“And little Jimmy finally passed his first swimming badge,” Amy’s aunt tells me, rolling her eyes. “Ten metres. Only took him two years. The child is deathly afraid of water.”
“That’s great, Mrs Smith,” I tell her, trying to pull away. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just—”
She waves me off. “Oh, don’t call me that. We’re all family here. Be a good boy and top up my drink, will you?”
I smile and take her glass, turning to the drinks table and swapping it out with a fresh flute of champagne. It’s been over half an hour since Amy’s aunt cornered me, and she’s been chatting my ear off ever since, bringing me up to speed on all the latest family gossip. I’m not sure if she actually remembers I’m not her nephew-in-law anymore, or if she legitimately doesn’t care and just wants someone to talk to. I hand her the new drink, then try for the fifth time to excuse myself.
“If you don’t mind, I need to find my date. She’s disappeared somewhere.”
She waves me off, eyeing up one of the waiters, and I make a quick escape, stepping away and scanning the hall.
It’s so odd to be here again. Everywhere I look, memories ping up in my mind. The venue clearly hasn’t updated its decorations in the last fifteen years. The cream vases of silk roses are the same. The swathes of gauze hanging from the ceilings. The rows of white chairs decorated with pink ribbons.
Even the wedding guests are the same. Everyone is over a decade older, but all of Amy’s family and friends are here. Most of the unmarried adults now have kids. The babies are moving into secondary school. There’s a vaguely familiar-looking teenager hanging around on her phone by the chocolate fountain, ignoring everyone, and I frown, trying to remember where I’ve seen her before. As I watch, she glances up at me, her eyes flickering, and recognition shocks through me.
It’s Lavender, my ex-niece. I remember her as a chubby little four-year-old, watching TV cuddled up against me, or holding my hand as I walked her home from school. She loved me, because I was the only adult who’d sit down and have tea parties with her stuffed animals. And I loved her, too. To pieces. I’d never been an uncle before.
I haven’t seen her in over ten years now.
The wedding hall suddenly flickers around me, déjà-vu rolling over me like a wave. For half a second, I’m an excited twenty-four-year-old on his wedding day, absolutely brimming over with happiness. Then the image fades, and I’m left standing alone in the crowd of celebrating people, laughing and dancing and chatting. Lavender looks at me awkwardly for a few seconds, then blushes and drops her eyes back to her phone.
Suddenly, it feels like my lungs are getting crushed.
Without thinking, I turn on my heel, weaving through the party and towards the ballroom’s big wooden doors. As I step out into the hotel lobby, my heart is pounding hard. Making my way over to the lifts, I lean against the wall, taking a few deep breaths.
I honestly didn’t expect that coming to the wedding would be so hard; but I also didn’t expect it to look like I’d stepped right back into my old wedding photographs. The last time I was here was the best night of my life. And now everything I worked so hard to achieve back then is gone.
It’s hard not to feel like I’ve lost something.
A hand touches my arm. I turn to see Amy looking up at me, her eyes wide. She must have followed me out here; she looks ridiculously out of place, standing in the atrium in her puffy white gown.
I force myself to smile at her. “Hi,” I say. “Congratulations. You look beautiful.”
She snorts and waves me off. “Re-wearing the dress was a bad idea. I can barely breathe in this thing. And I already gave up on my heels.” She lifts the hem of her dress, showing me the pair of Converse hidden underneath.
“Well. It’s a lovely party. Thank you for the invite.”
“Thanks for coming. Since your best friend is now my brother-in-law, I thought it would be best for us to show there’s no bad blood between us. Might make family events less awkward.”
I nod. “How’s Emery High?”
“Same old, same old. I’ve been thinking of switching schools. You can only be the principal of one place for so many years before it gets mind-numbing.”
I nod, and we both stand silently for a moment, looking out over the lobby.
“So,” she says eventually. “Layla Thompson.”
“Yes.”
“How did you two meet again?”
“She lives in my building. Moved into the flat opposite mine a few years ago.”
“Right. And you’ve been seeing her all that time?” The disapproval is clear in her voice.
I close my eyes. “Are you going to tell me off? Trust me, I was hesitant, but she insisted that enough time has passed that it’s not creepy or pathetic to be dating an ex-student.”
“That’s not my issue.” She purses her lips. She’s wearing her favourite dusky-pink lipstick; Tender Rose, I think it’s called. At our wedding, I had to reapply it for her five times, because I kept kissing it off.
I grimace at the memory. I don’t miss Amy. I honestly don’t. But I miss myself, back then. I miss how optimistic and happy I was. I miss how utterly sure I was that the relationship would work out.
I don’t think I’ve been sure about anything since the divorce. It killed that part of me.
“What do you remember about her from school?” Amy asks carefully.
“Not a lot. She was smart and quiet. It was the year our divorce papers were going through, so…” I trail off. “I wasn’t fully present in classes.”
“Hm.” Amy tugs on her earring. “But you like her, don’t you?”
“More than I ever expected to,” I admit.
“I thought so.” She sighs heavily. “Look. I don’t want to ruin your day, or anything. But I have to tell you something.”
The tone of her voice is scarily sombre. “Yes?” When she doesn’t respond, alarm bells start ringing. “Amy, what is it?”
