The Bastard Takes a Wife

by Lindy Dale

  “You stitched up his face? What happened to his face?”

  “From what I gather there was some sort of altercation on the field.”

  In other words, Sam had been shooting his mouth off again and someone had finally decided to whack him.

  “Can I see him?”

  “Of course. He’s in the last cubicle on the right. You can stay until he gets discharged if you like. I’ll come back in an hour and we’ll get it organised.”

  Not if I killed him first. Now that I knew Sam wasn’t going to die, he was on borrowed time.

  Behind the curtain, stretched out on the bed, Sam looked rather small and frankly, a little bit pitiful. It was like someone had taken his big hulking body and replaced it with Rambo’s weedy one. His face was bloodied and bruised. One of his eyes was swollen shut and his lip was the size of a cricket ball. I almost felt sorry for him until I remembered I was seething.

  He lifted his hand and reached out to me.

  “Babe.” Even his voice sounded small.

  “Don’t you ‘Babe’ me, Sam. This is the last straw.”

  He winced as he pushed himself to sitting. “Don’t be mad at me. It’s not my fault. Their winger got a little excited and decided to thump me.”

  “Not without provocation, I imagine. And anyway, it’s not the injuries I’m angry about. Your mother will have plenty enough to say about how you’ve ruined the twenty thousand dollar photo package for both of us. I was worried that you were hurt, that’s all. When Johnny rang me from the ground, I was so panicky I couldn’t reverse out of the drive without stalling the car. I haven’t done that since I was seventeen.”

  “That’s because you drive Adele’s auto SUV everywhere. You can’t stall an automatic car.”

  Even with a broken head he was a smartarse.

  “Shut up. I’m trying to say I wouldn’t have wanted anything to happen to you.”

  Funnily enough, Sam looked relieved at this. His thumb rubbed softly over my knuckles.

  “Don’t you want to know why I didn’t want anything to happen?”

  “I assumed it was because you loved me. Is there another reason?”

  “I wanted you to be alive so I could strangle you.” I couldn’t hold it in any more. I pulled my hand away. The emotion of it all was too much. The worry, the stress of this freakin’ wedding, feeling like crap every minute of the day. It was too much. I began to yell.

  “I can’t believe you would do this!”

  “Do what?”

  “For fuck’s sake, you promised me you wouldn’t play today. You knew how much I’ve sacrificed over this stupid wedding and yet you couldn’t give up one day so your face could stay in tact for the photos next week especially after the black eye you got the other week has only just gone. You know full well your mother will blame me for this and I can’t take it. I can’t take anymore.”

  “But they needed me.”

  “And I need you, too. You’re so insensitive. Through this whole thing, you’ve done nothing but laugh every time something went wrong or stick your head in the sand while I copped the shit. The only time you showed me you loved me was when you thought you were going to lose me to Josh. And I don’t know if that’s because you loved me or because you were jealous.”

  “But I do love you. You know I do. You’re my whole world.”

  “You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

  “Mill’.”

  “No. I’ve had enough of your stupid excuses and practical jokes and you’re putting rugby before me. I can’t marry you. The wedding’s off.”

  Reaching down, I fingered my engagement ring. Slowly, I twisted it on my finger. Shit. The damn thing wouldn’t come off. Seriously, what that hell was wrong with me? Surely, I hadn’t gained weight in my fingers as well? I tugged and tugged but the ring was stuck firm.

  “Looks like you’ll have to marry me,” Sam said.

  “Oh shut up! This is not a joke. I’m not marrying you and when I get home and get this ring off you can have it back.”

  And with that I stormed off down the corridor.

  *****

  When I got back to the house, Mum was sitting in the family room having a cup of tea with Adele. Mum was possibly the only woman in Perth who still drank tea, I think. She didn’t care. She said it made her feel individual.

  As I attempted to slam the sliding door, they looked over from their conversation.

  “Millie, your mother and I were finalising the details of our outfits for next Saturday. We don’t want to clash.”

  “Or be too matchy-matchy,” Mum added.

