Best Man for the Wedding Planner

by Donna Alward

  She came through the door, cheeks rosy from the cold, her eyes brighter and more alive since the last time he saw her. The flu seemed to have run its course. She smiled at him, her eyes made bluer by the pale blue of her thick scarf. Lord, she was pretty.

  “Hi,” he said, smiling back. “Thanks for meeting me.”

  “No problem,” she answered, unwinding the scarf from around her neck. “It’s a great choice for lunch.”

  A table opened up and they snagged it before anyone else had a chance. “Busy,” he observed.

  “It’s a tourist town, and this is ski season. You get a blend of locals and visitors in here. Tourists for lunch, locals for the baked goods. I’ll be leaving with a loaf of sourdough.”

  They ordered sandwiches and drinks and he looked at her again. How could she be so relaxed when he was in knots? “You look recovered,” he said.

  “I slept most of Sunday and into Monday. Thank you for the fruit basket, by the way. And my friend Harper—the photographer from the wedding—brought me soup. I took it easy and ate well and now I just have a lingering cough. Nothing serious. It was short but nasty.”

  “You scared me to death when you fainted.” Watching her eyes roll and her knees buckle had made his heart miss a beat. It had only taken a second to lunge forward and catch her. Wise or not, there was no way he wanted her to go home alone when she was clearly so ill.

  Their drinks came and he lifted his cup. She did the same, took her first sip, and then put it down and met his gaze evenly. “So, why did you ask me here, Dan?”

  He swallowed the hot liquid and regretted it, as it burned its way down his throat. He coughed and reached for his napkin, and then his water glass. When he looked up again, her eyes were twinkling at him. She’d enjoyed his discomfort and he couldn’t really say he blamed her. He’d kind of put her on the spot with the invitation.

  “I wanted to apologize. Things got heated Sunday morning and I didn’t like how we left things.” He paused, turning his coffee cup around in a circle on the table. Then he looked up again and admitted what had been on his mind for the last two days. “When we broke up, it was very...acrimonious. I didn’t want to do that this time. If we’re going to say goodbye, I would like it to be on friendly terms.”

  At her confused look, he amended, “I mean, when we say goodbye, of course.”

  “Of course. Because you’re only here until...”

  “Sunday night. Then a stop at the Calgary offices for a few days and back to Toronto.”

  Five more days. He had plans for some skiing and hiking, plus a soak in the hot springs. It had sounded relaxing and somewhat idyllic just a week ago, in the few days before the wedding. Now it was colored with facing Delly again and the tug-of-war of wanting to know the truth and knowing it would probably be better to stay away.

  She sipped at her water instead of reaching for her coffee. “So, you asked me here to...what? Apologize? Extend an olive branch?”

  “I lashed out on Sunday morning, and it was unfair. Particularly since you were feeling so rotten.”

  Their sandwiches came and they halted their conversation as the waitress put the plates down on the table and asked if they needed anything else. When she was gone again, Dan tried once more. “I blamed you back then for ruining my life. Of course you didn’t,” he hurried to assure her, and he meant it. He had a good life. A great career. Nothing was ruined, but rather just tarnished. “I have a good life. I’m happy.”

  “So you’ve said,” she replied, her face unreadable.

  “And I started blaming you again when I saw you last week in the lobby of the Cascade. The truth is, you left and you must have had a good reason, and me lashing out is just a case of...pride.”

  Well, that and a wounded heart, but he wasn’t going to bring that up again.

  “I see,” she said, this time reaching for her coffee. She lifted the cup and he frowned a little. Was she hiding behind it? The foam at the top jiggled a little, as if her hand was shaking. Was it? Was she more discomposed than she let on?

  “You did have a good reason, right?” he asked, toying with a pickle slice on the side of his plate.

  She put down her cup. “I did, Dan. I promise I did. And I know I hurt you, but truly it was to save you more pain down the road.”