“I saw her kissing Josh earlier,” she says. “Behind the roses. I thought you’d want to know.”
My shoulders ease, relief flooding through me. “I see.”
She stares at me. Clearly, she was expecting a more dramatic response. “That’s it?” She asks, incredulous. “I see?”
“Layla and I aren’t in a committed relationship. She can kiss who she likes.”
Amy looks at me like I’ve gone mad. “I… Luke, don’t take this the wrong way, but… are you okay? Do you think you need to talk to someone? A therapist, or something?”
I blink at her. “What? What do you mean?”
“Do you think maybe you’re a bit depressed?” She asks gently. “Because from where I’m standing, it sort of looks like you’re going through a midlife crisis.”
I frown. “I appreciate the concern, but this is the best my life has been in a long time. I’m not depressed in the slightest.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re almost forty years old, and you don’t have a wife. You don’t have kids. You don’t have a house. You share a flat with a couple of boys ten years younger than you—”
“Josh and Zack aren’t boys. They’re good men. And I don’t see why a ten-year age gap should stop me from being friends with someone.”
She looks at me like I’m an idiot. “You’re not just friends with them, Luke. You’re living in a flat with them like a student. And now you’re coming to my wedding with one of your ex-pupils on your arm.” She crosses her arms. “I’ve just told you that she’s spent the whole evening kissing my husband’s brother, and you didn’t even bat an eyelid!” I go to respond, and she cuts me off. “And it’s not just him, either. I saw her getting awfully close with Zack by the drinks table earlier. Zack Harding, Luke. A famous ex-rugby player. Do you seriously think you can compete with him in the eyes of a twenty-eight-year-old girl? Especially one like Layla Thompson?”
A bad feeling slips down the back of my throat. “What do you mean, ‘a girl like her’?”
She scowls. “You might not remember her from school, but I do. And everyone, students and staff, knew Layla Thompson to be a certain kind of girl.”
I close my eyes.
I’d assumed that Amy was unaware of Layla’s bullying in high school. I didn’t consider for a second that she might have known about it. “What does that mean?” I say carefully.
Amy sighs. “She was easy, Luke. I had girls in my office all the time, complaining that she’d stolen their boyfriends. She skipped between men almost daily, and there were plenty of rumours that she was exchanging… favours for money. She was generally considered to be the loosest girl in the school, and clearly, nothing has changed—”
“Amy,” I say sharply. “What is wrong with you?! Why would you talk about a student like that? Layla’s time in school was very difficult. We should’ve been helping her, and instead, we stood by and let her get bullied and cast out.”
Her lips quirk up. “So you do know. Let me guess. She told you it was all lies?”
I throw my hands up. “Whether they were lies or not, it’s completely inappropriate to judge an underage teenage girl on what she does in bed! She was a literal child, and you’re calling her loose?!”
She sighs. “I’m just saying that these things form patterns. If she was sleeping around then, she very well may be sleeping around now.” She presses her lips together, looking out over the lobby. “This has always been your issue. You can’t see what’s in front of you. You’re so caught up in your romantic little dream-world that you block out all of the warning signs.”
I frown. “I don’t know what you’re talking ab—”
“My parents begged me not to marry you,” she blurts out suddenly, shocking me into silence. “Begged me. My dad even promised to pay all the cancellation fees for the wedding. They knew I was making a mistake, and they were terrified it would haunt me for the rest of my life.”
I stare at her, my mouth drying out. “What? I thought your family liked me.”
“Oh, they liked you fine; you were a perfect gentleman. Kind and sweet and caring. But they liked you as a boyfriend, not a husband. They knew from the moment they saw us together that we weren’t going to work out long-term.” She looks down at her nails. “I never told you this, but the night before our wedding, I almost didn’t go through with it. I knew, deep down, that it was wrong.”
Her words hit me like a bucket of cold water to the face. For a few seconds, I flounder, speechless.
“Then why did you?” I manage eventually. “Go through with it?”
She shrugs. “I was young, and you were the sweetest guy I’d ever met. I thought I was in love with you.”
“But you weren’t,” I finish. My heart feels like it’s cracking in my rib cage.
“No. And I knew it the moment you put that ring on my finger, and I felt absolutely nothing. We were doomed before we even said our vows.”
I take a deep breath through my nose. My head is spinning. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
It was hard enough for me when our marriage fizzled out. I thought Amy and I were soulmates. I’d never even considered that we might fall apart.
But if what Amy’s telling me is true, maybe all of that love was one-sided. Was our relationship really all in my head? Am I really that stupid?
“Well,” I say finally, “for the record, I did love you. I never thought for a second that we wouldn’t make it.”
“I know you didn’t,” she says gently. “Because you see the world through rose-coloured glasses. But this isn’t a fairy tale. True love doesn’t conquer all. Open your eyes and actually look at your relationship, for once in your goddamn life.” She presses forward, her eyes hard. “Layla is young. She’s beautiful. She has a reputation, and judging by her behaviour tonight, absolutely nothing has changed. I don’t want to see you get hurt, Luke. And anyone can see that she won’t stay.”
I shake my head, trying to pull back. “I’m not listening to this—”
She grabs my arm. “Yes, you are. For God’s sake, I’m trying to help you!”
I try to shake her off, but she won’t let go.
