The Only Choice (The Choices Trilogy #3)

by Palmer, Dee

  I hear the thud of his feet as he jumps down beside me, his eleven year old self still the same height as me so we are eye to eye. I can’t explain the feeling I have swirling in my belly when he stares at me with such intensity but I have felt unsettled for a little while now. “You’re worried about changing school and not seeing me every day.” I scoff at his words which sound like a brag. He can be so full of himself but I bite my lip when I see in his eyes he doesn’t mean it that way, not at all. “You will see me every day, your bus gets in after mine and I’ll be waiting for you.” He picks the end of my t-shirt and pulls it out flat and I hold the ends tight replacing my hands where his have been. He starts to collect the fruit and put it in my makeshift basket. “And you are worried about a whole bunch of other stuff that you shouldn’t not when you need to study. So I’m just saying, I’m gonna marry you and take care of you and stuff so quit worrying.”

  “Why are you going to marry me?” My T-shirt is filling with fruit and stretching the material beyond probable recovery. He holds one of the damsons in his hand carefully looking it over and gently rubbing the surface dust to reveal a deep purple gloss, turgid and juicy. He walks back to me and he looks in my eyes.

  “We’re both alone Bets but we don’t ever have to be lonely.” He hands me the fruit and I take it.

  “You have a huge family John.” My words are soft and they falter when I understand what he means. “I’m never lonely.” Because I’m always with John, even when I’m not. I take a bite of the delicious fresh fruit still warm from the tree, juice dribbling onto my already ruined t-shirt and hand the rest to John.

  “Me either.” He puts the small fruit in his mouth pip and all. This moment I feel as warm as the sun beating on our backs and as young as we were it was this moment our friendship changed.

  “Do you love me John?” I know he does but I would really like to hear the words.

  “No Bethany, I told you. I love Lara Croft.” He spits the pip from his mouth and grins but he wraps his scrawny arm around my scrawnier shoulders and we giggle and laugh together as we make our way back across the graveyard and home.

  It’s really early, the sun not quite peeking through the curtains in the guest room and I stretch luxuriously forcing my muscles to the point of pain before recoiling in satisfied exhaustion at the effort. Closing my eyes once more to try and hold the tender dream for a few moments longer but it slips beyond my desperate grasp leaving me just a little sadder than before, as if that was possible. I hear the click on my door, the soft swish of wood against deep pile carpet and the brief light streaks across the room and my closed lids. I feel the dip in the bed and feel the body crawl as close as possible without touching, as if that would prevent me waking up. “What’s up Sofs?” In the dark I turn my face to hers just making out the darker shadow.

  “Sorry Bets I didn’t want to wake you.” She whispers and I sniff a light laugh because we both know that’s not true. “It’s just that I’ve got cold feet.” Her words are softly spoken but I snap upright and twist to turn the light on. We are both blinking like a couple of moles in the dessert but when my eyes finally adjust I calmly ask her. “What!” It wasn’t calm, it was frantic. Her face is a picture of cool but her lips start to curl in a mischievous grin at the same time I feel the ice cold rush of her feet as they plant firmly against my legs. “Arghhh!! Fuck!” I squeal and jump back sliding to the edge of the bed away from her offending limbs, her feet are fucking freezing and she is giggling uncontrollably. “What the fuck Sofs!” I cry out as I rub warmth back into my legs and shiver at my unsuccessful effort. “Not funny!” I hate being cold but the sheer panic that raced through me actually stopped my heart. “Jeeze you scared the crap out of me. My life literally drained when I thought you actually meant . . . you know that you were having second thoughts” I hold my thumping chest as she looks at me like I am the mad one. “Seriously, if you had doubts about a match which was clearly made in heaven what chance would I have eh?” She continues to chuckle.

  “Ah come on Bets that was funny.” She rubs her feet vigorously on the bed, before snuggling back down tucking my quilt under her chin her big brown eyes smiling and sheepish.

