by Shari Low
The memory of his last night in LA came flooding back, as vivid as the inflight movie she’d been watching until her seat buddy had struck up a conversation.
Her relationship with Jax had always been rocky, with enough drama to keep the tabloids busy. They’d been on one of their many splits, when Cammy came to stay with her the night before his flight, because he’d already given up the lease on his place.
They were up on the roof terrace of her apartment – a space that was small but glorious. Stacey had put a gorgeous rattan daybed up there, big enough for two, with side tables for drinks and sun cream. Or, in this case, bottles of beer and tacos from her favourite Mexican restaurant. She was in jeans and a vest top, her feet bare, and lying next to her, Cammy had on just a pair of shorts, the rest of his stuff packed away for the flight the next day. He’d picked up enough modelling and bar work to fund his time in LA and she could see why. His six-pack was cut to perfection. His shoulders wide. His grin infectious.
‘Will you miss it?’ she’d asked him.
‘What, LA?’
‘Yeah. The life here. Me,’ she’d added, laughing.
‘You, more than life itself,’ he’d teased. ‘The rest of it? Yeah, no doubt I’ll miss some things,’ he’d admitted, running his fingers through his hair. He always did that when he was perturbed or had something on his mind, so Stacey’s curiosity was piqued.
‘So why leave then? Stay and keep me company until they decide I’m an old hag and toss me out of the city. I’ve heard that happens the minute you turn forty.’
He took a sip of his beer. ‘That answers the question. I’m already hitting forty. Time to go home, be a grown-up. Do something with my life.’
‘And what about that stuff you’ll miss?’ It was a glib comment until the last word was said, and his gaze fixed on hers, his face so close she could feel the exhalation of his breath.
Something changed. She’d never know what. Maybe he just finally had a now or never burst of courage. But when they came, his words were no longer flippant and joking. They were soft, loaded with a depth of emotion that didn’t usually factor in their relationship.
‘Maybe one day she’ll realise we should be more than friends and she’ll come home too.’
Sledgehammer to the solar plexus, arrow right through the heart, as she realised what he was saying.
She was never sure if he kissed her first, or the other way around, but suddenly they were naked, they were making love and it was the most incredible, mind blowing sex she’d ever experienced.
They’d found their way to bed, made love again. ‘Have I mentioned that your timing sucks?’ she’d asked. ‘Why now? If you felt this way, why not mention the not so insignificant fact that you wanted to remove my underwear before now?’
He’d kissed her collarbone, her neck, her fingers. ‘Too much to lose. I couldn’t risk freaking you out and losing you.’
‘And now?’
‘Now you know. And now it’s up to you.’
‘Smashing. Great. No, really. Superb.’
His smile did things to her insides. In the name of all things platonic, what was happening here? It was like slipping into some kind of alternate universe, one where she found her best friend irresistibly sexy and could come up with absolutely no explanation as to why this had never happened before. Even his voice was turning her on now.
‘Look, Stacey, you have a great life here and I could never ask you to give that up. It’s time for me to go home and I know that, but I’m not sweeping in here and begging you to come with me. You’ve been my best friend for ten years and I love you. If you think we can make it work, you know where I’ll be. Either way, I’ll always love you. Christ, I came over all Dolly Parton there.’
Her laughter had been stopped by kisses, then hands, then tangled limbs, and they’d made love until the sun came up. He hadn’t asked her again, she hadn’t offered. This had to be thought through. She had a job, a life, a boyfriend here.
When she’d woken up the next morning, he was gone. Jax had appeared at the door an hour later, flush with apologies and promises of redemption. Unable to face another drama when she was already in the middle of an emotional shitstorm, she’d let him in, but held him at arms length, saying she needed time to think.
Cammy had called her when he landed.
‘How long?’ she’d blurted, as soon as she heard his voice.
He didn’t have to ask what she meant. ‘Years. Two or three.’
‘For God’s sake, Cammy – has anyone told you your communication skills need work?’