  Quiet surrounded them again. When it was clear she wasn’t going to elaborate, he defiantly picked up his sandwich and took a bite.

  He assumed it was delicious, but the flavor was a bit lost on him now that things had turned awkward. He’d give anything for things to be, well, easier between them again. It would probably never happen, so he finished half his meal before looking up at her again.

  Tears shimmered in her eyes as she bit into her sandwich, chewed and swallowed so thickly it looked painful.

  His heart seemed to plummet right to his stomach. Crying? Delly? She rarely cried. Never really had. He’d only seen her cry twice before. Once when they broke up, and once at Christmas, when her mom had been going to drive down to Toronto from Sudbury and hadn’t made it because of weather. She’d grown up the very independent child of a very independent single mother and wasn’t prone to tears. That she was so close now unmanned him.

  “Delly,” he said gently, ignoring his “pride” and reaching across the table. He circled her wrist with his fingers and she put the sandwich back on the plate. “What is it? I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  She shook her head, and two small tears were shaken loose from her lower lids. They dropped down her cheeks, and she gave a small sniff and then cleared her throat. With her free hand, she reached for her napkin and dabbed her cheeks.

  “Does this have to do with the reason you left?” he asked, hesitation making his throat tight.

  “I can’t talk about it. Not here.” Her voice was a strident whisper, pleading with him to change the subject. But he couldn’t, not yet. He had to know one thing first. Something that had weighed on his mind ever since that awful spring day.

  “Was there someone else, Delly? Did you fall out of love with me and in love with someone else? I’ve wondered all these years—”

  But his words were cut off by Adele rising abruptly, grabbing her jacket off the back of the chair and rushing outside, leaving her lunch half eaten.

  He sat for a moment, unsure of what to do. Go after her? Maybe, but was her exit a tacit admission? What if she had regrets? What then? And he couldn’t just run out without paying the bill. He didn’t have cash on him, so he got up from the table and approached the counter, suddenly weary. He’d wanted to apologize. To leave things less acrimonious than they’d been. Instead he’d upset her and made things worse than ever.

  It seemed to take forever for the woman behind the counter to ring through his debit card. He pocketed the receipt and headed out the door, not hopeful he’d see Adele. She was probably long gone by now. He pulled his phone from his pocket, considered sending her a text, but then put it back. Usually he was decisive, making important decisions and following through without second-guessing. But with Delly, it had never been easy. Why was that? he wondered.

  Hands in his pockets, he walked down the street toward the small parking lot at the edge of the park. He was nearly to the museum when he saw the flash of her scarf, a bright bit of blue in the white-and-gray day. She was walking, but her arms were wrapped around her middle, as if protecting herself from the cold...or something else. He’d upset her again. And he was beginning to understand that the only way to break the pattern was to hash out the truth once and for all.

  Throat tight and heart pounding, he set off to catch up to her.

  * * *

  Adele huddled into herself as she made her way over the snow to...somewhere. A bench, the gazebo, maybe. The air was cold and not many people were wandering the park today, all either in the shops or on the ski hills. She just needed to keep walking. To let the bite o
f the winter air jolt her out of the idea that Dan thought she might have cheated on him. And yet, what was he supposed to think, when she’d never explained? She couldn’t blame him, but it still hurt.

  The gazebo was empty; the day was too cold for many people to be sitting outside. But not her. She’d welcome the frigid temperatures. Maybe punishing herself would somehow make her feel better.

  “Adele.”

  Her body tensed as Dan’s voice echoed behind her. She should have known he’d come after her. There was simply no escaping him this week. The pit in her stomach grew heavier. She was going to have to tell him. It was the only way he’d give her some peace. And the only way she’d have peace, too. Years of avoiding it had allowed her to push the memories to the back of her mind. Almost as if it had never happened. Looking forward, rather than back.

  There was no avoiding it now. Denial was a fickle witch.

  His boots sounded on the gazebo steps and he made his way to the bench, sitting heavily beside her.

