All I Have Left of You
Page 17
I raised my eyebrows. ‘She did?’
Roanna nodded, still laughing. ‘She went back to some guy’s room with him.’
‘No!’ I exclaimed, shocked. Kit had never done anything like that, and to be honest, she’d always secretly judged those who did.
‘Yeah. She hadn’t even had that much! She only had one
glass of wine and three shots of vodka! She was dancing on tables!’
‘Wow, that does not sound like Kit!’ I said, still surprised.
‘I know. She ended up in a heap on the floor, and we got escorted out by the bouncer. I was about to bring her back when I turned my head for a second and the next I saw she was kissing some guy like she’d lost something in his mouth!’
‘Was he staying in this hotel?’ I asked.
Roanna nodded. ‘Yep. They almost started having sex in the lift on the way up!’
I clapped a hand over my mouth. ‘Oh my god! She’s gonna feel all kinds of bad this morning!’
‘Yep. She just sent me a text saying she’d meet us at the pool in a couple of hours. I don’t think she’s had much sleep.’
‘Wow,’ I breathed. ‘That is a surprise.’
‘I can’t wait to see her face if I have to remind her he was
nineteen!’
‘He was only nineteen?’ I gasped.
Amidst Roanna’s laughter, I think I heard her say ‘yes’. ‘How was your night anyway?’ she asked once she’d calmed down. ‘You seemed pretty out when I came in. You had a smile on your face. Were you dreaming?’
I frowned. I couldn’t remember dreaming about anything in particular. ‘I don’t remember, but I was very relaxed. I had the nicest bath before I went to bed.’ But now that she’d mentioned it, I felt like I had been dreaming about something. I remembered waking up slightly and then rolling over, hoping my dream wouldn’t be interrupted. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something made my tummy roll over. And I couldn’t decide whether it was in a good way or not.
Chapter Twenty-Two
4th September 2015
I’d hardly slept.
My eyes were sore and scratchy, and my stomach was in knots. I wanted to cry, I wanted to sob and sob, but Kit and Roanna had begged me not to.
‘Lina, if you ruin that gorgeous makeup, I’ll kill you, and then you won’t even make it down the aisle,’ Roanna laughed as she poured me another glass of prosecco.
‘I just can’t believe it’s finally here!’ I said, all high-pitched and squeaky. As vain as it sounds, I couldn’t stop staring at myself in the mirror of my bridal suite.
Our wedding day had finally arrived, and as luck would have it, the date was exactly thirteen years after I’d met Michael on my first day of secondary school.
‘You look so beautiful,’ Kit said with a sob as she reached to the vanity desk for a tissue.
‘That’s not fair, why are you allowed to cry?’ I said with a laugh.
‘No one is going to be looking at me, you daft fool,’ Kit said through her tears. ‘I’ve had my day!’ She and Pete had married last summer at a lovely castle in Dublin.
‘And if I recall, you cried!’ I reminded her.
Just then, three knocks sounded at the door.
‘Come in!’ the three of us called in unison.
The silver doorknob twisted and two faces peered behind the cream-painted wooden door.
‘Oh my god! Elina, look at you!’ Mum said, throwing her hands to her mouth as she and my dad stepped into the room.
My dad said nothing but he didn’t need to; his words were written all over his face. His smile was broad, his eyes full of pride, awe, and love. I’d never seen his blue eyes so bright, nor had I ever seen such tears shine upon them.
‘Thanks,’ I said, fighting back more tears as I stood frozen in the middle of the room. I daren’t move. I was worried that doing so would ruin the perfection of the moment; that I’d trip over the hem of my dress and spoil it somehow. ‘You guys look amazing too.’
Mum wore a lilac dress with a matching hat and satin cream shoes. Her blonde hair fell to her chin in a straight bob, and her skin glowed. Dad looked brilliant in his navy blue suit and shiny brown shoes. His curly hair was almost entirely grey now, but it suited him, as did the lines of laughter that mapped out his face. They went so well with his warm blue eyes.
