Blindsided

by Amy Daws

  She rushes off, and I turn to Allie, who’s fidgeting with her bouquet of pink roses. “Are you nervous?”

  “Not nervous,” she replies, lifting the flowers to her nose. “Just ready to get this over with.”

  My lips pull back with a smile. “That’s a funny way to look at your wedding day.”

  Allie rolls her eyes. “I’m just ready to start my life with Roan, you know? This day is exciting, but I’m more interested in the normal days. The days of kissing each other goodbye on our way to work or when I pick him up at the airport after he’s been playing abroad for a while. Or hell, even the nights we argue over what to eat for dinner. That’s what I’m most looking forward to. Is that weird?”

  I smile and shake my head. “Not weird. You’re just describing contentment.”

  Allie nods. “Contentment. Yes. That’s what I’m ready for. Dull and painfully ordinary contentment.”

  My smiles falls when I realise that I felt more content with Mac these past few weeks than I have my entire life. Now I don’t know what I feel.

  Allie seems to pick up my mood shift. “What’s going on with you and Mac?”

  “Nothing.” I shake my head. “This is your day, and we should be talking about you.”

  Allie levels me with a stare. “Freya, if it’s my day, we can talk about what I want to talk about, and I want to talk about you and Mac.”

  I roll my eyes and shrug. “I don’t know exactly. I thought Scotland was going to be the beginning of something big for us. But ever since we got back to London, he’s been distant.” I look up at her watching me in the mirror and shrug. “How is it possible to feel someone pulling away when they’re literally right beside you?”

  Allie’s brows pinch together. “Maybe his head just needs time to catch up to his heart?”

  I nod and try to accept her words as truth. They are similar to the ones I’ve been telling myself over and over again.

  “Ladies, it’s time!” a voice says.

  Allie looks to me with a smile. “Let’s go get my dull and painfully ordinary contentment, shall we?”

  We walk through several hallways until we reach the narthex just outside the sanctuary. It’s a bit of chaos because Allie decided to have her cousins’ children all be flower girls and ring bearers, and the scene we’re walking into is the Harris wives all doing their best to wrangle their adorable children into their proper places.

  So first you have Sloan’s daughter, Sophia, who’s dressed in a pale pink gown like mine. She’s holding the handle of a small wagon decorated in tulle that contains Belle and Indie’s one-year-olds, Joey and Bex. Then there’s Vi’s three-year-old, Rocky, who’s currently tipping over her basket of flower petals while her mummy tries to scoop them back up. After that, you have Booker and Poppy’s twin boys, Teddy and Oliver, who are currently fighting over the ring pillow that thankfully has fake rings on it, because no one would ever dream of trusting those two little hellers with expensive jewelry. And finally, you have Sloan and Gareth’s wee one, Milo, who’s supposed to be in the wagon, but who is currently running away from Sloan like his pants are on fire.

  All of them are adorable little nightmares in white fluffy dresses and tuxedos, and I glance over at Allie, who’s laughing at the scene unfolding.

  The wedding planner lines me up to walk in. “You go first, and these little terrors will follow, God willing.”

  The organ swells with a music change and the doors open to a full church. The Harris Brothers are front and centre, poking their heads out from the crowd to see how their wee ones are doing behind me. The wedding planner gives me a shove, and I do my best to make my way down the aisle elegantly.

  I see Roan first, his smile large and genuine as he meets my eyes. My gaze slowly drifts past him to find Mac. He’s dressed in a smart tuxedo that fits him perfectly because I altered it myself. His strawberry blond hair is freshly cut and styled cleanly, giving him a sophisticated look that’s so at odds with the wild Scotsman that I know lives inside of him.

  As his eyes drink in my body, I can’t help but think about what it’d be like if this were my wedding day. And if I was walking down the aisle as a bride instead of a bridesmaid. The fantasy should give me butterflies, but it actually causes a pit to form in my belly. Before Mac, I didn’t have dreams of a happily ever after. I didn’t wish for a man to get down on one knee or think about how I’d feel walking down the aisle to marry him. Now that I’ve fallen for him, all that has changed.