  And said nothing. Just sat there, his elbows on his knees, probably with thoughts racing through his head, as they were in hers. Wondering what was the right thing to say.

  She looked out over the Bow River and sighed. “There was no one else, Dan. I promise. I didn’t love anyone...” Her voice caught a little. “I didn’t love anyone but you.”

  His breath came out in a whoosh. “Is it wrong that I’ve wondered all this time?”

  She shook her head, still not looking at him. “No, of course not. In the absence of information, we create our own. Or at least our own doubts.” Her heart sank. “I’m starting to wonder if I did the right thing after all.”

  She could feel his gaze on her profile. “You mean breaking up?” he asked, and she wondered if he sounded a little breathless or if that was all in her head.

  “No,” she admitted. “But not telling you why. The real reason why.”

  She looked over her shoulder. The park was still mostly empty, save a few tourists around the perimeter. She and Dan were blocked by the wind inside the gazebo. She laughed a little, a bitter sound that bit into the frosty air. “Do you know I’ve planned weddings that took place right here in this gazebo? It seems so strange right now.”

  Dan just waited, silent. Words collected in her throat in a jumbled-up mess of justifications and excuses, but she couldn’t make herself say them.

  Finally, she let out a breath and chanced a look at Dan. His jaw was set and he looked so...unhappy. Not angry, not sad. Just unhappy, and the time had come to be honest.

  “Dan, there’s a lot I need to explain. If you can just wait for me to finish, instead of interrupting me, it would help. I think I need to get this all out in one go so you understand.”

  He met her gaze. “Still setting conditions,” he said quietly. “But all right. If you couldn’t be honest then, and it upsets you so much now, I guess it must be a big deal.”

  She nodded. Clutched her fingers together inside her mittens in her pockets. “Okay...”

  A quick swallow, an inhale and she finally said the words she’d kept from him for so long.

  “In March of our last year of university, I had a checkup at the doctor’s because I’d been having weird period symptoms. I’d never had a pap test before. We’d been together since first year, no other partners. I was young. But it came back abnormal, so I went for a biopsy, and it came back positive for cervical cancer.”

  She heard his sharp intake of breath but plowed on, determined. “Finals were coming up. We were graduating. But I was so distracted. Meanwhile your family was planning grad events and talking about the prospect of new babies in the family and I... I just saw you in the middle of all that and got so scared.”

  He looked up at her and opened his mouth, but she held up a hand. “Not yet,” she cautioned. “Let me finish. I had scans. Visits to the oncologist, and a treatment plan. Surgery...scheduled for May, after grad. They were hopeful they could just do a simple procedure. But then a scan showed more tissue involvement, and I was scheduled for a hysterectomy.”

  “A hysterectomy?” Dan did speak up then, his voice breathless with shock. “My God, Delly. You kept this all to yourself?”

  “Wait,” she pleaded, not wanting to get to this part of the conversation yet. She had to get through the medical stuff first. “I knew what the surgery meant. No children for me. Not ever. I asked if there was a way around it, but no. Hysterectomy was the only way. The follow up treatment—radiation—would possibly harm my ovaries, so it was suggested that I harvest some of my eggs and freeze them. I didn’t. I was twenty-one. What was I going to do with frozen eggs? I wouldn’t have a uterus to carry a baby, anyway.”

  She looked over at him, trying to ignore the stricken look on his face. “Your family is so big and happy. Your parents couldn’t wait for grandkids. Your sisters were already talking about starting families. For God’s sake, your mom had blankets crocheted for future grandchildren. I already felt intimidated when we were with them, coming from the background I did. I didn’t have siblings or a big happy family...and I saw your face every time your cousins came over with their little ones. Having a family was so important to you. And it was something I could never, ever give you.”

  She hesitated. It was out. Nearly all of it. Her stomach was a mess of nerves, tangled and painful. Saying the words out loud transported her back to those days, sitting alone in the doctor’s office, her stomach already feeling empty and...barren, even before the surgery.