  “Don’t bother,” I scowled. “The wedding’s off. I wouldn’t marry Sam Brockton if he were the last man on Earth. In fact, I’d rather marry Womble.”

  “Who’s Womble?” my mother asked, confused.

  “It doesn’t matter, Mum. I’m not getting married, that’s all.” I burst into tears. Again. Then I raced for the stairs and my room. I had to get that ring off. Suddenly, it felt as if it were cutting off my ability to breathe or think or something.

  Half an hour later, finger red raw from soap-assisted pulling and twisting and the ring back in its box, I made my way downstairs. Adele and Mum were sitting in the same spot I’d left them in, holding their cups aloft as if the moment I’d told them Sam and I weren’t getting married had frozen time.

  I scrooched into a spot on the couch next to Mum. I had this overwhelming urge to be a little girl again and have her tell me it was going to be okay or give me a hug and a kiss on the top of my head.

  She put her cup of tea down and placed an arm around my shoulder. “Are you alright?” she asked.

  “Not really.”

  “What happened?”

  It came out in floods, big heaving sobbing floods ~ how Sam had, once again, disregarded any feelings I might have by playing rugby the week before our wedding. He couldn’t even give up the stupid game for one day. The fact that he’d got hurt was secondary. It was the fact that he’d gone behind my back that had been the final blow.

  “And you want to call off the wedding?”

  “And the engagement?”

  “Are you breaking up with Sam?”

  I sat up and wiped my nose on my sleeve. “I guess I am.”

  Adele looked horrified that I had used my sleeve as a tissue. “I think you need to take some time to think things through. You don’t want anger and hurt to fuel a hasty decision. When you’re calmer and more rational, things might seem different. We don’t want to make a mountain out of a molehill. It might be pre-wedding jitters.”

  “I agree,” Mum added. “Why not sleep on it? It’s not like we can ring anyone before Monday, anyway. You may have changed your mind by then.”

  I let them talk me into it. Then, legs like marble, I plodded up the travertine staircase to smother myself with my doona because I knew I’d never change my mind. Sam and I were through.

  *****

  Like a complete coward, I stayed in my room for the remainder of the weekend with my mobile turned off. I was too scared to turn it on because I knew Sam would ring and I couldn’t talk to him. Not yet.

  On the bedside table the ring sat in its box, glinting evilly at me in the sunlight. I should have closed it up but it was so pretty, I wanted to have a few last looks before I gave it back. And I’d have to do that. There was no way I was going to wear the tag with Sam’s family of being the girl who broke his heart and kept the ring. It was bad enough they thought me a gold digger.

  On Monday morning, pale and subdued, I bundled the children into the car for the morning school run. Earlier, I’d rung Sam and told him I wanted to have a chat. He’d sounded groggy on the other end of the phone but also worried and we’d agreed to meet at one before I had to pick Paige up from school early for a dental appointment.

  “Are you and Sam getting a divorce?” Paige asked, from the back of the car. We were stopped at the lights, so I turned over my shoulder.

  “No, we’re not marri
ed, so it’s not a divorce but yes, I am going to break up with him.”

  “Why? Don’t you love him anymore?”

  How did I explain this to a child? Tapping my nails on the steering wheel. I stared out into the traffic considering my answer. “It’s not about love. Sam told me a big lie. It hurt me a lot.”

  From over my shoulder I heard a small derisive snort, not unlike the type Adele often gave. “Is that all? Gosh, I thought he was doing the dirty on you or something.”

  “Paige!”

  “Jennifer Brayshaw-Jones said people always do that stuff. Her sister dropped her fiancé like hotcakes when she caught him at it with the au pair.”

  “Do you even know what that means?”

  “What?”

  “Doing the dirty.”

  “No, but I think its something to do with mud or jelly. I asked Mummy and she said it was like being dirty in mud, like those girls I saw wrestling in jelly on Foxtel when I wasn’t supposed to know the code for the grown-ups channel. That’d be right. Jennifer’s sister is sooo O.C.D. She’d have a breakdown if there was mud or jelly on her.”

