventures lie on the horizon for us both.

‘Even though I’m potless,’ Lexie starts, ‘my upcoming jaunts include a wedding in the new year and a spa day with Scarlet, which I won via wedding bingo.’

‘Sounds great,’ I enthuse. And then I chuckle to myself, ‘Wedding bingo.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ she says. ‘Don’t harp on about it.’

I’m quiet and then I surprise both of us by saying, ‘Wedding bingo is ridiculous, but it’s not as extreme as getting on a plane with someone you’ve only just met.’

Lexie looks at me from under her lashes. She’s incredibly still.

I get brave. ‘Do you ever think: thank God I dodged that bullet?’

‘No … I don’t,’ she replies as I watch her carefully.

Neither of us speaks and then slowly she forms a sentence. ‘On reflection, I do think this fortnight has given me a good idea as to what it might have been like, if I had.’

I frown. ‘What New York is like, or what being with me would be like?’ I can’t believe I just asked that.

‘Chris,’ she says lightly, but it sounds like more of a warning, an emotional reprimand, than an invitation to go down this path. ‘I’ve wondered,’ she admits slowly. Of course I’ve wondered what it would have been like if I’d come with you. How could I not?’

You mean you wondered all the way back to Josh, and then kissed him? I think, but don’t say.

‘ I wondered,’ I tell her, giving her my full attention because even though nothing good can come of it, I’ve hung on for so long I’m practically exploding to say it. ‘I wondered on that flight home what it would be like. I kept looking at the guy who was seated next to me and thinking, “That could have been Lexie.” Then he fell asleep on my shoulder and that’s when I definitely wished it was you.’

She has the grace to smile and gives a tiny laugh.

‘I got back to my apartment,’ I continue, ‘and envisaged showing you to my room while I slept on the sofa, or maybe not sleeping on the sofa. I thought about where we’d go for brunch, dinner. I thought about continuing Big Talk and oh … I dunno.’

‘You actually thought about sleeping on the sofa?’ she asks doubtfully.

I shrug, but my eyes don’t leave hers. ‘Asking you to come with me to New York was the most romantic gesture I’ve ever made.’

‘You’re dodging the question.’

I laugh, glance down, glance back up again. What will happen if I say all the things I can’t stop thinking about?

Her mouth opens a fraction. I can’t help looking at her mouth. Christ, I really want to kiss her. Right here. Right now.

I force myself not to. I force myself to keep talking. ‘It’s not the Victorian era,’ I point out, my eyes on her lips as they remain slightly parted. I need to look away, so I plant my gaze on her brown eyes. They’re the same colour as mine and yet they look so different, so distinctive, so much … more.

‘Would you have kissed me?’ she asks in wonder.

This conversation is so dangerous. I can’t stop. ‘Yeah, I’d have kissed you – at some point on our journey to the airport and most of the long flight. If you’d have let me.’

‘I’d have let you,’ she says so quickly that she looks surprised at herself.

I swallow. ‘And then …’

‘And then?’ she echoes.

‘We’d have seen how we felt, discovered what felt natural between us together.’

A breath escapes her lips.

Lexie is not going to stop me continuing this ‘what if’ moment. But other than being explicit, we’ve probably taken it as far as we can. It’s certainly further than we should have taken it. ‘Perhaps sleeping together on the first date probably wouldn’t have been a good idea,’ I volunteer softly.

‘Perhaps not,’ she agrees.

OK, I’ve said everything I wanted to say. Almost everything. I can move on with my life now.

Lexie’s quiet. For a second I think she’s watching the ice-skaters and then I realise she’s not. She’s staring through them. Her gaze doesn’t move.

‘I watched your taxi drive away,’ she starts slowly. ‘And I did think it was a mistake that I didn’t come with you,’ she confesses. ‘But I couldn’t afford to.’

Her voice is soft, and I’m hanging on every word.