  “On so many levels that was not funny.” I laugh and snuggle back too, leaving the light on because it will be light soon and the day will begin in earnest.

  “Sorry.” She yawns and her smile is so wide there is no way she believes her own words of apology but this is her day and so it begins for Princess Sofia.

  “Trouble sleeping?” I don’t know why I decide to whisper but it feels like our conversation might, in fact wake the household.

  “A little but not because of today.” She pauses.

  “You’re not worried about today sweetie because you know it will be perfect. I promise.” The planets have aligned and all the work and behind the scenes activity will guarantee it.

  “Oh no I’m not worried about today, I’m really excited . . . it’s going to be fun.” I can feel her excitement like it is a physical thing pulsating around her so I have no trouble believing her. “I’ve been a bad friend Bets. Marco told me Ethan bailed and that Daniel hasn’t been around much and I . . .”

  “—Hey!” I stop her. “You’re my best friend.” I waggle my head from side to side to indicate the fact that she is half of my best friend and she smiles, “and you are not to make any part of this day about me or I’ll be pissed and Marco will push you off the podium of joint best friend.” I warn.

  “Ok but as it’s my day, I want just this one conversation then no more Ok?” She pulls the ‘her day’ card like a master and I think this is going to be the longest twenty-four hours.

  “Ok but not much to tell.” She arches a brow at my lie and I wonder how much I can get away with telling her to appease her stubborn curiosity. “Ethan was only doing Marco and me a favour but Marco has a date so it’s no biggie. Besides Ethan has a girlfriend now and by his own admission it would be weird.” She nods at this but her penetrating eyes fix me at my obvious unfinished disclosure. I closed my eyes and draw in a deep breath but the air hurts my lungs and the ache of pure agony rushes through my nerves in waves and my eyes water. The visual verification of my sorrow is too much and Sofia shuffles and awkwardly wraps her arms around me kissing my hair and shhing my building sobs. I had been so proud that I had held my fragile state together in front of everyone and I am mortified I break today of all days. “I’m so sorry Sofs.” She pulls me tighter muffling my words against her.

  “You will be if you keep apologising.” She mutters and I sniff trying to rein back the onslaught of sadness. “So, no Daniel?” She pulls back to see that although I have held back the sobs the tears are still falling as I shake my head. “And you don’t want to talk about it?” I shake my head in absolute agreement. “Well, I’ll let this go today, but only because I’m selfish and don’t want my Maid of Honour red eyed and snotty in the photos.” I love that she can make me laugh even if she is serious. “But before I leave on honeymoon we are talking Ok? I’m away for nearly two months so we have to work your shit out before we go or you’re coming with us.” I nod because I really need to talk to someone and I can finally tell Sofia about the baby, my baby. The thought causes a shock to my system like a slap to my face. I need to get my shit together. I can’t be a blubbering mess, because once again I will have someone totally dependent on me and me alone. Sofia is looking at me intently as she assesses the grief laden emotions flashing across my face before the more familiar ones of resolve and determination settle. “You won’t be alone today Bets, I guarantee that.” She yawns and closes her heavy lids. I am thankful she has because I don’t have to pretend to smile. I thought I’d be sharing this day with Daniel. He was never just my plus one, he was my only one and without him I feel so fucking lonely.

  The morning is a blur as people fuss and gather; tweak and pamper, a steady stream of well-wishers dropping by before heading off to the church. Sofia is a picture of calm sat wrapped in
her silk gown with ‘The Bride’ scrolled in sparkly diamontes on the back, sipping on champagne as her cousin fixes her hair and make-up. I sit beside her as Aunt Marie fixes my hair in a half up mess of rich chestnut curls with tiny pearls sprinkled in the main swirl of hair. My makeup is light but I have had to use a calming concealer to hide the redness around my eyes and industrial strength waterproof mascara if I am to survive today without resembling chi chi the panda. I nurse my sparkling elderflower in the champagne glass and watch the scene around me. It is like a time lapse movie where everyone else is a distorted haze of movement but I’m just still and slightly out of focus. When did my life get so out of focus? Why did I let it get so out of focus? Stupid questions, stupid rhetorical questions because you do stupid things when you love someone so much you can’t focus on anything else. You make stupid choices and make stupid mistakes and some mistakes, some choices are unforgivable.

