A Maze of Love

by Sophia Gedeon Sorel

  “Flora and Tony have been dating since University days,” Shanda said, keeping her tone light. She didn’t want to have to chastise him for comparing a year-long relationship to one that had only begun half a year ago. It was much too soon to be discussing marriage. But she did respect Greg’s feelings, and she wanted to hear him out.

  “People are different Shan. I knew as soon as I saw you that I wanted to marry you. Don’t you feel the same?” he asked, his eyes alight with hope.

  “I know what you mean,” Shanda began. “But you know what happened with my parents. I’m frightened of something like that happening to us.”

  Shanda was ashamed of herself for lying. She knew marriage worked; after all, Flora’s parents had been happily married for God knows how many decades. Shanda thought of her mother. The crazy I’m-young-again phrase had thankfully ended, and along with it, so had Edward. Shanda had met the man once and cringed throughout the entire meeting. He was one of those men who hang on to their youthful days, wearing large gold chains, too-small jeans, and leather jackets.

  Shanda and her mom were slowly but surely repairing their relationship. She had confided in Shanda that her father had dumped the secretary and was applying for other teaching positions at other Universities. From her wistful tone, Shanda had worked out that her mother was not averse to going back to her dad. And if that happened, that would be fine with her. It didn’t bother Shanda either way. It was up to them. She was an adult now and she had her own life to live.

  “Shan, you can’t let something like that discolor your view of marriage. My parents are happy, so are Flora’s and Tony’s. Your parents were the exception. I’m sorry sweetheart, I wish I could change that.”

  Shanda swallowed hard. “Why don’t we wait a couple of months, you know, give me time to get used to the idea, and then maybe we can revisit it.” She wanted to yell at him that they’d been together for seven months. Less than the gestation period of a whole human being. But she didn’t. For some reason, she could not fault the man for believing in love at first sight. After all, Shanda had once believed in it herself.

  Greg contemplated her. “Alright, I can wait a couple of months. That’s a reasonable request.”

  She let out a sigh of relief. At least she had bought herself a few weeks. Greg was a man who kept his word, and she knew that he would not pester her in those two months. She would deal with it when the determined waiting period had ended. Who knew what could happen over the course of a few months, anyway? She could very well have an overhaul of her entire thought process regarding the matter and decide that Greg really was the man for her.

  The weeks flew by, and Shanda was kept occupied, being Flora’s maid of honor and helping her with all the wedding arrangements. Shanda totally lost track of time and only knew that the two-month vow of silence when it came to her own potential wedding vows had passed when Greg brought it up. They were lying in his bed after they’d made love. Shanda slept facing the wall, while Greg lay on his back, his eyes on the ceiling. He didn’t like cuddling after making love, which was just fine with Shanda. His body was incredibly warm, and she felt like she’d been shoved into a frying pan She needed space from him after they’d finished.

  The wall was covered in a patterned wall paper, which she often teased Greg about.

  “I love wall paper,” he replied. “I’ll have my whole home covered in it. Outside and in.”

  Shanda hated wall paper. And while she knew that Greg was teasing about papering the outside of his home, he absolutely liked wallpaper. Too much. She liked paint; earth colors on her walls. Such differences seemed petty on the surface, but to Shanda, they were symptoms of a larger incompatibility. To be reminded of any difference in taste or opinion only reminded Shanda of the wider gulfs that existed between them.

  She and Greg were so different, she told herself. They would fight everyday of their lives about non-issues, like interior decorations of their home. But they had never fought in the time they had been going out, a voice in her head pointed out. That’s because they did not live together, Shanda stubbornly thought. This was stupid, she thought suddenly. She was having an argument with herself, while in bed with her lover.

  “Shanda?” he said. “Are you asleep?”

  She wanted to feign sleep, but it was still early. Greg would know she was a faker. He wouldn’t be able to prove it, but she still couldn’t lie to him outright.

  Outside the snow was falling softly, and darkness had set in though it was only eight o’clock. She wondered as her eyes traced the horrid pattern of that wallpaper, and the chill of winter swept just over her skin: what Ralph was doing in California?

