Almost a Bride

by Jo Watson

  “Annie, please don’t cry…”

  “Why? Isn’t my character supposed to be a crier? Aren’t we all supposed to laugh at her expense because she’s miserable, pathetic, and crying again?”

  “Annie…” Chris started moving toward me and I blocked him.

  “Don’t you dare come any closer.” I tried to wipe my tears away. Yes, I was sad. But I wasn’t crying simply because I felt sad. My tears were filled with anger, disappointment, and humiliation. I was more humiliated now than I had been when I’d found my boyfriend fucking someone else.

  “Was any of it real? Or was it all a big joke to you? Just material for your next script?”

  I sat down on the chair; I felt dizzy now.

  “It was real.” Chris started to approach again cautiously. “That’s why I’m not going to use it.” He pulled the other chair out and sat opposite me. “Annie, I’m in love with you. It’s true. And when I saw you walking down the aisle toward me, I wished that it was real…”

  “Again, how do you expect me to believe anything that comes out of your mouth, Chris?”

  “But can’t you see how I feel? Didn’t you feel it last night when we made love? I love you…” His voice sounded desperate now, and even if he was telling the truth, he’d hurt me too deeply.

  This was beyond forgivable.

  He’d used me. He’d lied to me. He’d betrayed me.

  I buried my face in my hands, and I felt his arm come up and touch me on the shoulder. I flinched. His touch felt disgusting now.

  “I love you, Annie, please. I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry…” And then he jumped up and opened the computer. “Look, I’m going to delete the whole thing.” He pressed some buttons and held the thing up. “See?”

  WORD COUNT 0

  But it was too late. The mere fact that’s he’d written it in the first place was enough. That he’d written it behind my back, while I was asleep. Secretive. Manipulative. Devious.

  “You know, when I saw Trevv and Tess in bed together, I didn’t think I would ever feel anything as painful for the rest of my life. But this…this is worse.”

  I got up and started walking toward the door.

  “What can I do to make it better, Annie? Tell me. I’ll do anything.”

  I turned and looked at him one last time. He was still gorgeous. Sexy as hell. For a moment I’d been happy with him, happier than I’d ever been. For a moment I’d let myself think of him as my husband. Pictures of a house and kids had even flashed through my mind. We’d made love—it had been amazing. The best ever.

  It had all been perfect. Too perfect. Because it hadn’t been real. Not for him anyway. It was all a brilliant act.

  “Nothing, Chris. You lied to me. This whole time you were going behind my back and lying while you wrote that script. You just did exactly what Trevv did to me, and exactly what your dad did to your mother.”

  His face went pale.

  “Good-bye.”

  He ran toward me and grabbed me by the arm. “Please don’t go. I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” I looked up at him and could see tears starting to form in his eyes. I shook his arm free.

  “Good-bye.”

  And then I walked out the door.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  I must have gone over it with my friends a million times, from a million different angles. They of course were fuming by this stage and had to be physically held back by Damien, for fear they might run to Chris’s room and maim him permanently.

  Why had he done it?

  Did he feel anything for me?

  Was it all fake?

  Was some of it real?

  Was he really not going to use it?

  Should I forgive him?

  Had I overreacted?

  But no matter how many times we discussed it, went over it, dissected it…the result was always the same.

  I had never felt more betrayed by a person—ever.

  But Damien had a different perspective. “If he’s deleted it, and he’s not going to use it, it means he knows he made a mistake, and if you really love him, you’ll forgive him.”

  “Keep your mouth closed, Damien!” Lilly snapped. I don’t think I had ever heard her speak to him like that. “We don’t need man logic at a time like this!”

  “I’m just saying that guys make mistakes sometimes. I mean, I let Lilly walk away from me once. That was a huge mistake.”

  “That is so not the same,” Lilly said.

  “Fine.” Damien started inching toward the other room. “I’ll just…I’ll just go and do something…do something somewhere far away.”

  “Do you think he really deleted it?” I managed in between sobs.

  Jane shrugged. “Does it matter? The fact that he wrote it is enough.”

  She was right, of course. But I still wanted to know if it was really gone. That he’d deleted it and that in two years I wouldn’t be seeing my painful story made into a total joke on the silver screen. Maybe he would even get Megan Fox to play Tess, since he found her so fucking good-looking. But it was hard to think because—

  “Annie, please, please let me in…” Knock, knock.

  Knock, knock. “Annie, come on, let me just talk to you.”

  “Annie, phone my producer, talk to him. I swear I wasn’t going to use it.” Knock, knock.

  “Annie, I love you…”

  It went on all afternoon. Damien was getting irritated and fed up with having to go to the door and explain to him that No, I was not coming out. No, I did not want to talk to him.

  “F OFF!” Lilly finally screamed. “Annie never wants to see you again. And neither do we!”

  That seemed to stop the knocking.

  I think it was at about three that morning, while staring at the ceiling and surrounded by a pile of snotty, tear-drenched tissues, that I finally got my first bolt of brilliant, blazing insight.