  “Did you think I’d leave you?” The edge in his voice was sharp. “Is that how little you thought of me? That after three years, I wouldn’t stand by you? Did you even know me at all?”

  He jumped up from the bench and paced to the railing. A pointed curse left his lips and he hung his head. “You lied, Delly. You stood in front of me and told me you didn’t feel the same as you used to. That we were better off apart.” He swore again and ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t even... My God.”

  “I didn’t lie,” she said quietly, her fingers clenched so tightly now, they hurt. “I meant every word I said. I didn’t feel the same because I wasn’t the same. I wasn’t in charge of my own damned body, don’t you see? Bits and pieces of me were going to be cut away. Everything changed in those moments! Everything! And while the prognosis was good, in every cancer patient’s mind there comes a moment when they wonder if this is it. Or if a recurrence will hit them from nowhere. Learning I would never have children was devastating enough. But I faced my mortality, Dan. When I was barely more than a kid.”

  “You didn’t have to do it alone!”

  Her breath hitched. “I know. I knew you would stand by me. You would have gone to every appointment and been there when I woke up from surgery. And I knew that every time I’d look in your eyes, it would be with the knowledge that I could never give you the family you wanted. And that one day you would resent me for it. Hate me, maybe. I couldn’t stand that. You...you needed to be with someone who could give you all the things I couldn’t, so I set you free.”

  “Free? You think I’ve been free?”

  The anguish in his words tore through her gut. “Haven’t you been? You’ve dated. You’ve been free to marry someone, have children... Don’t you still have those options?” Frustration bubbled up and then out of her mouth. “At least you still have those options, Daniel! I don’t. I never will.”

  Silence fell in the little gazebo. A couple who was walking along the river path had stopped and looked up when they heard her raised voice, and now resumed their stroll.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to shout. It’s just... I left because I thought doing so was the kindest thing I could do for you. Just because I couldn’t have a family didn’t have to mean that you couldn’t.”

  “You might have told me why.”

  Oh, the bitterness. It sliced into her like she alw
ays knew it would, but perhaps this was like lancing an old wound. At some point, you had to let the crappy stuff out so it could heal properly. It was an ugly, messy business.

  So she inhaled, exhaled slowly, got up and walked to where he stood. She put her hand on his arm. “I thought about it. And I knew you’d try to change my mind. Insist it was no big deal and we could deal with it together. And I’ll confess, you probably would have been able to convince me. It was so painful, leaving you. The only thing that kept me going was knowing that I was giving you a...a gift. The chance to have the kind of life we never could together.”

  “You don’t see me having that life now, do you?” he asked, the bitterness still ringing in his voice. “Do you want to know why? Because I don’t trust anyone. I get just so close and then I break it off before they can leave me. That’s what you did to me, Adele. Some gift.”

  He made a scoffing sound and turned away. She bit down on her lip and fought back against the tears that threatened. “That wasn’t my intention,” she murmured, her breath forming a tiny cloud in front of her face. “I was twenty-one, Dan. We were so young. I’d never had to navigate a relationship like ours before. And cancer changed everything. It seemed like a lot to ask of a guy who was just getting his undergrad.”

  “So you made the choice for me. Nice.”

  “Can you please try to understand my feelings on this?”

  His gaze snapped to hers. “I can’t understand anything right now. I’m still trying to make sense of it in my head.” He started to back away. “I need to go. I’m going back to the hotel. I need to think. I’m sorry, Adele.”

  Back to Adele—not Delly. He was upset. Angry, certainly. And probably confused. She’d had years to think about this, and he’d just had it all dumped in his lap.

  “Of course. I understand.”

  Two words. Two words she’d wanted him to utter, but knew now he never would. He’d never understand why she’d made the choices she had. And he probably wouldn’t forgive her, either. But now it was all out in the open.