‘You. Many times.’
He had her there. She’d been telling him forever that he was way too laid back when it came to expressing his feelings. He blamed it on his Scottish genes. ‘It’s a part of the DNA,’ he’d tell her. ‘Like the ability to go out in sub zero temperatures wearing just a T-shirt, or track down a kebab shop at the end of a night out. It’s in the blood.’ And then he’d grin, and so would she because he was completely unfazed by his character flaw.
‘Jax came back,’ she’d admitted.
‘He’d have been a fool not to.’
‘Cammy, I don’t know what to do.’ How could she give up the life she’d worked so hard for here? But yet, how could she not explore this new landscape with Cammy?
‘Then do nothing,’ he’d told her softly. ‘I love you, Stace. You know where I am. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.’
‘You’re doing Doris Day now.’
‘I’m going to go before Celine Dion kicks in. Listen, I don’t want this to change things between us, so I’m not going to mention it again. Let’s just say it didn’t happen, unless you change your mind. I’ll be waiting. I love you.’
And then he was gone again.
She’d almost come back. Almost. But the following morning an offer had come in to do a six page photospread in Hawaii for the biggest selling car magazine, Jax had done the whole ‘post-split making an effort’ thing, the show’s shooting schedule had been crazy and…
So many excuses. All of them valid, all of them – as she looked back on it now – completely irrelevant. The truth was she’d been confused and pissed off with Cammy for blindsiding her. By the time she’d caught up, realised he was right, life had moved on. Since he’d left, they’d spoken once a month or so on the phone, just friendly chat, like two great old friends. True to his word, it was like that night had never happened and neither of them ever mentioned how they parted. However, every call cemented what she knew – she was in love with him, and by the time she was ready to tell him, he’d met Caro.
This was her last chance. She just had to steel up the courage to take it. Thinking about how she’d messed the whole thing up made her stomach tingle and her hands shake as she pushed the in-flight snack away.
She realised she’d left her answer hanging in the air, and her travel companion was politely waiting for something more. ‘An ex-roommate. And friend. I’m just not big on weddings,’ she added, not quite truthfully, but realising that didn’t quite cover her obvious reticence. A change of subject was required. ‘What about you? Why are you going to Glasgow?’
‘Two days of meetings there. I work for a menswear brand in LA and our next collection uses Scottish tweed. I’m going to meet with our supplier tomorrow to nail down some details.’
A menswear brand. That explained the snappy suit. Stacey was surprised at the timing though. ‘On a Saturday?’
He nodded, flashing that self-deprecating grin again. ‘It’s amazing how accommodating people can be when there’s a generous budget. And I need to get in and out in two days. Don’t want to risk not making it back for Christmas.’
A vision of this man, next to a picture-perfect wife, with two sweet little kids that looked just like mommy and daddy came to life in her head. Of course he needed to get back for Christmas. He was a normal guy with a normal life, not someone whose whole shiny existence was based on a lie because inside she was aching for the one miss
ing piece.
The flight attendant came by to clear their trays, giving Stacey momentary relief from having to make conversation. Moments later, the seatbelt sign came on, just as the pilot announced that there were ten minutes to landing.
‘Listen, I don’t know if it’s possible, and I swear I don’t ever do this, but would you have time to catch drinks or maybe dinner with me before I fly back on Monday?’
It was all Stacey could do not to roll her eyes. As if her life wasn’t complicated enough. ‘I’m sorry, but I have a boyfriend in LA. I don’t think he’d be too happy about that.’
Yep, the boyfriend. Sometimes she wondered if she’d ever really given her relationship with Jax a chance. Her feelings for Cammy had always held her back, yet the guilt of that had, in some ways, kept them together. It was the perfect ‘showmance’, great in the press, and sure they had a lot of fun together. Their sex life was sensational and underneath all his cocky arrogance – and if you overlooked his fairly typical LA self-obsession – he was a good guy. She couldn’t have stayed with him this long if he wasn’t. But soulmate? Forever love? He just didn’t make her feel that way. Unlike Cammy. Damn it.