  You know, the kind of insight that hits you after the fact and in retrospect. In a weird way, it was the image of the Annie that Chris had depicted in his screenplay that pushed me to reach this insight more than anything else. Thinking of that sad, pathetic shadow of a girl still clearly haunted by her heartbreak and driven by crazed jealousy to wreak revenge.

  My epiphany went a little something like this: Despite it being nearly a year since Nipple-Gate, I still hadn’t moved on. In fact, I was completely stuck in a rut. I had absolutely no life, no job prospects, no anything. I had been wallowing in self-pity, which kept me stuck in the past.

  My life was in total limbo. I was still reeling from the shock of it all and still constantly, on a daily basis, feeling the acute sense of betrayal that Trevv had inflicted on me. Especially since I had never gotten an actual apology from him, or anything that vaguely resembled one. That was clear from my desire to get revenge on him. But the only true act of revenge would be for me to get over this once and for all. It wasn’t really revenge if it took all of this effort from me to try to prove to them I was happy. Instead, I had to actually get out there and be happy.

  All my baggage from my relationship with Trevv only amplified everything I was feeling in relation to Chris now. It was like adding fuel to the fire. My feelings of betrayal and hatred for Trevv were mixing in with my feelings for Chris, and what I was left with was a thick, messy pot of boiling, ugly anger.

  It was glaringly obvious that I was absolutely not ready for any kind of a relationship at this stage in my life, with anyone. I had not gotten over my last one. It still had a hold over me. Still haunted me, and the damage it had caused was still very much part of my daily life. I would need to shrug that off first before I could think about another relationship.

  WOW. Deep shit. Finally those self-help books had come in handy. I was seeing everything so clearly now. I knew what I needed to do—I had to let go of my hatred for Trevv and Tess, get back onto the career horse, stop living in fear and embarrassment, and get a fucking life! And I had to tell Chris all of this.

  I needed to
tell him that no matter what he did now to try to make up for this, that it would never work between us. I was still too damaged to have a proper, healthy relationship.

  Was I in love with him? Yes. Absolutely. I looked down at my hand and suddenly realized that I was still wearing my real fake ring. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen and for a moment there, it had felt real.

  But now we needed to get fake divorced.

  I wasn’t able to sleep at all that night and forced myself to wait until at least five a.m. before walking over to Chris’s room. The sun wasn’t up yet and the crickets were still chirping. The birds all seemed to be having an early morning conversation, too. A breeze made all the palms rustle and all the sounds combined, creating a unique morning aria of sorts—it was rather soothing.

  It probably took me another ten minutes or so of standing outside his door to pluck up the courage to knock on it.

  “Annie?” I heard him call from inside, and within seconds the door was wide open and a rather disheveled-looking Chris was standing in the doorway. He hugged me immediately, and I let him. It felt good.

  “Annie, you came back?” He pulled away from the hug and looked me in the eyes. I could see he’d been crying. I don’t think I’ve ever made a man cry before. I was about to open my mouth and start talking when he stopped me.

  “Wait. Sit down. I have this whole speech prepared for you.”

  There was no harm in letting him talk, I guess. It was only fair to let him have his say before I unleashed my new insights onto him. So I sat and waited for the speech. He paced up and down a few times before striking the pose of a man who was about to deliver a great sermon.

  “I’m a total dick. I totally fucked up. I was stupid and cruel and what I did to you was terrible. I don’t really have an excuse for it other than I was in a desperate place, there was this deadline, and nothing was inspiring me. And then you came along. And you were funny, and adorable, and your story was interesting…and I guess I just got carried away. But it’s no excuse, I know.”

  “Chris.” I held up my hand.

  “Wait. I’m not finished. You know how you asked if I’d only suggested that wedding so I could just get more story?”

  I nodded. It was one of the most painful realizations of all—how could I forget?

  “Well, it’s not true. I thought about it and I actually wanted to get married. That’s why I got a real ring, because although it was going to be fake, a part of me really wanted it to be real. I wanted to see you coming down the aisle and imagine what it would be like to be with you.”

  There was something about his tone and his look—I believed him. My heart did a few summersaults in response. I reeled it in quickly.

  “So this is what I propose: We start again. Clear the slate. I know it will take you a long time to trust me again, and maybe you will want to punish me, but that’s okay. I can take it. I’ll take anything you throw my way, as long as you come back to me, because I am totally in love with you—”

  “I’m in love with you too, Chris,” I whispered.

  I’ve never seen anyone bolt across the floor so quickly, and at the speed of light, he was by my side hugging me.

  “Wait!” I pushed him away. “That doesn’t mean I want to be with you.” It was so painful to say those words out loud.

  Chris pulled away and looked panicked.

  “Because I’ve been thinking that, well, I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship just yet. I don’t think I’ve gotten over the last one properly. In fact, I was thinking that maybe I needed to go to therapy or something, because my life is a mess. I live in a gross garden cottage that I can’t afford, and I’m working in a job that is totally beneath me—even though I love my boss. I barely have a social life anymore. I stay home and sit. I’m stuck. And I need to do something about it, and getting into another relationship, when I’m clearly still too fucked up from the previous one, is not the answer.”