  I shook my head. Sometimes I had to remind myself that the child was seven. Barely.

  The lights changed and I looked back to the road. I put on the indicator and steered the Range Rover into the other lane. Time to change the subject. “So I’ll pick you up at one. You’ve got your permission note?”

  A huge sigh echoed around the car. “Yes. But do I have to go? Can’t I stay home and watch that One Direction interview? It’s on this afternoon. They’re in Australia for the Logie Awards, you know.”

  Now she was a TV guide.

  “Yes, I did know and I’ve set the TV to record it for you so we can watch it after the dentist. And anyway, I thought you only loved Justin Bieber.”

  “Well, I did when I was six but now I’m older I love One Direction. Liam is very cute. Jennifer likes Harry but I don’t like his hair. Liam has hair like Sam.”

  “I must tell him.” It would be something to soften the blow after I gave him the ring back.

  Paige sighed again.

  “You know, it’s a pity I didn’t know that you and Sam were not being boyfriends and girlfriends anymore. I wanted to go to the Logies to meet Liam.”

  “The Logie Awards are in Sydney, Paige. It’s four hours by plane from Perth.”

  “Well, I know that, silly, but Jennifer asked me to go with her. Her mum’s assistant got some tickets for the Red Carpet but because you were getting married, I said no. Now you’re not getting married and I’m not having a tiara or high heels or anything. And Jennifer’ll meet One Direction and I won’t. She always beats me at everything.”

  From the driver’s seat, I smiled. “Oh well, we can’t always have what we want in life.”

  “I wish Daddy had a plane like Jennifer’s family. I’d just fly there and meet them and be the winner.”

  I pulled the car into the car park and undid my seat belt. “I imagine you’d like that.”

  Paige didn’t answer. She was off in her own seven-year-old world somewhere.

  Chapter 21

  

  At lunchtime, I met up with Sam. I’d never felt so sick in my life. I did love him, truly I did, but somewhere deep down in my heart, there was this icky feeling sending waves of nausea around my insides. It was the feeling of indecision, of sadness and finality and I knew I had to take notice of it. Well, I didn’t have a choice. Every time I pictured Sam and I walking down that aisle next Saturday, I rushed to the toilet. And the fact that he’d withheld something from me ~ again ~ made me even more apprehensive. It wasn’t good.

  I squeezed myself into the booth next to him. The warmth of his thigh against mine and the fresh smell of his shirt filled my nostrils but it did little to calm me. My lip was trembling at the thought of ending it with him or even worse, not ending it. Still, I was resigned to my decision. It was for the best, for us both.

  I stared up into Sam’s face. For once he wasn’t smiling or smug.

  “Hi.”

  “Hey.”

  “So, um, I wanted to give you this….” The ring box had been searing this great huge hole in my jeans pocket. It felt like I was being branded. I took it out and placed it on the table in front of us. “I meant what I said on Saturday. I can’t marry you.”

  Sam looked down at the box. His eyebrows drew together in a quizzical yet sort of resigned look. His eyes were very sad. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  I knew he’d dismissed my anger and threats at the hospital as a heat of the moment thing. But I’d had two days to mull it over.

  “Yes.”

  “Is this because of my mother?”

  “No! But you have to admit she has been pretty mean to me.”

  “I’ll tell her to back off.”

  “It won’t make any difference. I can’t marry you. It’s too hard being with you.”

  Sam’s eyes welled up. Oh shit, he was going to cry. I couldn’t deal with it if he was going to cry.

  “I’m sorry, Mill’. Please. I am. I’ll never do anything annoying ever again if you’ll forgive me. I’ll even dance with you and let you watch Kate Hudson movies. Just say you love me and we can get married.”

  “The annoying I can deal with. And the bastardiness. But the lying hurt.”

  “I never lied to you.”

  “You did. You said you wouldn’t play and then you went and did it.”

  “Technically, that wasn’t a lie. I just didn’t tell you.”

  I glared at him.