The wave of nausea she was currently experiencing had nothing to do with the fact that the plane dipped suddenly as they came in to land in stormy weather. She’d walked out. Left Jax a note with just the briefest explanation. ‘Decided to go home to the wedding after all. Be back for Christmas,’ she’d written yesterday, before flying out of the door to make it to LAX for the booking she’d made only ten minutes before.
It had been a spur of the moment thing. A decision that was probably up there with Pretty Woman’s big mistake. Huge.
Jax had been filming down in Palm Springs, but Stacey reckoned he’d be getting home around now. It was too late to worry about how he’d react, but hopefully he’d be fine with it. She was pretty sure he had no idea how she felt about Cammy. Her acting skills had never threatened the future bank balance of Meryl Streep, but she’d always tried to pull off ‘casual and nonchalant’ when she’d spoken of him.
Not that it mattered.
Right now, the only thing that she cared about, that made her heart beat faster, was telling Cammy how she felt. The urgency had crept up on her, shifting her attitude from bitter regret to grasping at one last chance. When she’d woken up yesterday, she’d realised that she would never forgive herself if she didn’t at least let Cammy see the full picture. That’s why she was here this morning.
As the wheels of the plane touched down on a wet Glasgow runway, she took a deep breath and strengthened her resolve. She had to do it. There was no choice.
Today was the day that Stacey was going to tell Cammy Jones that she was in love with him.
Five
Website – www.itshouldhavebeenme.com
Members Discussion Forum
Post by member, screen name NotOverYet:
Okay, so the day has come. The love of my life is marrying someone else. Even typing that makes me want to scream. I know this is a forum for mutual support and consolation, but right now I don’t want to hear anything that will make me feel better. I’m pissed off and I’m heartbroken. Why isn’t it me? Why am I not the one sipping champagne and looking at the white dress hanging on the front of the wardrobe, waiting to say I Do in front of the world? I need to move on, to find someone else, to let him go.
Well, fuck that.
I’m not doing it. I want him and if he doesn’t want me, then at least I’m going down fighting. I’m going to that wedding today and I’m going to be heard. When you’ve got nothing left to lose, doing something is better than watching the future you dreamed of slip through your fingers.
Comments:
CarolSaidGoodbye: Hey NotOverYet, I get how you’re feeling. Been there, done that, messed it up and watched him be with someone else. I didn’t fight for him. I wish I had. You go, girl!
NancyBirmingham: No! Don’t do it. Only two possible outcomes. 1. His bride will mess you up. 2. You’ll look like a tit.
10 a.m. – Noon
Six
Caro
Val’s jaw had dropped so low it took her a moment to get it back up to a position that facilitated speech.
‘Caro, love, are you trying to give me a stroke? What do you mean, you don’t want to get married? Of course you do. Oh, dear God, I’ve seen this on the news. Roofies. Someone slipped something in your drink last night and you’ve lost your mind. We need to get to the hospital and get your stomach pumped and… I’ll bloody kill our Jen and Chrissie. How the bugger did they let this happen?’ Val turned her head to the side and ramped up her volume, voice now steeped in menace, so she could be heard by the hung-over matron of honour in the next room. “Jen, you’d better start running, love, because I am NOT BLOODY HAPPY.’
Caro sighed, leaning against the kitchen worktop for support. ‘Val, no one spiked my drink. And it’s nothing to do with Jen.’
‘What’s nothing to do with me?’ Jen asked, appearing in the doorway.
If Caro didn’t feel like her heart was being ripped out of her chest without an anaesthetic, she’d have found the sight amusing. Last night’s shirt on backwards. Make-up smears on her face. Stray pieces of tinsel matted in her hair and snowman earrings, one of which had suddenly begun flashing, probably out of sheer terror at Val’s furious glare.
‘What the hell did you do to this poor lassie last night?’ Val demanded, her platinum bob trembling with outrage.
