I Do--Or Do I?

by Karen King

  Her heart was tap dancing in her chest as she carried the note to the bed, perched herself on the end of it, and took a deep breath before unfolding it.

  Dear Cassie,

  I love you. I always have and always will. No, I can’t promise to give up my dream for you because that will destroy me. I can promise to always love you though, to always come back to you. I understand if that isn’t enough but please don’t settle for anything less than love.

  I’m begging you not to marry Timothy if you aren’t sure that you love him. You deserve to be loved, adored, cherished all the days of your life. I don’t think you’ll have that with Timothy and it will eventually destroy you.

  I’ll be waiting for you in reception until 8.30 a.m., hoping you come to join me; hoping that you love me and want to share your life with me because I want to share my life with you.

  Yours for eternity,

  Jared

  P.S. I’ve managed to persuade Savannah not to tell Timothy about our dance. And if you decide that you want to go ahead and marry Timothy I’ll tell Daniel that I’m quitting, so hopefully he or Imogen will photograph your wedding. I’m sorry to let you down but it will be too difficult for us both if I do it.

  Tears sprung into her eyes as she read it. He sounded so sincere. Was he?

  She paced around the room, reading the letter over and over again. In her heart she wanted to run down to reception, fling herself into Jared’s arms, tell him that she loved him and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

  Which would be a stupid thing to do, for both of them.

  She was sure that seeing her again had stirred up old memories and Jared thought he still loved her, but he didn’t. You can’t turn love on and off like that. He’d walked out of her life, left her distraught, and had made no attempt to contact her during the past seven years, whereas a day hadn’t gone by when she hadn’t thought of him. If he had truly loved her he wouldn’t have been able to stay away so long. He’d have got in touch with her when he returned from one of his trips. But he hadn’t. And once he was in the Arctic he’d forget about her all over again. It would be out of sight, out of mind. She glanced at the clock and saw it was just past eight. Was he downstairs waiting for her? Would he come up and knock on the door, refuse to take no for an answer? She shook her head. No, Jared wouldn’t beg. He’d accept her decision. She just hoped she was making the right one.

  She was so deep in thought that it took a couple of minutes for her to realise that her phone was ringing. She fished it out of her bag just as it stopped, and glanced at the screen. Timothy. She frowned. It wasn’t like Timothy to call this early in the morning. Surely Savannah hadn’t tracked him down already? Jared said he’d talked her out of it. She took a deep breath and hit reply. ‘Hi, Timothy …’

  ‘Cassandra.’ She flinched at the undertone of anger in his voice. So Savannah had told him. She braced herself but his next words stunned her. ‘Is it true what Amanda has just told me? Did you write this outrageous and deeply personal “Almost a Bride” column in your newspaper?’

  Oh shit! This was worse than Savannah telling Timothy about her dance with Jared.

  Her mind was racing, trying to remember what was in this week’s column. What had she said about Jared? She’d had to mention him, of course, Owen always insisted she did, that’s what the public wanted to hear, but she didn’t think she’d said much, she hadn’t had an appointment with him that week. Then she remembered that Owen had made her rewrite it, she’d added a fictional meeting with Jared –Blake – and said she was glad to going away so she could have a bit of breathing space, clear her mind. Stop thinking about Blake and wondering what her wedding to him would have been like. No wonder Timothy was upset. He was probably wondering if it was true, that she was in France trying to stop thinking about her ex who also happened to be her wedding photographer. What would he think if he knew Jared was there, too?

  ‘Well. Did you?’

  She so didn’t want to do this over the phone. She’d wanted to talk to him face to face, explain the situation.

  She took a deep breath. ‘Yes, I did, but it’s just journalism, Timothy. You know what my job is like. I have to write things that attract the reader; make them want to read more.’ She gulped. ‘Owen said the paper is struggling and we needed to add a bit more reader interest to the column. It was all his idea.’

  ‘You’re saying he made you write this stuff?’