‘Have you seen Michael?’ I asked. My heart skipped a
beat as I mentioned his name, as I pictured him getting ready with his dad and Max. I wondered if he was as excited as I was.
Dad nodded. ‘He’s ready. He’s practising his speech. He keeps saying how he can’t believe his luck.’ I had a feeling he wanted to say more, but his words were cut short when his voice caught in his throat.
‘I can’t believe mine,’ I said, feeling my eyes heat with tears again.
‘We definitely picked the right dress,’ Mum said as she moved deeper into the room to catch a closer look. She did a circle around me, and then another.
‘We definitely did,’ I said with a broad smile as I looked back to the mirror.
I’d known this was the one the second I’d spotted it.
The top was intricate lace that created a slight ‘v’ between my small breasts, and two thin straps on each side led to my shoulders. The skirt was a flurry of layered tulle that fanned out when I span around. I felt like I wanted to run through the woods barefoot and pretend I was a princess running to my prince. With that fantasy in mind, I’d had my icy blonde locks curled into loose waves with a few little white flowers woven throughout.
My bridesmaids, Roanna and Kit, wore coral dresses in a style similar to mine. Their tops were lace and their skirts tulle that reached their ankles. They looked gorgeous, and the colour complemented their pale skin tones. Their hair was in waves too, with coral flowers running in between their strands.
‘I can’t believe my little girl is getting married,’ Mum said as she did yet another circle around me.
‘Me neither. Only one more hour of being Elina Lawrence.’
Michael and I had decided to get married at Holdsworth House.
It was a Jacobean manor, hidden away behind acres of gardens and woodland. It dated back to 1633 and was full of little quirks and historic architectural features. Being in Halifax, it wasn’t exactly close to home, but one of Michael’s uni friends had got married there at the beginning of last year, and we fell in love with the place. So, after months upon months of traipsing around different wedding fairs and venues, we finally decided to do it there.
Dad and I stood outside in the hallway awaiting the walk down the aisle.
My arm was linked tightly through his as we stood side by side.
‘I hope you know how proud of you I am, Elina,’ he said.
I turned to face him and looked into blue eyes of wisdom.
‘Thanks, Dad.’ My chest swelled as I looked at him, the man who’d raised me, the man who’d provided for me, the man who’d believed in me when I hadn’t believed in myself, the man who’d kissed better my scraped knees.
‘I love you, Elina,’ he said softly.
‘I love you, Dad,’ I replied, and tears stung my eyes yet again. ‘God, all these bloody tears. And I haven’t even heard the speeches yet!’ I laughed.
My dad laughed with me, and when the beginning of our chosen song began, an usher opened the door, and we started to walk.
I think a lot of people would laugh at the song we chose to walk down the aisle to. Well, that’s if they knew what it was from. Michael and I loved film music, and we’d spent weeks debating what score I would walk down the aisle to. Initially, we’d wanted something from Harry Potter, but all of our favourite scores were too sad, about loss. So we’d chosen something that was the opposite and from another of our favourite film franchises. We’d chosen One Day from the Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End soundtrack. I’d always found it to be so full of hope and love, and it had always brought a tear to my eye whenever I’d heard it.
felt like an incredibly long aisle to marry me was no exception.
He had his back to me for the first few seconds, and then I saw Max whisper something to him with a wide grin on his face. He turned to face me, and when he did, I wasn’t prepared for the look of all-consuming love that was written all over him.
His brown eyes were so deep, so rich with emotion. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, and his eyes screwed up as he let out a little sob.
That set me off.
‘Screw it’, I thought, ‘the mascara is waterproof; I’ll risk it.’ My bottom lip trembled, my heart swelled and swelled inside me, so much so that it felt like I might burst with the love I felt soaring within my chest. Here I was, walking down the aisle to marry my best friend in the whole world surrounded by everyone who meant something to me.
