You're the One That I Want(87)

She froze.

She sat there, staring at the magazine as though she was trapped in its world of pretty dresses, blossoming flowers and a forever love, the world I’d promised her months before, but was snatching away from her so abruptly.

‘Did you hear me?’ It was a stupid question. I knew she’d heard. I just wanted to fill the silence, to get the agonizing moment over with, to stop it from lingering any longer than necessary. ‘I don’t want to get married.’

A wave of heat worked its way up my back and to my cheeks, burning them as I waited for her to react.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked quietly, her eyes still on the page in front of her.

‘What I said,’ I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay strong. ‘I don’t want to get married.’

‘Do you not like the church?’ she asked feebly, her voice thin and panicked. ‘Because we can change that. Or if it’s the cost, we can invite fewer people. I don’t mind doing that. It doesn’t have to be anything big, as long as it’s you and m –’

‘It’s nothing to do with any of that,’ I said firmly and quickly, stopping her from coming up with more petty reasons for my sudden change of heart. Hating myself, I repeated the words – as though she hadn’t heard it enough times already. ‘I just don’t want to get married.’

Slowly she closed the magazine, its pages fanning noisily in protest as their offerings were sent into darkness, banished from our lives and from the perished Gilbert/Turner wedding. Her hands moved to cover the face of the glowing bride on its cover, as though her gloating happiness mocked Alice in her misery.

‘Then why did you ask me?’

‘Because I thought I did. Then.’

Her tiny frame seemed smaller and more fragile than ever as I watched my words smash away at her heart.

‘What’s changed?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Tell me,’ she said, looking up, her glistening eyes boring into mine as tears made their escape, rolling down her cheeks. ‘What have I done since then to make you think otherwise?’

‘Nothing.’

‘I must’ve done something.’

‘You haven’t.’

‘Is it just marriage you’re suddenly opposed to? Or is it a lifetime with me?’

‘It’s not like that.’

‘But you don’t want to be with me.’

It wasn’t a question – it was a statement. I faltered at hearing her say it out loud. It sounded so cold, so final. For a moment I wanted to take it back, to retrieve what had been said, but I couldn’t. I knew, whether I told her then or at the altar, I wouldn’t be marrying Alice Turner. My heart wouldn’t let me marry into a lie that I’d let fester for long enough already.

‘Alice, I think the world of you. I love you.’

‘Don’t say that. Please, Ben, don’t you dare say that.’

‘But I do. It’s true. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.’

‘Except marry me,’ she jeered sadly, raising her eyebrows, defying me to contest her words. ‘Or be with me.’

‘Alice …’

‘Is there someone else?’ she asked curtly, cutting me off.

‘Of course not.’

‘You sure? There’s not some girl who’s caught your attention at work? Made you think twice about being stuck with me?’

‘No.’

‘Then why don’t you want to marry me? If there’s no one else and you love me, why don’t you want to be with me any more?’

‘Because it’s not what I want.’

‘And what do you want?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Why are you doing this to me?’ she screamed, furious with my lack of substantial responses. She hurled the mocking magazine at me, the corner of its bind catching me on my forehead, cutting it and making it bleed.

‘I’m so sorry, Alice,’ I shouted back.

‘Sorry you ever asked?’

‘No.’

‘Then what for?’

‘For hurting you. I never wanted to do that.’

‘You saying that doesn’t make it any less cruel,’ she spat. ‘You’re still breaking my heart and making me look like a complete fool.’

I hated that I’d turned the most happy, bubbly and loving girl I’d ever met into such a ball of anger – it was yet another failure to add to my ever-growing list of mistakes.

Robert was the only one who’d known that I was calling my wedding off and ending things with Alice. I’d phoned him the morning I planned to do it.

I’d been in our bedroom, surrounded by her things and pictures of us together with giddy faces on various holidays, funny trips and that picture, when I’d had an overwhelming urge to leave – to just walk out and avoid the confrontation as I broke her heart. The desire was so strong I knew I had no choice but to talk to her that night. Something had snapped inside me and I was worried that if I didn’t act quickly my longing simply to flee would become a reality. I didn’t want that.