“I want you to be happy Ava, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. If you’re happy with him, then so be it. We will always be friends.”
What the hell is going on here? He is happy that I’m with Harper? And he wants to be friends? Oh God, his note was true. He has moved on, and forgotten everything we experienced together. If the tables were turned, I most definitely would not be expressing my happiness over him hooking up with someone other than me. All this time, all the kind gestures and flirty innuendoes were me just reading into things, and wishing for it to be true.
I rub my temples as I have a steady migraine approaching.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, fine, I’m good,” I lie, throwing him a faux smile, and stuffing my face to stop myself from saying something he obviously doesn’t want to hear.
Chapter 14
Gone with the Wind
The next day, V and I drive down to Dominique’s for V’s dress fitting. I am super excited to see her dress, and hope the snooty Dominique doesn’t ruin my mood.
We enter the shop, and Dominique comes floating out from behind the counter to greet V with a kiss on both cheeks.
“Oh Cherie, you look tres belle.”
“Thank you Dominique. I feel nervous about seeing the dress.”
“Oh non, don’t be. You will look like a princess.”
She looks over at me, not down her nose this time thankfully.
“Salut Ava. Sit S'il vous plait while Veronica tries on the dress.”
I plonk onto the circular sofa as V and Dominique venture out the back.
Peering around the shop, I get a knot the size of my fist in my stomach, and I don’t know why I keep behaving this way when confronted with wedding commodities. What am I going to be like when it’s my turn to try on my wedding dress? I cringe at the thought.
But deep down, I know if Jasper was the one I was marrying, I would not be having this mini meltdown. However, before I can dissect my behavior any further, I hear Dominique talking to V in French. I have no idea what she is saying and I doubt V does either, but it doesn’t matter because as soon as my best friend comes out from her dressing room, nothing else matters.
“Well, what do you think?” asks V nervously, as she stands before me.
I am gobsmacked. V can make any garment look good, but this dress, it was made for her.
“Ava?” she asks anxiously when I don’t answer her.
My best friend has transformed into a princess overnight. Her dress is a stunning ivory ball gown, which complements her dark hair. There is layer upon layer of tulle that comes out at the waist, and sweeps the floor into a long train. It is strapless and bunches around the bust line, and is set off with beautiful beading, fringing the top of the dress. When she spins around, I notice it ties into a corset back.
“Well?”
“Oh V,” I coo.
I can’t help myself, and I burst into tears.
“Is it bad?” she cries. “Oh my God, I look like Bridal Barbie, don’t I?”
I shake my head, tears spilling over my lashes.
“You look beautiful,” I whisper.
“Then why are you crying?”
Shrugging, I cover my face with my palms, as I don’t want to tell her the reason for my howling. And that reason is one I have been avoiding since my return. I know deep down, I can’t marry Harper, as just the thought of trying on a wedding dress sends me into a tailspin.
V picks up her gown and I hear her swishing over to me.
“Why are you back together with Harper?” she asks while sitting near me, squashing me with all her tulle.
She knows what has caused my sadness, but this is about her, not me. So I decide to take the easy way out.
“I love him,” I quietly reply, removing my hands from my face.
I knew this conversation would take place, but I didn’t anticipate how hard it would be to discuss. And I certainly didn’t think it would happen now.
“Oh bullshit, you do not! We both know who you love, and it ain't that well to-do snob. I won't even touch on your new wardrobe because we don’t have all day to tackle that issue.”
Lowering my eyes, I smooth out my pencil skirt nervously.
V witnesses my discomfort and places her hand on my forearm. “You're different Ava. It's like you've been brainwashed by some cult where Harper is your messiah. Oh God, please tell me that's not what's happened.” Her eyes widen, afraid of my response.
“No, of course not V, stop being so melodramatic,” I sniffle, amused by her overactive imagination.
“Then what is it? Explain it to me because I don't understand. You went to Singapore for a new beginning, but you've done nothing but dig up old, unhealthy relationships. I know you aren't happy, and I know you are hiding something from me.”
I nervously look away from her inquisitive eyes searching my face.
“Talk to me. There was a time you told me everything. I feel like I don't even know you anymore. This distant attitude, it’s not you. These clothes, they aren't you. They are Harper. Remember him, the guy that almost turned you into a drooling basket case.” She grips my forearm tighter, encouraging me to answer her truthfully.
“He's different.”
“Oh God, no he's not! He's still the same, spoilt arrogant jackass, who not so long ago discarded you like yesterday's trash,” she yells grabbing her dress, and bunching the tulle between her fists.
Cringing at her analogy, I can't find the fight in me to argue with her.
“Why are you punishing yourself?”
I take a deep breath, but still words evade me.
“It's because of Jasper, isn't it? You won't forgive yourself for lying to him will you? You think you deserve someone like Harper because you're not worth anything more.”
How the hell does this girl do it?
I just shake my head, not wanting to discuss this. I feel guilty as I have ruined a moment that should be filled with happiness.
V throws her hands in the air, and races to the change room in a huff.
Wow, that was easy.
Or so I thought.
“Ava, God dammit, talk to me!” V lets out a frustrated sigh as she stomps out two minutes later, changed and ready for battle.