  Sam winced as if he was in pain. “Look, it was a team thing. Can’t you understand? They needed me. Half the team were down with flu, I had to get out there.”

  “You’re not five, Sam. A bunch of boys can’t make you do anything. And if you want to know, wedding stuff aside, what worries me is the fact that you put the team in front of me. If you loved me, I’d be number one. You wouldn’t have considered playing, not even if you were offered a contract with the Force for a day.”

  “But…”

  “No. No more ‘buts.’ The wedding is off. I love you. I do. But I can’t do this anymore.”

  Tears were spilling out of Sam’s eyes, right over his big swollen cheekbone and into his stitches. I couldn’t look. It was breaking my heart. Sliding the ring box into his palm, I pressed my lips softly to his cheek and shifted along the bench to the end of the booth.

  “Goodbye, Sam.”

  *****

  I don’t know how I drove back to school to collect Paige. I don’t remember leaving the café or starting the car or even parking it. All I could think of was Sam and the look on his face as I’d left. It had taken years for him to get over the pain of his previous relationships and now I’d done it to him again. I’d told him I’d marry him and reneged at the last minute. I was no better than those gold diggers who’d been after his money. In some ways I might have been worse. I mean, at least they were clear in their agendas. I’d said one thing and meant another.

  Blinking my tears away, I pulled down the visor, attempting to put some right back into my reflection before I went to collect Paige. She’d be the first to notice if I didn’t look somewhere near normal and I didn’t want to be explaining the ins and outs of this to her as we sat in the Dentist’s office. I didn’t have the energy.

  I pulled a tissue from my bag and dabbed at my eyes, taking away the black mascara blotches. God, how had this happened? Four months ago, Sam and I were happy and in love. We were planning an intimate wedding with friends and family that had turned into a fiasco. Instead of doing what we wanted, we’d compromised to make our families happy. I’d turned from an easy-going girl in love to a neurotic wreck. Sure, Sam may have been driving me insane by pretending the wedding didn’t exist or by agreeing with every suggestion to keep the peace but I was just as guilty. I’d got so caught up in making people happy, I’d lost sight of what the wedding was about.

  Us.

  Over the la
st four months, I’d become so confused I didn’t even know which ideas were mine or what I was saying. Things blurted out of my mouth of their own accord like I never thought about anything. And every decision, no matter how well pondered, seemed to be the wrong one. One minute I loved Sam, then I wanted to wring his neck. I wanted a small cake but ordered one the size of the Opera House. I didn’t care about dresses but ended up with a custom designed one. It was so unlike me. And now I’d done the worst thing of all. I’d broken Sam’s heart. Over a stupid game of rugby and a teeny white lie. God, what had I done?

  Then I realised… I’d been so irrational I hadn’t seen that it was the actual wedding that was freaking me out. It wasn’t Sam. If we could get married quietly and simply, then I’d gladly be Sam’s forever. I would marry him, for better or worse, rugby and all. My mind was made up. After I’d dropped Paige back home, I’d find him. I’d explain the things I hadn’t known until that moment. I’d tell him, I’d marry him anywhere he liked as long as it wasn’t some whizzbang affair. I’d apologise and tell him I’d been wrong, that all I wanted was him. Too bad if his family didn’t like it. They could stay at home.

  But would he ever forgive me?

  Keys in my hand, I practically pranced up the limestone steps, opening the glass doors that lead into the reception area where the children waited when they were being picked up early. The nausea in my stomach was gone. A weight had lifted from around my neck.

  “Hi,” I said, approaching the Reception Desk. “I’m here to collect Paige Richards-Shaw to take her to her dental appointment.”

  The receptionist smiled at me. “Your name?”

  “Millie McIntyre.”

  The receptionist handed me an iPad loaded with some fancy screenwriting app and a virtual pen. “Just sign here. I’ll ring through to her French class. She should have come down by now.”

  She picked up the phone, pressing a button. I watched as she nodded. A frown formed between her brows. She covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “That was Paige Richards-Shaw? Right?”

  “Yes.”