  The room has gone quiet and I look up to see Sofia standing with her mum. Vivienne has her handkerchief pressed against her eyes and is holding her daughters hand with the other, smiling, utter love expressed openly on her face and I feel my first real pang of loneliness. God I’m so selfish and I reprimand myself that I won’t forgive me either if I do anything to make Sofia sad on her day. I shake my head and physically pull myself together. I stand and walk over and take Sofia’s other hand.

  “Come on sweetie, let’s get you in that dress.” She nods and I can see her eyes pool with water. “Hey no tears you told me no puffy red eyes or snot remember?” I admonish her with a gentle nudge that has her laughing.

  “All right girls I’ll leave you to it and go and get Milly ready. She is fighting her mother every step of the way.” She sighs with exasperation. “I thought every little four year old girl would love to be a princess for the day, but not Milly. I swear she’ll be back in that God awful Chelsea junior football kit before the days through.” She grumbles as she leaves the room. I grimace because I am in charge of taming the tomboy, at least for the ceremony as Milly is the only other bridesmaid. Sofia decided that choosing the youngest niece was diplomatic and saved having something like sixteen bridesmaids. I take her new dress from the doorframe and gently unzip its protective cover. Its ivory lace fitted bodice is delicately decorated with fine handmade lace and the skirt is full length riot of organza and silk, ruffled, scooped and folded in on itself. It’s stunning. She has a fine lace veil that clips in the back of her hair with a diamond hair clip, both handed down from her mother’s family, old and borrowed.

  I stand back and we both stare wide eyed at each other trying to force back the inevitable tears. “Sofs you look—”

  “—Don’t you dare Miss!” She bites her lip and I mirror her move as I can feel mine tremble. I take a steady breath.

  “You’re right. Ok, well let’s just say you scrub up well.” We both laugh and the emotional magnitude of the moment dissipates instantly. “You ready?” She arches her brow and drags her eyes down my body with a disapproving scowl. I am wearing my pyjama bottoms and a skinny vest. “You don’t like my outfit?” I mock but I step out of her reach just in case she’s not up for jokes and judging by the continued scowl I was right to move. “This will take two minutes max. I needed to make sure you were already before I send your Dad in. So one last time got everything?” I watch as she does a quick mental list.

  “Shit!” Her eyes display genuine panic.

  “What? What’s wrong?” I step up to her because with all that material it’s an effort for her to move to me.

  “Blue, I don’t have anything blue, Fuck!” She snaps and I laugh but slap my hand at my mouth as she narrows her eyes at my insensitivity.

  “Sorry, but you do have your language, that’s pretty blue.” I snicker and she slaps me hard on my arm but laughs out too. I look at my hand and twiddle the tiny ring on the little finger on my left hand. The one with the small silver band with a heart shaped twist with tiny blue stones that never pretended to be anything precious but was more precious than any stones. John gave me this ring on my sixteenth birthday, a promise ring not an engagement ring he said because an engagement was a period of time and this ring was a promise of a lifetime. I have cried a lifetime of tears, and because of me that promise went un-kept. My unbearable sadness I hide today though, is that deep down I always thought that I would make that promise to Daniel and now I have ruined that too. I twist the ring from my finger instantly feeling its absence and hand it to Sofia, even as she shakes her head she holds her hand out. “You should wear this.” I try to smile but I can’t make my lips cooperate with the false emotion.

  “Bets I can’t.” She holds the ring in her palm. She knows I have never taken it off, not in four years, not once.