“What do you want me to say? I’ve made my decision.”
I look at my best friend, in her pink sloppy joe and frayed denim shorts. She looks how I used to look. I miss that look, and I miss how I used to feel when I had that look.
“That decision is the wrong one, and you know it! Remember the time when you and Jasper broke up, and you were sitting at my kitchen table,” she says, sitting near me.
I nod quickly, biting my lip.
“You said how do you keep fucking up with him.”
The memory hurts like it only happened yesterday. “Yes of course I remember, what’s your point?”
V searches my face. “Well is this one of those times? Because if it is, Ava stop being an idiot and go talk to him. I saw the way you both looked at one another the other night. You’re both either too stubborn or too blind to fix this. And you’ve got rocks in your head if you think I will just stand back and watch you throw your life away, being miserable with Harper.”
I wish I could tell her without breaking down that I was not the one who ended things. I am woman enough to admit that I was the one that fucked up, but Jasper was the one who ended our relationship with that impersonal note. I was willing to fight, fight for him, and fight for us. But he wanted me to forget him, because he had forgotten me.
A tear slips down my cheek when I think how easy it was for him to stop loving me. He is no better than Harper, because he too ripped out my heart with his impersonal goodbye. Did I mean that little to him?
“Ava? Honey, please talk to me.” I hazily hear V talking, but every one of my senses have gone numb.
This is why I don’t want to talk about Jasper. Whenever I do, it induces these episodes of despair and grief, and e
ach time it’s harder and harder to dig my way out.
Barely holding back my tears, I confess, “It wasn’t totally me this time V. Jasper made his choice, and it wasn’t me. I was easily enough forgotten, so why would I waste my life on someone who doesn’t love me? Someone who forgot me and didn’t have the decency to tell me to my face. I can’t do that to myself because if,” and the sob I have been trying so hard to keep a lid on, breaks free. “If I don’t change who I was when I was with him, I will never move on. If I wear these ridiculously expensive clothes, and try to be a different person, then maybe just maybe I can move on without crying myself to sleep every night. Without thinking about him, of every minute, of every single day.”
I can’t stop the tears now, and I drop my head into V’s lap while she stokes my hair lovingly.
“I love your dress by the wa..way,” I stutter, caught up on my tears. I feel like an ass for not complementing her on it sooner.
I hear her sniff back her tears, while I am staining her denim with mine.
“Forget the dress Ava. I want you to listen to me. You can’t change who you are Ava, you can veer off the path, but eventually you will be back on it because that path is the right one for you. With or without Jasper, you have to do that for yourself because this path you’re on, with Harper, is going to lead to a never ending path of regret.”
I know she is right, but I only sob harder into my best friend’s lap.
*****
I need some alone time.
After I balled my eyes out, I feel emotionally and physically drained, so I decide to take a drive through the valley, and get lost in nature for a few hours. I can't believe how much of a mess my life is. I want to cry, but what's the point, because that’s not going to solve my problems. I knew coming back here would result in me being an emotional mess, but I never anticipated how much so.
And after last night’s conversation with Jasper, I am so confused with his emotional bi-polar. He wants to be friends? Is he freakin’ serious? Ugh, I need to stop thinking about this because I still have a billion more hours till I leave.
Indicating, I take the exit, and the cosmic nothingness is exactly what I need. I park my car on the gravel and take off my heels, throwing on my flip flops.
This place always brings back such happy memories because Jasper took me here before he left for Chicago. It’s funny how in this time of confusion, I have ended up here.
I hike through the valley and as usual, I am mesmerised by the vastness of it. The stillness of the outdoors calms me and as I take a deep breath, I feel my shoulders sag in relief.
The lush greenness is contrasted against the bright blue sky, and as I look upwards, I see a red-tailed hawk soaring through the sky. It's funny how I always feel relaxed when I see a bird flapping its wings. I remember telling Jasper I wished I was a bird, of course I meant that metaphorically. Birds to me represent freedom, and that's something I wish to be-free.
Arriving at the exact spot Jasper and I ended up at all those months ago, I spread out my black hoodie I found in my backseat and sit down, my legs out, crossing my ankles.
Looking out into the hills I reminisce, remembering how Jasper reassured me that everything would be okay and he would never leave me. I scoff at the thought as I wish he never promised me something he had no intention of keeping.
The tears I have been trying to keep away break free, and as I start to think about this whole clusterfuck of a situation, I also begin to think about his note.
Clutching my bag to my chest which contains the note, I have carried that piece of paper with me every day since receiving it. And even with its dire message, it was from Jasper and I couldn't throw it away.
Talk about a glutton for punishment!
There hasn’t been a day that I haven’t looked at it, and cried endlessly over it. It is a reminder that no matter what happens, Jasper and I are over. That note stopped me from begging on hands and knees, pleading for forgiveness and reconciliation.
I have to move on because he has made his feelings perfectly clear, by choosing the words he chose to say goodbye. I sob harder as I clutch my bag tighter into my chest, wishing the note never existed. .
My throat is raspy and my eyes are red raw from crying, so I decide to take a brief walk to clear my head. I leave my sweater where it is as I intend to return soon.