This is what life is about, I thought then, about spending every second loving those who love us as hard as we can. Life is that feeling that you’re alive, that’s what everything is about. Nothing else matters, not the days when you can’t be arsed with anything, not the days you bicker with loved ones, and not the days you hate your job. None of that matters when you have that feeling of love wrapped around you so tightly it feels like it might drown you, but you want to drown in it. You want to cling to that feeling for dear life. You want to celebrate that at that moment, you have everything.
But that’s the problem when you have everything.
You have everything to lose.
*
The sun gleamed down on us, lighting up the happy faces of those who had come to celebrate our marriage. Rain had been forecast, but the clouds had parted sometime around mid-morning, allowing us to bask in the warmth of the vibrant yellow sun.
Michael and I had spent our first hour as husband and wife in the grounds of Holdsworth House with our photographer. She had us holding hands and running through the gardens, playfully hiding behind trees, holding each other beneath the blue sky, staring into one another’s eyes, kissing.
My heart was beating fast the whole time, adrenaline running through my blood. I kept looking at my shaking hand to see my wedding ring there.
I couldn’t believe it.
We were married! No longer was I Miss Elina Lawrence, but Mrs Elina Mills. Mrs Mills! It made me feel so grown-up, so mature. But more than anything, I felt so wonderfully lucky.
‘God, I’m starving!’ Michael said once we’d finished with the photographer. His tummy rumbled.
I laughed. ‘Me too! What time is it?’
Michael checked his watch. ‘Just gone half-one,’ he said. ‘There’s at least another hour until we sit down to eat.’
‘Damn!’ I said, fighting to ignore the empty feeling in my tummy as we re-joined our group of guests on a patio around the back of the house.
‘I’ll go and find us some of those expensive canapes we ordered,’ he said with a smile. He planted a kiss on my cheek. ‘I’ll be back Mrs Mills, but right now I need to provide for my wife!’
I laughed as I watched him weave through our guests to find one of the waiters that were handing out bruschetta bites and olives and things.
‘Wife,’ I whispered to myself with a smile.
‘Mrs Mills!’ Roanna yelped as she approached me. She wobbled slightly on her heels already. Perhaps the open bar had been a bad idea. She carried two glasses in her hand and passed one to me.
‘Thanks,’ I laughed as she grabbed my arm to steady herself.
‘I swear I’m not drunk. My shoes are just really high!’
‘If you say so,’ I replied with a smirk.
‘So, how do you feel, Mrs Mills?’ she asked. ‘Christ, I can’t believe you’re married!’
‘I feel amazing, Roanna,’ I answered, grinning from ear to ear. My tummy growled once more. ‘And hungry.’
I didn’t even see Michael again until we sat down for our wedding breakfast, nor did either of us manage to eat anything before then. Every time we’d tried to get a minute together or grab a canape we’d been interrupted by friends and family offering their congratulations and best wishes. I was so pleased to see everyone but by the time we were served our starters I was starting to feel faint from hunger.
We wolfed down our starters so quickly I was hardly able to savour the different flavours of pate or the different types of bread. I decided completely against alcohol with my meal knowing I’d be drunk within about three minutes if I didn’t at least wait until I’d finished my dessert before drinking again.
Once we’d finished our main course of beef wellington and a lovely chocolate fudge dessert, the speeches began.
‘I’ll never forget the very first time I realised Michael and Elina would end up together,’ Max said as he stood next to Michael, holding a glass of champagne in his hand. ‘We were all in Year Eight, and Elina had decided to ditch us to spend lunch with some girls instead. Michael and I had joined our school’s climbing club, and during that particular lunchtime, Michael had probably brought up Elina, on average, about fifty-seven times a minute.’ The crowd laughed at Max’s exaggeration. ‘He kept asking me if I thought she was okay and if I thought she’d stop hanging out with us. At one point I think he even mentioned how nice her skin was. I could tell immediately that he was head over heels for her, and that it was only a matter of time before something happened between them. Given that there was just the three of us in our little group, a part of me worried I’d become the third wheel and they’d forget all about me in the throes of their romance. But I was foolish to worry. Not only are these two the best couple I’ve ever seen, but they’re also the best friends anyone could wish for. When I look at Elina and Michael, I see a future with such happiness, with such love, and I can’t wait to watch the two of them grow old together. Just as long as they still invite me over every couple of weeks for games and movie nights just like we always do. Usually, the best man is meant to give a couple of embarrassing stories about the groom, but because Michael is so bloody boring I don’t have any material.’ The crowd laughed again, and Max reached under the table to pull out a box that was wrapped in silver paper. It was only small, about six by four inches. ‘So instead, I am presenting them with this gift that might add a touch of comic relief to my otherwise boring, soppy speech.’ He handed the parcel to Michael and me, and we ripped off the silver paper together.