  “No,” she replied.

  “Face me sweetheart.”

  Shanda turned over and lay on her side facing Greg. His hair was tussled up and he looked like a young boy, with his brown eyes searching her face.

  “I want to marry you.”

  The announcement, so sudden, caught her by surprise.

  “Marry me?” she echoed foolishly, as if she hadn’t known this was coming. As if she hadn’t been fending off this very moment since the day they’d met and she saw the look in Greg’s eyes that reflected the look that had once been in hers. Not when she’d met Greg, but when she’d fallen in love at first sight.

  “Yes, Shanda. I’m tired of waiting. I want a family to go home to. We love each other, don’t we?”

  She nodded. She did love Greg. She wasn’t in love with him. It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t Ralph. But no one was at fault for this, and she would never be with Ralph. This man was a good man. She’d be unlikely to even find someone as good as Greg if she were to be single again.

  “You look so beautiful, lying there. I wish I knew what you were thinking,” Greg said, pushing back strands of her hair gently.

  Shanda gave a nervous laugh. In the pit of her stomach, she knew this was it and she wanted to throw herself on his chest and sob. Greg was so good, why couldn’t she fall in love with him? Why didn’t he make her heart beat wildly when their bodies touched, or their eyes met? Why did she feel lonely while she slept in bed next to him?

  “Shan?”

  “I can’t, Greg,” she blurted out.

  His face went still.

  “Can’t what?”

  Shanda closed her eyes. Her mouth was dry. How would she tell him? She didn’t want to marry him, or any other man who wasn’t Ralph. She knew how stupid that was. Ralph was probably married now, maybe even with a child on the way. Oh Ralph! The two years had done nothing to curb her love for him. If anything, the time and the distance had made her longing even more intense.

  “I can’t marry you,” she said softly.

  “Why not Shan? We’re so good together,” Greg said, his voice laced with the anguish he felt.

  Shanda suddenly felt smothered and wanted to get as far away from him as possible. But she couldn’t. She knew the pain she was causing this man now was no different than the pain she’d lived through two years ago, so Shanda gritted her teeth, and she continued to lay in bed with him. She continued to look him in the eye and tell him she did not love him.

  “Is there someone else? Is it still too soon?” he continued.

  “No, there’s no one. And it’s not because things are moving too quickly,” Shanda replied, honestly.

  There wasn’t someone else, not in the sense that Greg meant anyway. She wasn’t with anyone else. She didn’t sleep next to anyone else, or share dinner with anyone else. It was her heart. She’d given it to someone who had never wanted it in the first place and now she would never be able to get it back.

  “Then what? Please tell me, I deserve to know that at the very least.”

  “I’m just not ready for marriage, and I’m so sorry, but I don’t know if I ever will.”

  “Maybe I’m rushing you. I’ll wait for you, Baby, and I promise, I won’t ask you again until you give me a sign.”

  She looked into his earnest eyes and she knew that she co
uldn’t continue to do that to him. It just wasn’t fair. She cupped his cheeks.

  “No Greg, you’re not rushing me,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “It’s me. I can’t hold on to you, knowing I might just be wasting your time.”

  “Please, don’t.”

  His eyes were filled with unshed tears. Unable to bear it any more, Shanda jumped from the bed and frantically began to put her clothes back on. Greg sat up, and his eyes followed her as she collected her clothing.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I have to go Greg, I’m sorry,” Shanda said without looking up.

  “Is this it Shan? Is this the end of us?”

  “I’m sorry Greg,” Shanda said, tears misting her eyes, and her throat closing around her words. “Look for a girl who deserves your love.”

  “I already found her,” he said bitterly.

  She glanced at him once more, took in his tormented expression and then she fled. Outside, she felt as though she had come out of prison after being jailed for years. She wanted to scream and jump; instead, she dipped her hands into the pockets of her winter coat and walked briskly towards home.