‘Got her pissed, made her lead a conga, forced her to sing with a mariachi band and fed her a kebab.’ Jen then shrugged apologetically at Caro, only a twinkle in her eye giving a hint that she had no idea of the gravity of this situation. ‘Sorry, Caro, she’s always been able to crack me. My spine removes itself the minute she gives me the glare.’
In any other circumstances, Caro would have found this hilarious. Not this morning.
Val’s hands went to her hips. ‘She’s saying she doesn’t want to get married.’
Jen chortled. ‘Of course she does! She’s winding you u—’ she broke off when she saw the absolute agony that was written all over Caro’s face. ‘Oh bollocks. I need caffeine and a seat for this. So do you, Val. Your varicose veins will be fit to burst. Chrissie, get in here and help.’ While Caro stared at the floor, Jen took charge, clearing the shiny white gloss table, putting the three cups of coffee and a newly added cup of tea for Val in front of the four seats that surrounded it.
Chrissie wandered in just as the other three were sitting down and, drawn in by the coffee aroma, joined them at the table. ‘What did I miss?’ she asked glibly.
‘I don’t want to go though with the wedding,’ Caro said, more definite this time than when she’d just plucked up the courage to tell Val. ‘I can’t. I just can’t do it.’
Like Jen, Chrissie giggled at the sheer ridiculousness of the statement. ‘Yeah, right. And I’m Vera Wang…’ The last word trailed off as she caught the other women’s wide-eyed horror and, like Jen a few minutes ago, realised that this wasn’t a joke. ‘Shit, you’re serious. Is this some kind of alcohol poisoning psychosis?’
Val stepped in, making a real effort to regain some of her trademark composure. Freaking out, shouting at people and generally steamrollering her way through life was Josie’s job. Val had always tried to maintain a more warm, accepting, understanding attitude to her loved ones. ‘Okay, love, start from the beginning. What’s happened to change your mind?’
There was a pause as Caro struggled to find the words. Eventually, she settled on, ‘I don’t think I’ve really changed my mind, so much as gone along with something I was never sure I wanted to do. When Cammy proposed, I said yes because I love him and would never want to hurt him. I still do. It seemed like the natural way of things and I didn’t give it too much thought. But then when we set the date, the anxiety started. Not about Cammy, but about the wedding. I feel sick every time I picture myself walking up the aisle, or when I think about saying vows and h
earing him say them to me. Everything about it makes me want to run away and forget about the whole thing. I thought I could handle it, but I can’t.’
‘So it’s not that you’ve changed your mind about Cammy, it’s the wedding bit that you don’t want to go through with?’ Jen asked, hangover now forgotten while her foggy brain attempted to make sense of a senseless situation.
Caro nodded. ‘I just don’t want to do it.’
Chrissie was a bit more forthright. ‘I hate to ask the obvious question, but why didn’t you say anything before now? Talk to Cammy? Or to us? You know you can tell us anything.’
‘I think I was hoping that something inside me would change and that it was just stage fright. Cold feet. I should have told him and I tried so many times, but as soon I brought up the subject of the wedding, he’d immediately go on about how much he couldn’t wait and how excited he was and then… I’m such a coward. I just couldn’t tell him. What was I going to say? “Sorry, darling, you’re wonderful, but you can forget that wedding lark because I’ve changed my mind?” So I just pushed my feelings back down and I prayed I’d get over it, but it just gets worse every single day and now I’m here and I know I can’t do it. I hate myself for it, but I just can’t.’
The three other women shot each other helpless glances before Val took charge, putting her hands over Caro’s shaking fingers on the table. The others weren’t sure whether it was an act of consolation or a move to stop Caro from fleeing.
‘Look, love, nobody is going to make you get married if you don’t want to. And, God knows, that man of yours is so in love with you he’d forgive you anything. But let’s not be too hasty and rush into anything. Tell me exactly what you feel when you think about the wedding. What is it that’s scaring you?’