It was a photograph in a silver frame, and when I saw the subject of the picture, I burst out laughing. It was a picture of Michael and me that had been taken last summer when we’d taken a trip to Norfolk. We were both happily smiling into the camera without a care in the world with a blue sky and pinewood trees in the background. Only, the picture didn’t appear as it had been taken.
Max had had the picture retouched to make us appear old. Wrinkles spread across our faces and our hair was silver. We looked about eighty!
I passed the photo down the table and then it was passed around all the tables for our guests to get a closer look.
‘Now, the idea was not only to make everyone laugh but to emphasise how happy these two muppets look in that picture. I can quite safely guarantee that even when they’re eighty-odd, and look like they do in this picture, they will still make each other just as happy as they do now. If not, more so.’ He looked down at the two of us with a heartfelt smile. His brown eyes were shining with tears. ‘If I ever find myself half as happy as these two, I will count myself incredibly lucky. So, can we all please raise our glasses to the most perfect, happy, so-in-love-it-makes-you-want-to-vomit couple? To Michael and Elina. To Mr and Mrs Mills.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
4th August 2019
Time without Michael: 1 Year, 7 Months, 19 Days
Roanna and I were sunbathing by one of the many hotel pools when I remembered what I’d been dreaming about the previous night, and the image made me shoot up in my lounger and gasp.
‘What?’ Roanna yelp
ed and shot up with me, glancing around as though looking for a wasp or something. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing,’ I lied. ‘I was drifting off, and I felt like I was falling.’ I wasn’t quite ready to say the words out loud yet.
‘Oh,’ Roanna said, reassured that nothing was wrong. ‘I was hoping Kit was here for us to grill.’
I forced a smile and laid back down, my heart pounding hard against my chest. I gripped the arms of my sunbed as a sick feeling of guilt washed over me.
I’d be dreaming about Max.
We hadn’t been doing anything. Nothing sexual, at least. But we’d been lying on the sofa, hugging, and his shirt had been off. Although we hadn’t done anything sexual in the dream, I’d wanted to. In the dream, I’d traced his abs with my fingers as we’d watched TV like it was the most natural thing in the world.
It wasn’t.
There was nothing natural about this.
Max was Michael’s best friend, and Michael was my dead husband.
I felt sick. I was here to honour my husband, to complete his bucket list, and here I was dreaming about his best friend.
I was a horrible person. The worst of the worst.
I took a deep breath and willed myself to relax, but the sun felt hotter on my skin than it had before and I couldn’t. ‘I’m going for a swim,’ I told Roanna, and before I waited for her to respond, I headed to the pool. She was in her own world anyway, listening to music on her earphones and tapping her feet on the lounger.
I slid into the cool water and took in a deep breath. ‘It’s just a dream,’ I told myself.
‘Then why do you feel so guilty?’ Michael’s voice sounded in my head. He didn’t sound angry or hurt. He sounded…neutral. I squeezed my eyes shut, and when I opened them again after a few deep breaths, I saw him in front of me, standing in the pool, his shaggy hair damp, sculpted abs glistening in the sunlight. I knew his body so well. Every inch. What I’d give to touch it again, just one more time.
I didn’t respond.
Michael laughed. ‘Don’t worry, you muppet. You had a dream. You can’t control what you dream.’