  Shanda learnt on the day of Flora’s wedding rehearsal that Greg had left town for good. They were in the bathroom, touching their make up before the rehearsal began.

  “He called me Shan,” Shanda said in a dull voice. Flora had a tough time understanding why Shanda had let such a man go. No matter how many times Shanda told her that she just didn’t love him, Flora didn’t understand why. So, Shanda started telling her the little things about Greg that bothered her.

  Flora turned away from the mirror and looked at her.

  “So? You could have told him you hated it. It’s not that, is it? It’s still bloody Ralph, isn’t it? I’m telling you, that man does not deserve your love Shanda.”

  Shanda had nothing to say. She could not deny the truth of what Flora was saying. She returned to the mirror, but Shanda could feel Flora’s eyes on her.

  “He did write to me once, about a year ago,” Flora murmured.

  All blood drained from Shanda’s face. She grabbed Flora’s arm. “Ralph wrote to you? About what?”

  Flora nodded. “He wanted to know how you were doing.”

  “What did you say?” Shanda breathed out.

  “The truth. I told him the truth—that you were happy, and in a relationship with a wonderful man named Greg.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?” Shanda screamed.

  “No, I didn’t and it was for your own good,” Flora said in a self-righteous tone that drove Shanda over the edge.

  “You’re not my bloody mother!”

  “Someone has to be, seeing that you’re not very good at taking care of yourself,” Flora retorted.

  “Damn you, Flora!”

  “No, Damn you Shanda! You have just lost a wonderful man, pinning over a man you should have been over a long time ago.”

  “That’s my bloody business!”

  Shanda had never been as angry as she was at that moment. Flora flounced out in a huff and when the door closed, Shanda took two deep breaths. She went into one of the cubicles and sat down. Oh God! Now she had upset Flora on the day of her wedding rehearsal. Oh Ralph, if only she had known! She let herself have a good cry before she was able to leave the cubicle and rinse her face.

  She would apologize to Flora. It had been stupid of her to be angry. After all, Flora had just been looking out for her as she always did, and how did she thank her? Shanda resolved to treat her friend better, to apologize and possibly buy her the most expensive wedding gift on Flora’s registry.

  Chapter 10

  Ralph had agonized over whether to attend Tony and Flora’s wedding. He hated the thought of running into Shanda with her boyfriend, but the lure of seeing her again was too great, and in the end, he’d decided he would risk seeing her again, if only to see her happy and in love. She was at her most beautiful when she was in love. He knotted his tie and stared at his reflection critically. He looked all right, though his tan had faded somewhat. It had now been three months since he had moved back to Oregon.

  He had a good job with a small, but growing firm and Ralph was planning to start his own firm a few years down the line. For the moment, he had started a master’s evening program in St. Augustine’s. It felt odd, being back in the University, and the whole campus was dotted with the landscape of his time with Shanda—memories that had threatened to overwhelm him. One evening, he had walked past her apartment and had seen the lights on. The temptation to go in had been strong, but the thought of finding her with Greg had dissuaded him.

  The wedding was a garden wedding, and he smiled at Flora’s eccentric nature. Who did a garden wedding in winter? She and Tony were lucky that the weather was fairly mild, especially for an Oregon winter. There was a weak stream of sunlight that cast a pretty orange glow on the naked trees. He walked a little while and when he saw a cab, he hailed it down.

  He felt like a teenager going for his first dance. His skin tingled with nerves and he felt sweaty even though it was cool. The cab stopped at the botanical gardens and after paying his fare, Ralph hopped out. He adjusted his tie for the umpteenth time. Oh Shanda! How did she look like now? Would she look at him, her eyes blazing with hatred?

  If she did, Ralph would be devastated. Ralph followed the direction written on white cardboard, announcing Tony and Flora’s wedding. He joined other guests in the white chairs arranged against the back drop of trees and climbing flowers. It was truly beautiful, he admitted to himself. Ralph waved to a few people and declined invitations to sit with some old friends.

