Chapter 47: The wedding Day II
Dad came back and the music mellowed to a slow dance. I knew I had to get away or Nora was going to send people to drag me to the dancefloor.
“I need some fresh air,” I said, standing up. “This is code for you two to get there and show them how it’s done.”
“My clever girl,” dad said, kissing my cheek before extending his hand toward my mom.
I skulked away, stopping in the doorway to look at them. My fond smile faltered when I saw Fred dance with his ex-wife.
I wasn’t jealous of Mia. I was mad at her. Nora never said it outright, but she believed that her mother had been the one to want the divorce. I was mad at Mia for hurting Fred. A flood of self-loathing rose up inside me. I had taken advantage of his unhappiness to satisfy my creepy obsession with him.
On the terrace, I took off my sandals, and scampered toward the ocean. I stopped when I reached the wet sand. I wanted to feel the waves lapping at my ankles, but I didn’t want to ruin the dress.
As always, the beach was teaming with people. Thanks to the free-flowing alcohol and the whole wedding thing, the atmosphere was buzzing with hormones. There were people walking hand in hand and others making out on beach beds. I didn’t feel like being close to any horny couple, so I walked back toward the restaurant. I ended up sitting on the edge of the terrace, in the only corner where the light didn’t reach, either from the beach or from the hotel.
The sound of the waves usually helped me clear my mind. Unfortunately, the music covered the relaxing noise. I closed my eyes and tried to meditate anyway.
“May I join you?”
I started at the sound of Fred’s voice. The dance music had also covered up the sound of his footsteps. For a split second, I wondered if he was real or just my imagination. I looked up from my dark corner to the man bathed in the bright light from the party. He looked so grim. He had to be real.
“Were you waiting for someone else?”
I shook my head. “I just didn’t expect you to…”
“Follow you?”
“Fred…”
“Should I leave?”
Instinctively, I reached out and grabbed his hand.
“Don’t go.”
He sat down next to me, in the dark corner. The heat of his body so close to mine messed with my concentration. I missed seeing his face.
“Are you angry with me?”
The question surprised me. “For what?”
“For not calling you.”
“You never said you would.”
It was a clumsy dodge. I didn’t want to admit that I had been expecting him to call. What good would it do to tell him that his silence hurt?
He was so close. I took in a deep breath. The scent of him mingled with the salty sea air in a heady fragrance. I wanted to smell it straight off his skin. His warm, delicious skin.
He broke the silence.
“I wanted to. Many times. But even more, I wished you’d call me… so I could have what I wanted with a clear conscience.”
Something like anger crackled in his voice. Frustration, shame and guilt entwined themselves into a dark emotion, a fury directed inwards. I recognized it as if looking in a mirror. Like me, he wished he could be stronger than the desire. If I was stronger, I would defuse this bomb.
“What did you want?” I asked, instead of all the things that would dispel the tension.
“You. I wanted you.”
Everyone we knew was there, on the island. My parents. Nora. People he worked with. People Nora and I went to school with. He set my world on fire with three whispered words.
“I still do.”
“Fred-”
“Don’t say anything,” he interrupted me. “We have to go back inside.”
“We have to?”
“Nora asked me to look after you,” he said.
“What?”
“She told me a couple of weeks ago. She was worried about you. She thought you might hide in a corner and not have any fun.”
“I didn’t hide,” I said. “I needed some air.”
“She made me promise to dance with you.”
Dancing with Fred on the beach. I remembered where that led.
“At least one dance,” he said. “Please.”
One dance. I could do that.
“Well, far be it from me to make you break a promise.”
I tried to compose myself as best I could. I felt like I was going to crumble in a million pieces when he put his hand on the small of my back.
“I feel like everyone is staring at us,” I said.
“They’re probably not.”
“Probably?”
“I may not be the most objective observer right now.”
When the dance was over, Mitchell showed up. I read the annoyance in Fred’s body language. I hoped that Mitchell would miss it or misread it.
After Mitchell, I didn’t get a chance to leave the dancefloor for a dozen dances in a row. Nora looked at me approvingly and I endeavored to smile back, but all I wanted was to crawl back to the dark corner of the terrace.
From time to time, I caught Fred’s gaze. He didn’t seem happy to see me dancing with other men, but he stayed away. At some point in the night, he disappeared altogether. My first thought was to check if Melanie was there. I breathed a little easier to see that she was.
After a while, I managed to get off the dancefloor and spend some time with my parents. We talked about their upcoming visit in France. I had made arrangements for the three of us to spend Christmas and New Year’s together and I was sure it was going to be magical.
Late into the night, when the party ended, I stayed behind to thank with the hotel staff and the catering crew for the wonderful job they did. I wanted to make sure they wouldn’t bother Nora on her honeymoon, so I left them my phone number.
It was nearly 4am when I got to my room. My plane left around noon, and I desperately wanted to sleep.
The curtains swaying in the breeze were creating moving shapes on the ceiling. I lied in bed, still wearing my maid of honor dress, staring up at the dancing shadows.
The phone vibrated and the standard ring tone seemed deafening in the perfect silence. Only the catering or the hotel staff could call me at such an unreasonable hour.
“Hello,” I answered without looking at the caller ID.
“Were you asleep?”
My breath caught in my throat. Fred.
“No. Are you ok? What happened?”
“How do you feel about a walk on the beach?”
Now? I didn’t have to ask. Now was what we always had.
“Meet you there?”
“I’m in the car. I’ll be in front of the hotel in ten minutes.”