  ‘I’m a journalist, Timothy, it’s my job …’

  ‘So the photographer isn’t an old flame of yours?’

  Damn. She had better be as honest as she could. ‘Well, we did go out a long time ago, yes. I didn’t mention it to you because …’

  ‘I think it’s perfectly clear why you didn’t mention it to me, Cassandra. We’ll discuss this further when you get home.’

  ‘Timothy, let me explain.’

  It was too late, he’d cut her off. A sure sign that he was annoyed. Make that furious, judging by his tone.

  Now what did she do?

  If only she could talk to Sam, but she’d be on her way to work.

  Well, that was it. There would definitely be no wedding now. Last night she’d been thinking of calling it off, now she knew she had to. If Timothy didn’t do it first.

  They were finished. Even if Timothy forgave her for writing the column and not telling him about Jared, there was no way she could marry him knowing she loved someone else.

  She sat there for a moment as the enormity of what was happening hit her. She would have to find somewhere to live. She couldn’t stay in Timothy’s flat now. It was her own fault. She’d known all along that deep down that she hadn’t loved Timothy. She liked him, respected him, thought she could have a happy life with him. But she didn’t love him.

  She was pretty sure he didn’t love her either. He wanted to marry her because he thought it was time he settled down and thought she would make a suitable wife. Why the hell hadn’t she seen that before? She guessed she should be grateful to Jared for opening her eyes to the fact that she was about to have a sham wedding. Now she had to try and disentangle herself from this mess as painlessly as she could.

  She had to pull herself together and get through the rest of the day. There was one more venue to visit, then they were being driven to the airport to go home. So she had all day to sort out in her head what she was going to say to Timothy.

  ‘Miss Tyler, there’s a message for you,’ the receptionist said as Cassie checked out. She picked up a white envelope and handed it to her.

  ‘Thank you.’ She recognised Jared’s writing on the envelope and slipped it into her handbag. She’d read it later. She couldn’t face dealing with it now. She needed to act professional and give her work her full attention – she didn’t want to lose her job as well as everything else.

  ‘Are you OK? You look a bit pale,’ Leah asked.

  ‘I didn’t sleep very well,’ Cassie told her. ‘Too much wine last night.’ She fixed a bright smile on her face and picked up her bag. ‘It’s probably a good job we’re going home today. I could get used to this fine living.’

  ‘Me too,’ Leah said with a grin. She lowered her voice. ‘That photographer guy … is everything OK with you both?’

  ‘Sure. He’s someone I knew a long time ago.’ She shrugged. ‘He asked me to have a dance for old time’s sake and his girlfriend got jealous. It’s all fine now. He came to apologise for embarrassing me when she caused a scene.’

  Cassie didn’t get chance to read Jared’s letter until the flight home. Leah was booked on a seat further back this time, and Cassie was sitting next to an elderly couple who spent the flight doing a crossword together. The letter had been on her mind all day. Part of her didn’t want to read it but she knew she wouldn’t rest until she did, so she took the envelope out of her handbag and turned it over. She slid her finger through the top corner, ripped it open and took out the slip of paper, once again ripped from a spiral-bound notebook. Her heart po
unded as she read it slowly.

  Darling Cassie,

  I wondered if the reason you didn’t turn up this morning was because you didn’t know whether to trust me. Do you doubt if I am genuine, that I really do love you? I want to reassure you again that I do. I love you. I’ve always loved you. I can’t turn the clock back to the day I walked out on you and put it right. I wish I could. But maybe that wouldn’t be a good thing. We’ve both grown since then, matured, become our own person. Maybe we needed that time. But now I’ve seen you again I can’t walk away without telling you how much you mean to me and how much I want to be with you. If I truly felt that you’d be happy with Timothy then I wouldn’t try and come between you. But I don’t think you will be. Timothy’s too uptight, too stuffy, too formal for you and I feel he’s stifling you, too. When you’re with him it’s like the carefree Cassie, the one who laughs over little things, jokes, plays around, enjoys life, has gone. I don’t want him to crush you like that but I know it’s not my decision.