‘But that was then. And so many wonderful things have happened since – new boyfriend, this job – that it’s hard to feel remorse about what might have been between us, because it would have taken events – my life – in a completely different direction. And now …?’ she holds her hands out, gesturing openly at nothing in particular, ‘It’s not helpful going down the path of regret.’

Regret. ‘Hang on,’ I say, circling back. ‘You couldn’t afford it?’

She gives the slightest little shake of her head and looks confused that I’ve picked up on this, of all things. But of all the comments she’s made, this is what’s hit home the hardest, because this is what decided which way that night went.

‘Is that …?’ I trail off as I’m not sure I want to know the answer to this question. But I’m asking it anyway. ‘Is that the only reason you didn’t come with me?’

She nods. ‘Pretty much. I’d just had my credit card declined over two drinks, I’m ashamed to say. Those two champagnes I disappeared for ages to get?’

I nod.

‘Josh bought those.’

My eyes widen. ‘ Josh bought our drinks?’

‘He was at the bar when I was suffering financial humiliation. Right place, right time.’

‘Wow! OK. I was going to pay for your flight, you know,’ I add – pointlessly now, I realise. I’m three months too late to tell her this.

‘Were you?’ she asks, her eyes rounding in disbelief.

‘Yeah, of course.’

‘There’s no of course about it,’ she says.

‘I felt so strongly that inviting you was the right thing to do, that you coming with me would have been the most perfect thing,’ I go on. ‘That feeling simply took over. I was ready to dig into my savings account and book the flight on my phone right there and then. I wish I’d made that fact clearer at the time.’

She’s watching me as if she wants me to say more, or less. I have no clue which. There’s a huge look of regret on Lexie’s face – one she promised only moments ago she wasn’t going to feel.

Two things could happen right now. I could kiss her. I think she’d let me. I think she’d kiss me back. Then I’d be that shit guy who got her to cheat on her boyfriend. I’m not that shit. I’m not the man who does that. And this isn’t the way to start something with Lexie. Nothing good comes of relationships that start with cheating.

The other thing I can do is shut this down. I dig deep. This is the way to end it. ‘I was only going to buy you a one-way ticket, though,’ I surprise her by saying.

‘One-way?’ she asks in a shocked voice, and then her face changes when she senses I’m joking and she gives me a shove.

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘If you wanted to ditch me the minute you arrived and scarper back to London, that was all on you.’

‘Hey,’ she replies. I can see by her face that she’s struggling to work out what just happened here. The conversation was deep, revelatory, but now it’s over.

I need to go. I need to say goodbye. Again. Now . Before anyone gets hurt. ‘I’ve had a nice night,’ I tell her. I’m not going to make a pointless face-saving joke about Lexie’s ice-skating, and neither does she. ‘I can take you back to your hotel?’ I offer.

She looks confused that this is all ending so abruptly and shakes her head. ‘Er, no, thanks. I’ve got it from here. I’ll be OK.’

‘I guess this is it then,’ I say. ‘Unless Max flies you back out again soon.’ I can’t believe I’m relying on small talk here.

‘Um.’ Lexie looks so confused. ‘Unlikely. He’s made it abundantly clear I’m flying solo for a good while until he comes over to catch up with progress. So …’

‘So,’ I say. If I don’t hug her it will seem weird, so I wrap my arms around her. It lasts longer than it should, and I don’t know if that’s because of me or because of her. I only know it’s lovely: being here, with Lexie and holding her like this. And it really needs not to be. I need to move away, and so does she. Only we don’t move … until I make the first attempt to break free. My hands leave her back and I miss the feel of her already as the space between us widens. ‘Goodnight, Lexie. Safe flight.’

She tries to speak and can’t, simply stares at me with a look in her eyes I can’t place. She swallows and starts again. ‘Goodnight, Chris.’

We stand for a second. There’s so much risk. I can’t do this. I just say bye, and so does she.

And then I leave.