  I want more.

  And it’s terrifying.

  When I find my position across from Mac, he eyes me fondly for a moment before mouthing, “Bonnie.” And there goes that pit growing in my belly as he smirks at me like he’s seen me naked. Well, because he has.

  I smile my thanks and turn to look away from him, terrified that he’ll see the hopes and dreams written all over my face, and it’ll scare him away. He can’t even admit to being in a relationship with me, so the last thing I need to do is tell him that I fantasise about our wedding day.

  The music changes, drawing the attention towards the Harris children coming down the aisle. It’s complete anarchy as Sophia rolls over Teddy’s foot with the wagon, and he starts crying. Poppy has to save him while Rocky is attempting to spin her way in circles down the aisle. Joey and Bex seem more interested in licking their tulle dresses than paying attention to the show around them, while Milo is still trying to make the great escape out of the wagon. It’s all truly the most adorable mess I’ve ever seen, and the entire sanctuary is in stitches through the whole thing.

  Vi, Sloan, Poppy, Belle, and Indie end up having to walk alongside them while their husbands pop out into the aisle to encourage the little ones’ progress. It’s sweet really, like herding the most adorable kittens you’ve ever seen.

  Once the children find their seats with their parents, the music changes, and it’s Allie’s turn to walk down the aisle.

  Her father looks stoic as he ushers his daughter towards her fiancé. I chance a glance at Roan, and his face is the picture of happiness as he awaits his bride. Allie and Roan had a whirlwind romance that was almost torn apart at one point, but they found their way back to each other.

  The ceremony is beautiful, and tears are shed throughout the church, even by Mac, who looks so happy for his friend, it starts to give me that shred of hope again.

  We make our way to the reception, and it’s a dark, romantic display of dim yellow lighting and pale pink and white flowers toppling out of tall tapered vases. The room is buzzing with happiness for the bride and groom as we take our seats for dinner.

  After standing to watch Allie and Roan have their first dance as a couple, the DJ invites other couples out onto the floor.

  Suddenly, Mac’s large hands wrap around my waist from behind. “I know you think I’m a crap dancer, but would you do me the honour anyway, Cookie?”

  I smile and tip my head back against his chest. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  He turns me in his arms, and I wrap my hands around his neck while he walks us back into the mix of other couples. My cheek rests on Mac’s chest as we dance slowly, letting our bodies reconnect after being apart for only twenty-four hours.

  “I missed you last night,” I say, pulling back and smiling up at him.

  Mac’s velvety eyes are fierce on mine as he reaches out to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Aye, I missed you too.”

  I nuzzle into his touch. “I’ve got kind of used to your snoring these past couple of weeks.”

  He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

  “Are you coming back to my place tonight, then?”

  Mac looks away, and his brow is furrowed when he says, “I don’t think so.”

  “I suppose we could go to yours since Allie and Roan won’t be returning,” I reply, combing my fingers through his hair. I pull him down so I can whisper in his ear. “Now might be a good time to tell you that I’m not wearing any knickers under this dress.”
>
  Mac groans and shakes his head, his body going tense under my hands. I smile and look up once more, wanting to see the desire on his face that I’ve grown used to. My smile fades as I note the hardness in his eyes, which are looking everywhere but at me. “I think maybe it’d be better for us to stay apart tonight.”

  My lips part in surprise. “Why?”

  Mac swallows what looks to be a painful knot in his throat. “I have some news.”

  I feel my brows pinch. “Okay…What kind of news?”

  He looks away from me as if he can’t stomach making eye contact with me as he replies, “I’m in the process of getting transferred to Glasgow Rangers.”

  My body freezes, my feet stopping their movement. “What do you mean, ‘transferred’?”

  He exhales heavily and turns to look down at me, a coldness in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. “It means I’ll play for them this season. Not Bethnal Green.”