  If you really love Timothy then go ahead and marry him, because all I want is for you to be happy. But if you are only marrying him because you want security, because you think he’s a safe bet, then please don’t. Whether you love me or not – and I think you do – don’t settle for marrying for anything less than love. You deserve more than that.

  I’m here if you decide you want me, any time. If I haven’t heard from you by 19th July, the day I leave for the Arctic, I won’t contact you again.

  Whatever decision you make, be happy.

  Love you for eternity,

  Jared.

  Underneath his signature he’d drawn a heart with LYL inside – Love you loads – just like he’d always done when he wrote to her.

  She folded the letter back into the envelope and slid it into her bag as tears were pricking her eyes.

  Love you loads. They’d always said that to each other. ‘I love you loads too,’ she whispered. If only it was a simple as that. How she longed to go back to being that young girl who thought love was enough to get you through everything. She knew now it wasn’t. Jared hadn’t changed. He wouldn’t want to be tied down with her now any more than he did all those years ago. And she couldn’t stand for her heart to be broken again. He was right though, she was marrying Timothy for security and that was wrong. It was a good thing, really, that Timothy had read her columns. Now he would be the one to call off the wedding and she wouldn’t feel so cruel.

  She was dreading facing him. He sounded furious and the last thing she wanted was a scene. She would arrive home by mid-afternoon, and Timothy would still be in his meeting, so she could pack a few things and leave a note saying how sorry she was. It sounded cowardly but if she was honest with herself, Timothy intimidated her when he was angry. He had never threatened her or hurt her but she’d always been afraid of crossing him – he could be so cold and verbally brutal. She needed to arrange somewhere to spend a couple of nights while she sorted herself out. Perhaps Sam could come to the rescue. Failing that, she’d check into a B&B.

  As soon as she got off the plane she switched on her phone and messaged Sam. ‘Text me as soon as you can please. Crisis!’

  Sam phoned just as Cassie’s luggage swirled around the conveyor belt.

  ‘OK, spill,’ were the first words that came out of her mouth when Cassie answered the call.

  ‘Hang on while I get my bag.’ Cassie grabbed the red suitcase, pulled it off the belt, then wheeled it over to a quiet corner, quickly explaining to Sam about Timothy’s phone call. ‘I’ll have to move out of the flat now so was wondering if I could stay with you and Paul for a couple of nights, just until I sort out somewhere to live,’ she said.

  ‘You can’t be serious? Surely Timothy won’t dump you and call off the wedding just because of that column?’ Sam sounded incredulous. ‘OK, you should have told him about Jared, and he probably won’t like your nickname for his mother but it’s just journalism, isn’t it? Surely he understands that.’ She paused. ‘How come he read your column anyway?’

  ‘Amanda showed it to him. We mentioned that the newspaper was running a wedding column when we went bridesmaid dress shopping, remember? She must have read it and guessed it was me. Not difficult, really.’

  ‘Even so, calling off the wedding and finishing with you is a bit drastic. I’m sure you can talk him round. Take home a bottle of wine and slip on your sexiest undies.’

  ‘Even if Timothy doesn’t call off the wedding, I will.’

  ‘What?’

  Cassie quickly explained about Jared being in France and what had gone on between them.

  ‘OMG, Jared was in France! And he said he still loves you! What are you going to do? Are you calling off the wedding so you can marry him?’

  ‘No, of course not.’ ‘But I can’t marry Timothy now. Look, I’ll explain it later. I just want to know if I can doss down on your sofa for a couple of nights until I find somewhere to live. I can’t possibly stay with Timothy any longer.’

  ‘Of course you can. Paul’s away until the weekend at a conference up in Newcastle so it won’t be a problem.’

  ‘Thank you, Sam. I really appreciate it.’ Cassie ended the call, slipped the phone into her pocket, and glanced at her watch. She had three hours before Timothy got home, time enough to throw some essentials into her other suitcase. She could ask Timothy to send the rest later. She bit her lip as tears flooded her eyes. What a mess. If only Sylvia had booked a different photographer, none of this would have happened.