Trekking through the valley for about twenty minutes in flip flops is probably not the best idea, and as I look up into the sky and see some dark clouds approaching, I decide to head back because I don’t have an umbrella or raincoat handy, and I don’t want to catch pneumonia for V’s wedding.
As I reach my previous spot, I stop dead in my tracks. There is a Fawn Lily flower lying in the centre of my sweater, and I look around, wondering if maybe the wind may be behind its random appearance. But there are none of these flowers growing nearby.
Walking over apprehensively, I crouch down to pick it up, bringing it up to my nose, and smelling its sweet aroma.
I can smell another sweet aroma, but this fragrance does not belong to a native plant. No, this smell is one I have memorized by heart. Closing my eyes and inhaling deeply, I smell a warm woody fragrance that I can usually smell when Jasper is near.
But surely that can't be right. Why is he out here? Did he follow me? And more importantly, why would he leave me this flower? I blanch, afraid he may have witnessed my hysteria earlier, but brush it off because surely it’s only my overactive mind playing tricks on me.
Even so, I place the flower in my bag beside the note, just in case.
*****
After my brush with nature, I go back to the hotel to shower and change for tonight's wedding rehearsal. Of course Harper is nowhere to be found.
My conversation with V has been playing on my mind, so I decide to dress a little more casually.
Standing in the huge walk in robe, I feel suffocated amongst the likes of Prada, Louis Vuitton and Chanel. So I push the offending garments away to find what I am looking for: my simple blue sundress.
It may not be as expensive as the others hanging near it, but it is priceless in my eyes. As I slip it on, I actually start to feel better. I start to feel like the old me. The old me I have been trying to run away from for so long.
Slipping on my nude color sandals, which add a few inches to my frame, I am now roughly eye level with my wedding partner, a fact that has me smiling the whole way to the wedding venue.
As I reach the venue, I can see that the long driveway bends up to a mansion that has been renovated, and turned into a romantic wedding reception. Stepping out of my car, I stare up at the place V and Lucas are to be married at. It is awe-inspiring.
The huge white mansion which is called, The Mayfair, has wide bay windows across the front of the house, with a single candle burning brightly in each room. The only word I can use to describe this venue is, romantic. I feel like I am a damsel in distress, waiting to be swept off my feet by a Southern Gentleman.
Turning to my right, I see V standing in a beautiful garden under an elegant white arch, which is glowing brightly with fairy lights. I’m guessing that is where we are to start our descent down the aisle. As she sees me, she waves me over frantically, and I can feel her happiness from here. Holding back my tears of joy, I walk over to her, not able to wipe the smile off my face.
“What do you think?” she asks, biting her lip apprehensively when I am a few feet away.
Looking around the garden where the ceremony is to take place, I smile. “It's beautiful. I love it.”
V jumps up and down, pulling me into a tight hug.
“I feel like I'm freakin’ Scarlet O’Hara,” I joke.
“Well in that case, there is Rhett Butler,” replies V, nodding her head towards the lake.
Peering over at the boathouse, I see Jasper having a cigarette while overlooking the lake. I doubt my response to him will ever change. He will always make me feel like a million butterflies have taken flight in my belly.
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“How are you two going?” V asks while looking at Jasper.
Shrugging, I chuckle lightly. “By the way, remind me why I shouldn’t wring your neck for your little set up the other day.”
V hides her amusement, and twirls her solitaire engagement ring. “Someone had to, seeing as you two are both hopeless.”
I smile at her because I am not angry.
“Thank you for being a meddlesome pain in my rear end.”
V lets out a chuckle. “Any time. It's a hobby of mine.”
I turn around to see a hip young guy stroll towards us, extending his hand to V. “Hello Veronica. You ready to get married?”
V smiles broadly. “You betcha Mark. Let me go get my hubby to be and we will get this show on the road.”
Mark takes his place at the front of the rotunda, pulling out paperwork and a portable microphone. I think it’s safe to presume that Mark is going to marry Lucas and V, and I couldn’t have chosen a better candidate myself.
Jasper is still standing near the jetty with his head bowed, and his hands are tucked deep into his jeans pockets. I can see by the way his shoulders are hunched that he is as apprehensive as I am. V waves me over to where she and Lucas are standing with Mark, and I figure the quicker I get this rehearsal over with, the better.
Strolling over, V introduces me to Mark. “This is my Maid of Honor, Ava Thompson.”
“Lovely to meet you Ava,” Mark says while shaking my hand.
“You too,” I reply.
“Now, where is the best man?” Mark asks, clueless to the situation.
Lucas sighs. “I’ll just go get him.” And he heads off down the hill to go get Jasper.
I look over V, who gives me a sympathetic smile, and when I sneak a peek at Lucas, who is talking to Jasper, my heart sinks when I see him shaking his head.
V notices their exchange and throws her hands up in defeat. “Excuse me.”
She stomps down the hill to where the boys are talking and before I know it, she is pointing her finger into Jasper’s face, giving him her famous Veronica Donovan Death Stare.
Surrender to Me (I Surrender Trilogy Book 2) Page 12