  I hated the look that came over Chris’s face right then. It was devastation. He looked like I had just punched him in the stomach.

  “It’s actually not really about the movie anymore, Chris. Sure, I’m totally pissed off about it. You betrayed me in the worst way possible—but it’s about something so much bigger now.”

  “Can we not do that together…rebuild your life and get you moved on?” His voice was desperate.

  I shook my head. “You read Cosmo. You already know the answer to that. This is something that I need to do on my own. You’re not going to fix me, only I can.”

  Chris smiled a weak smile. “Those fucking self-help books, huh?”

  I smiled back at him. “Yup, finally came in handy.”

  “Will you be making gratitude lists and a personal mission statement now?”

  “I might. Hell, maybe I’ll write my own self-help book…”

  We smiled at each other, even though both of our hearts were breaking.

  “So there’s nothing I can say or do to get you back then?” he asked.

  “No.” Such a tiny word. And yet it was probably the hardest word I’d ever had to say.

  “There’s got to be something, Annie. Something?” I could see his mind working overtime. “What if I wrote a movie about how evil Trevv and Tess were and used their real names, and cast really ugly actors to play them and then made them die in the end—a really painful death?”

  I burst out laughing but shook my head. “No more Trevv and Tess. I need to forget that stuff now. Let go of it.”

  But his mind continued ticking away. “There’s got to be something I can do, and I’m not going to stop until I find it—”

  “Please, don’t say that, you’re just making this harder.” It was taking all my self-control now not to just throw myself into his arms and forget everything that I knew was true and right.

  “So it’s completely over for us? Forever? How can you be so sure our story ends here? Maybe we’ll bump into each other in thirty years this time under the Eiffel Tower and realize that we’re still in love or—”

  “Okay. Fine, I don’t know. Maybe one day. But not now. Definitely not now.”

  “Maybe one day?” he repeated, his eyes lighting up with hope. “I can work with that. At least it’s not never!”

  “But…,” I jumped in quickly. I didn’t want him to hang on to some kind of false hope. “I didn’t say that we would—”

  “I understand. But I’m prepared to wait…just in case.” He moved toward me again and took my hand. “I’ll wait. I’ve never been in love before, and now that I am, I’m not going to give up without a fight.”

  “Chris”—I held his hands tightly—“I can’t tell you what to do, but I can’t make you any promises, so…”

  “So you’re telling me to move on then. Forget this ever happened.” He looked angry now, and I didn’t want us to leave angry at each other. I had enough anger in me to last a lifetime, and I didn’t want any more. “Because I’m not going to forget this…ever. And I won’t forget you, either. Can’t we just try again? Please?”

  I pulled away from him. I needed him to understand. “No! That’s not going to happen.”

  Chris nodded and looked apologetic. “Sorry, Annie. I actually do understand. It all makes perfect sense and you’re right, you do owe it to yourself to get better and heal and all that stuff…It’s just really hard for me to accept. That’s all.”

  “I know.” There was a long silence between us. “So I guess this is good-bye.”

  And then a very unexpected wicked smiled flashed across his face. “For now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Annie Anne, I’m going to get you back. Maybe it won’t be tomorrow, maybe it won’t be in six months even, maybe I’ll have to wait until I’m old and ugly and gray and a tourist in Paris…but mark my words. One day, I’ll make you my real wife.” He winked at me, and I felt my heart beat faster. I held my hands together tightly and felt the ring; I started sliding it off my finger.

>   “No, keep it. You’re going to need to wear it one day again anyway. So don’t lose it.” He seemed to be looking happier now, and I got the impression that he was already formulating some grand reunion plan in his head.

  “Chris, Chris, Chris…” I shook my head with a smile. His persistence was making him hard to resist and it was also, somewhere deep inside, keeping that spark of hope alive. “What am I going to do with you?”

  He stepped forward. “Right now you’re going to kiss me.” And without warning he took my face between his hands and kissed me. It was so soft and so full of love and care that there was no doubt in my mind that he really did love me.

  “So run along now and do your thing. And I believe in you and support you, and when you least expect it, I’m coming for you again.”

  I laughed, “You make it sound so sinister.”

  “Maybe it will be. Maybe I’ll have to come and kidnap you one day and hold you hostage forever.”

  I looked up into his eyes. He was so beautiful. I kissed him one last time and started making my way for the door. He called out to me as I was leaving, “For what it’s worth, I really, really am sorry.”

  I smiled. “Thank you.”

  “I mean it. I messed up. I’m so, so sorry.”

  “I know.”

  “I never wanted to hurt you like Trevv did, and certainly not like my dad did my mom. I’m not sure I’ll easily forgive myself for doing that to you.”

  I smiled at him faintly. Because I could see how deeply sorry he was.

  “Now go be great, Annie Anne.”

  ***

  D-day 2

  It dawned on me that this was another D-day of sorts. One of those days that comes every now and again and changes your life completely. Shoves you off the path you’re on and flings you onto the unfamiliar, less-traveled one—with no map or GPS to guide you. Like “Nipple-Gate Day” this was its own kind of hell. Chris was gone; he’d left the resort but left a little note behind. Four words, that’s all.