  Then what? She would marry Timothy and they would live happy ever after? No, it would never have worked out; meeting Jared again had shown her that. How she wished they had never met again. It had taken her years to fix her broken heart before, now she felt like she’d never be able to put it back together again.

  Thirty

  She hesitated for a moment before putting her key in the lock and pushing open the front door. Even though she knew Timothy wouldn’t be home, she felt nervous walking into the flat. This had been her home for the past few months and now she had to leave it; start all over again. Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away. She was doing the right thing, she knew she was, and although she would miss Timothy she had to admit that it wouldn’t break her heart not to see him again.

  Not like Jared.

  She wheeled her suitcase into the lounge, then gasped when she saw Timothy sitting on the sofa. He was holding a glass of what looked like whisky in his hand and several copies of the newspaper were laid out on the table in front of him, all open on her column. She could tell by the set of his jaw, the cold steel of his grey eyes as they rested on her, his granite expression, that he was furious. Her stomach lurched.

  ‘Timothy. I thought you’d be at work,’ she stammered.

  ‘You really expect me to go to work as if nothing has happened?’ His iceberg tones sent a shiver down her spine. ‘Do you think I have no feelings at all?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘It’s just journalism, Timothy. You know what my job’s like. I told you, Owen ordered me to write the column. Sales are down, we needed something to bring in the readers or the paper will fold and everyone will be out of work.’

  ‘Owen ordered you to write about our private life? To refer to my mother in such a demeaning way?’ He put the glass down and rose to his feet. ‘Monster-in-law indeed! After everything she’s done for you.’ He stood up and took a step forward. Cassie nervously took a step back, her heart thud-thudding. ‘Do you realise what this has done to my mother? She’s distraught. Amanda is with her now, trying to comfort her.’

  His mother. Is that all he cared about after everything she’d written? She’d expected Jared to be the first thing he’d rage about.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt her. Of course I don’t really think of her as a monster-in-law. I’m not talking about us in that column. It’s fictitious. Owen told me to write about a bride preparing for a wedding, so yes, I took a few things we did, such as shopping
for the wedding dress, and I built on them, exaggerated them to create a humorous column. That’s what journalists do. It’s my job, Timothy. It’s not true.’

  ‘Our friends don’t know that. My mother’s friends don’t know that. How could you show us up in such a public way? How could you be so cruel?’ He was towering over her now, deep furrows of anger etched across his forehead.

  She licked her lips and swallowed the lump of fear constricting her throat. ‘I had no choice, Owen calls the shots. Anyway, no one will know it’s me. I wrote it under a different name.’

  ‘Amanda realised it was you. As did Mother. So will all our friends and neighbours. We’re getting married in two weeks, for goodness’ sake. How could anyone who knew us not recognise it’s you!’ He was shouting now and she flinched. He looked so … menacing.

  To her relief, Timothy turned away and paced agitatedly around the room.

  She didn’t know what to do. When was he going to mention Jared? At the moment he seemed more concerned about what she’d written about his mother.

  ‘This photographer, J.M.’ He almost spat the words out. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you used to go out with him?’

  ‘Because it was years ago. We were nothing more than kids.’ She swallowed. ‘You always said the past didn’t matter, that you didn’t think we needed to share details about previous relationships.’

  ‘It would have been nice to know from your lips that our wedding photographer was a former lover of yours, rather than from the newspaper. You’ve humiliated me, Cassandra. I don’t like being humiliated.’

  ‘I’m sorry …’ She wished he’d sit down; he was making her feel nervous.

  As if reading her thoughts he strode over to the sofa and sat down, perching on the edge of the cushion, like he would stand back up again any minute. He reached out for his glass of whisky and gulped it down.

  ‘Don’t you realise that everyone will think this dilemma about whether you should marry me or run off with the photographer is true, too? You’ve made a fool out of me, Cassandra.’