  “Don’t think you have a choice, Miss ‘you have to be at the church in forty minutes.’” I raise my brow as a challenge because faced with this, there really isn’t a choice for the sometime superstitious Sofia.

  “It’s a borrow though, a blue and a borrow. I can’t keep it.” She is adamant and I’m pleased because I couldn’t really bare to let it go.

  “I’ll pick it up when we meet before the honeymoon and before I leave on my travels.” I wink and head for the door.

  “Your travels? Well, you are definitely not travelling without telling me every detail young lady!” She shouts after me and I shout back passing her Dad, stopping to give him a brief peck on his pride filled cheek.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it!” I reply and dash into my room for my two minute turnaround.

  This wedding is very much a mix of traditional to appease her older relatives and modern to appease the bride. She wanted a new dress in favour of the traditional handed down gown and looking at her on the arm of Paul as they walk down the aisle toward the priest, she definitely made the right choice. She is stunning, breath-taking and all those other adjectives that fall short on such occasions. I stand at the front just beside Marco, his Mum and Dad and without exception we all have watery eyes. I squeeze Milly’s hand not sure why when she gives me a look that is confused and judgemental but she smiles when she realises my hand had nothing to do with a reprimand. The small church is crammed to the trusses with family and friends, standing room only at the back. Every exposed column and beam has been knotted and entwined with miles of ivory silk ribbon; flowers thread the aisle and fragrance the room with a subtle sweet scent. Paul fails miserably at his only job, to be the blank canvas for the bride because he looks sharp and elegant in his navy Armani suit. He also fails to hide is pride and pleasure as he escorts his future wife to the altar sporting the biggest smile I have ever seen.

  The ceremony is simple and once the glass is broken, the applause and cheers are deafening and the chaos and planned mayhem flows, a confetti storm outside the church, releasing the doves and walking around the gardens. The reception area is set for the cocktail hour for the guest while the family disappear for the photos. There is a very visible subsidence of tension once the ceremony is over, Sofia and Paul are all smiles and are now comfortably relaxed enough to really enjoy their day. I haven’t been to a wedding before but if they are all like this I can easily see what the fuss is about; a true celebration of coming together, family, friends and lovers. To have someone to share your life, just one person, to share all the joy, all your loves and fears, heartache and happiness; who wouldn’t want that? I stop myself before my raggedly emotional state gets carried away. I walk over to Marco who is equally dashing in his navy suit.

  “My sister must love you very much. You look stunning.” He leans in to kiss my cheek and takes my hand and holds it out to take an exaggerated look at me. My fitted silk court dress is very flattering, if a little tight across the bust now and the halter neck does nothing to soften my expanding chest. Still I’m grateful it fits and isn’t tartan because I know from my dream I looked hideous in tartan.

  “She was very kind, yes, maybe she was hoping to get me hooked up so I won’t be her spinster friend for too long.” I n
udge him and he tilts his head ignoring my joke. “Where’s your date?” I ask and he senses the panic as my eyes flash over to a gaggle of his Aunts all looking our way.

  “Don’t panic, she’s in the main reception with the other guests. We’re heading over shortly to the main welcome area before Sofs and Paul make their entrance.” He nods in the direction of the glass conservatory where the reception has been set up. I can hear the traditional band playing already in the distance.

  I sigh in relief all the same. “Phew! Just a quick panic. You know you did make it sound like there was going to be an army of single cousins for me to fight off but everyone’s coupled up. I’m not complaining, I’m glad but I had no idea these things were like this. I think I’m the only single one here.” My jokey quip falters and I hear the hitch in my voice. He wraps his strong arms around my shoulders but it’s not enough and he turns me and gives me a much needed full on hug. I sniff back a sniffle and breathe out a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m pathetic. I just didn’t think I’d be on my own.”

  “You’re not.” He reassures me and I nod into his chest.