  “Okaaay,” I reply slowly, my eyes swimming as I attempt to process this information. “So, how does that work? Does this mean you’re moving to Scotland?”

  “Aye. I’m heading to Glasgow on Monday to do a fitness test that will likely check out fine, and afterwards, I’ll look at some flats—”

  “Wait a second,” I interrupt with a laugh and pull my arms down from his neck. “So you’re literally moving? To Glasgow?”

  He blinks once. “Aye.”

  “Why?” I ask, beginning to feel faint as my mind whirls with this news, and my heart threatens to beat out of my chest.

  His hands turn to fists at his sides. “Because I signed a new contract.”

  “Why did you sign a new contract?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest defensively. “You’ve been doing great for Bethnal Green. Was this Vaughn Harris’s idea? I can’t imagine he meant to do this. The Harris family loves you. You’re an asset to the team! I’m going to have Vi talk to him—”

  I move off the dance floor in hot pursuit of any Harris family member, because any one of them will surely have something to say about this.

  Mac grabs my arm, spinning me in my tracks to face him again. “It wasn’t Vaughn’s idea, Freya. It was mine.”

  “Your idea?” I huff out an incredulous laugh. “Why would you want to go play for Glasgow? Your entire life is in London.”

  Mac’s lips thin, and he looks away before replying, “My grandad is sick.”

  My stomach drops as the weight of what he’s telling me sinks in. “How sick?” I manage to whisper as I grip his forearms in sympathy.

  “The dying kind of sick,” he snaps, his guttural voice making me jump as his jaw ticks angrily. He pulls away from my touch. “He only has months to live, and you know better than most what my relationship is like with him. So I’m doing this transfer for him. This isn’t up for discussion.”

  “Oh my God, Mac. I am so, so sorry,” I reply, my mind reeling with this new information. “So…you’re transferring to be close to him. Okay, that makes sense.”

  He blinks slowly. “Aye, it’s what’s best for my family.”

  “Okay, I understand that,” I nod as tears begin to burn in my eyes. I reach out for Mac again, the need to comfort him and ground myself like a reflex in my body. But something in his expression stops me. “So then…where do I fit in?”

  Mac looks at me carefully for a moment. “As…a mate. You and I were always supposed to go back to being friends after our agreement was over anyhow. I’m just ending it sooner.”

  “You can’t be serious,” I croak, my hands dropping as I take a step away from him. “You’re moving to play for another team, and now you’re just…done with us?”

  “I’m not done with us. We’ll go back to being friends like before,” he replies, his voice flat and unemotive. “My grandad is what’s most important now, and I’m not going to feel bad about this.”

  “I’m not trying to make you feel bad,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself and trying to come to terms with the idea of that wonderfully cheeky man whom I adored being ill. My heart breaks because I only just met him. And I know how much Fergus means to Mac. They are connected in a deep and personal way. But then, so are Mac and I. Right? Can we really just go back to being friends?

  The words that tumble out of my mouth beg to be asked because, despite myself, I still need to hear it one more time. “So even after everything that’s happened between us, you just want to be friends?”

  Mac’s mouth closes before he nods his confirmation. “Aye.”

  His response makes my face feel like it just had ice-cold water thrown into it, even though I knew what his answer would be. I turn away from him, desperate for some space, desperate for some room to think. Why is this affecting me so much? Why can’t I deal with this better?

  I make my way through the tables of people, my mind reeling as I think about how stupid I was to think that there could ever be more between Mac and me. All because he kissed me in front of his friends? That meant nothing. Clearly. That was lust. Not love. That was a kiss. Nothing more. Why did I let myself fantasise like it was more?

  “Freya,” Mac’s voice calls out behind me as I make my way out of the reception hall, horrid tears spilling freely from my eyes as I pick up my pace. I have to get out of here.

  “Freya, would you just wait?”

  I find a side exit and push through it out onto the dark street corner, grateful for the broken streetlight because I can’t stand the thought of Mac seeing me like this. It shouldn’t be about me right now; it should be about his grandad.