  He wanted nothing to distract him from his first look at Shanda after two years. He fidgeted in his seat and craned his neck until finally, soft music floated in the air and he knew the moment had arrived. The groom and his groomsmen stood at the front, and he and Tony exchanged looks. Tony smiled and nodded at him and Ralph did the same.

  The flower girls and page boys walked down the aisle and at that point, his nerves were completely on edge. He sat in the middle of the crowd, hoping to observe Shanda before she saw him. The tempo of the music changed and when he turned back, he saw her.

  She wore an off-pink, shoulder-less dress, but it was her face that Ralph’s eye was drawn to. Her hair was tied back loosely in a matching ribbon and her eyes sparkled with joy. Ralph felt his knees grow weak. She was still just as beautiful and sexy as the day they he met her. He kept his eyes on her as she walked down the aisle and then took her place to the side as Flora glided in.

  Ralph took in the bride’s pretty appearance and then went back to Shanda. He soaked in her every movement, remembering each gesture and loving it when she laughed, throwing her head back. Seeing her so close, yet so far, Ralph’s heart ached with longing. She was even more captivating than he’d remembered. He had been a fool!

  When the couple had said their vows and the ceremony was over, Ralph blended in with the other guests as they headed to the reception area. He chose a table at the back and this time, he did join his friends. Shanda has not seen him, but Flora sure had, and her mouth had formed into an ‘O’. Luckily, she had been too busy and often distracted to pay mind to his presence, and he knew that she had not told Shanda.

  By the end of the reception, Shanda was exhausted and she stifled a yawn. The wedding had been great, perfect, even, but she had gone through so many emotions seeing her best friend getting married that she felt drained. She couldn’t wait to kick off her shoes, and relax on her couch, while rehashing the day.

  Shanda was glad she’d declined Flora’s invitation to play the Wedding March on her cello. She hadn’t been able to play for years, and she was terrified that she’d lost her ability. Plus, playing the Wedding March would mean that she wouldn’t be able to stand at her best friend’s side while she got married to the man she loved. The string quartet she’d hired had been fantastic. Shanda’s heart did ache a bit when she watched the cellist deftly move his finger
s along the bridge of the instrument, but she quickly shook the feeling off in favor of being happy for her friend.

  “Alright ladies, time to catch the flowers,” the best man, a cheerful man called Collins announced, startling Shanda from her thoughts, and reminding her that she needed to stand up.

  Dutifully, Shanda went to stand with the other single ladies.

  “Ready everyone?” Flora shouted the flowers in her hands.

  Flora caught Shanda’s eye, and she winked. Shanda grinned and assumed a ready-to-catch stance.

  “Here it comes,” Flora yelled, and threw the bouquet into the air.

  Shanda stood in place as the other women jostled amongst themselves in an effort to catch the flowers. To her amazement, the bunch of flowers fell right into her arms. To show that she was in the moment, Shanda yelled and twirled around, clutching the flowers to her chest. The people around her cheered, as she twirled round and when she came to a stop, she looked up. Her legs turned to water. She’d once again, run into a tall, handsome man.

  It was Ralph. He stood out against a sea of people, looking at her with the most gorgeous smile. She blinked several times and her eyes frantically searched for Flora. She found her, staring back at Shanda. She gave her a smile and a thumbs-up. What did that mean? Since when did Flora give Ralph the thumbs-up? Shanda dragged her eyes back to Ralph, and then felt a sense of loss when he wasn’t where he had been.

  “You look so beautiful,” he said. This time, his voice came from behind her.

  The hairs on her neck stood up. She tried several times to speak, but her words were caught within her. She took a deep breath and managed one word:

  “Ralph,” Shanda breathed.

  It all seemed like a dream. Ralph standing just next to her.

  “I’ve missed you, Shanda, more than you can imagine,” Ralph confessed in his soft, sexy voice. “I love you, Shanda. And I’m so, so sorry.”

  All her feelings of shock wore off and a searing rage came over her. Who the hell did he think he was? Shanda recalled with sharp clarity the humiliation she had faced in California two years ago.