Home>>read You're the One That I Want free online

You're the One That I Want(81)

By:Giovanna Fletcher


I played along with her joy, trying to ignore the panic stirring within me at the thought of losing Maddy, the girl I’d tried so hard not to love.

That Saturday night Alice and I were on our sofa watching The Jonathan Ross Show, tucking into an Indian takeaway – something we treated ourselves to more than we ought to. It was a bad habit that had lingered with us since our university days.

‘Do you ever think about the future?’ I asked, topping up our glasses of wine, of which we’d had quite a few – another bad habit that had carried over from student life.

‘In what way?’ she asked, mopping up some pilau rice that had escaped from her plate and fallen onto her lap.

‘I dunno, what you think it’ll be like?’

‘Well, when I was six we were asked to draw a picture of what we thought the millennium would look like – I drew some elaborate flying car and a robotic dog. My teacher said I was unrealistic but imaginative … I guess I’m still waiting for my flying car to be invented,’ she shrugged with a giggle.

‘Not like that. I mean, where do you see yourself in five or ten years’ time?’

‘Oh,’ she tutted, tapping her fork against the side of her plate as she thought of her answer. ‘Editor of my own glossy magazine, with my own office overlooking the river – a vast upgrade from the shambolic mess I currently work in …’

‘Nice,’ I encouraged, watching her forehead crease as she contemplated her future.

‘Living in a massive house with a swimming pool and a pink Ferrari on the swooping driveway.’

‘Pink? Not red?’

‘This is my vision, not yours. Am I being unrealistic again? Was my teacher right?’

‘Not at all,’ I laughed. ‘You can have your pink Ferrari.’

‘Good. I’ll also be married to some charming man, whoever he may be,’ she chuckled. ‘And mum to a few delightful sprogs.’

‘Sounds wonderful.’

‘Doesn’t it?’ she laughed. ‘You?’

‘Same,’ I nodded

‘Editor of a magazine?’

‘Obviously not, but the rest of it works.’

‘Marriage and kids? Most guys our age would run a mile at the very thought of it,’ she said, taken aback by the revelation as she raised her eyebrows.

‘Not me.’

As we sat there smiling at each other, over our chicken tikka masalas, the next words spurted from my mouth before I’d even had a chance to think them through properly.

‘Will you marry me?’

It wasn’t just me they’d surprised – Alice’s wide-eyed look told me that I’d completely caught her off guard too. Just like me, she hadn’t been expecting it.

We sat in silence, looking at each other with our mouths open in shock.

‘What did you say?’ she asked, her voice wavering with emotion.

‘I think I just asked you to marry me,’ I laughed nervously.

‘Did you mean it? There’s still time to take it back, if not.’

‘Do you want me to take it back?’

‘Not at all …’

We laughed then, broke down in giggles over the grown-up thing we were committing to.

‘So, will you? Will you be my wife?’

‘Of course I will. Yes!’ she beamed.

It was the most unromantic proposal in the world. Unplanned, unnecessary and done purely because I’d been scared of my own feelings. Petrified that I wasn’t over Maddy and aware of just how much it was going to hurt watching her walk down the aisle towards someone else. I was in need of having my own future secured to give myself a little piece of armour, so that I’d be okay when that day finally came. It was the most selfish thing I’d ever done.





Maddy





Twenty-four years old




It was Ben and Alice’s turn to head out our way that Sunday and, rather than stick to the High Road, we decided to go down to the Old Ship – a pub that sat on the river with great scenic views of the city. We’d found it the previous summer and loved spending our warm nights under the twinkling fairy lights which hung over their wooden benches. It was just as heaving in the winter months, but luckily we’d booked a table. The place was rammed with people who’d gone for walks along the river only to find themselves in need of warming up after being frozen by the bitterly cold December air – families fooled into not wearing enough layers of clothing by the bright blue skies.

Robert and I were sitting in our window seats, people-watching the walking ice-pops, when Ben and Alice arrived, both looking rather pleased with themselves as they fought their way through the other diners. Hugs, squeezes (not that sort) and kisses were shared before they whipped off their jackets and sat in their seats. The drinks hadn’t even been ordered by the time Alice leaned across, unable to contain her excitement any longer, and shrieked out their news.