  “Freya, stop for a bloody second,” Mac says, sounding out of breath.

  I don’t have any breath either. I’m holding it for fear of breaking apart into a million pieces if I let out one ounce of the feelings inside of me.

  He spins me to look at him, his face crumpling when he sees my obvious distress. “You deserve someone that’s going to put you first, Cookie. Not football. And I think now you have the confidence to go out there and find that person.”

  I bark out a garbled laugh, wiping at the hot tears burning tracks down my cheeks. “That’s all I was to you, wasn’t I? A charity project.”

  “No, I didn’t say that.” He steps into my space, his eyes pained and searching mine for understanding.

  But he won’t find it. I’m hurt and irrational, and my heart aches.

  “You didn’t have to say it,” I retort with a pained noise, turning away from him and begging my tears to stop falling. “Because if I were more than just a charity project, you’d be asking me to come with you to Scotland. To be with you during this difficult time.”

  It’s a statement peppered with a dark truth I know he will not admit.

  Mac exhales heavily. “I’d never ask you to come with me, Freya. You’re just starting a new venture with the shop. I won’t ask you to choose between me and your career.”

  “Of course you won’t,” I snap, a hot flush of anger surging through me. I step back into his space and eye him harshly. “Because to you…career always comes first.”

  Mac’s eyes narrow. “You’ve known that since the beginning, Freya. Don’t act like this is new information. You’ve also known I don’t do relationships for this very reason. Nothing’s changed about me. I’m the same man I’ve been for the past year.”

  Except now I’ve fallen in love with you.

  I purse my lips together and close my eyes, pleading with my heart to calm down so I can breathe normally again.

  Mac’s words are all true. I have known how he feels about football. And relationships. And me. I should have seen this coming.

  “This is why you’ve been different with me since we got back from Scotland, isn’t it?” My eyes flutter open, a cool, empty calm overtaking me as acceptance replaces hurt. “You knew you were going to leave.”

  Mac’s guilty look is all the response I need.

  I nod slowly, rubbing my lips together as I think back to the last night we slept together and how in hindsight, I sho
uld have realised he was saying goodbye. It felt so final. The way he looked at me, touched me. Held me afterwards. The way he kissed my shoulder when he left the next morning. I should have known I was in this alone all along.

  That lying cunt that tells me I’m not good enough for a happily ever after turned out to be the one voice in my life who I should have been trusting all along. I should have never stopped listening to it because now that I’ve tasted what I thought was love, I’ll always know what I’m missing. And the memory of that feeling will be like a wound that never truly heals.

  I inhale a deep breath through my nose and move past Mac to head back inside. “Good luck in Scotland, Mac.”

  “Don’t be like that, Freya!” Mac reaches out and grabs my arm, his grip tight on me as he stares back at me with a wild look in his red-rimmed eyes. “We’ll still keep in touch. You’re my best mate.”

  I plaster on a smile because I could so easily mistake that fervent look he’s giving me for hope. But I know better now. I know the truth. “Sure, Mac. We can be friends.”

  He releases my arm, and I walk away, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that I will never be friends with Maclay Logan again. How can you ever be friends with someone who completely shattered your heart?

  Two Weeks Later

  “All right, that’s it for the day, gentlemen. Go hit the changing room!” Coach bellows from the sidelines as I finish my last drill and drop down onto the Rangers training centre pitch. We’ve been pushed to our limit this week as we prepare to play a friendly match against Oxford United in a few days. I often survey my surroundings to remind myself I’m not at Bethnal Green anymore. I’m home. In Scotland.

  Everything happened quickly after Roan and Allie’s wedding. I went to Glasgow and was checked out by the club’s doctors, ran a few drills with the team, and then before I knew it, I was having my photo taken in Ranger gear and signing my name to a new contract that Santino, of all people, helped draft. I barely even looked at the terms, trusting that my agent did me right. It’s probably foolish of me. This is how footballers get taken advantage of, but I just don’t care at this point. I’m here for one reason and one reason only.