Page 44 of Forbidden Dark Vows

The newlyweds order champagne and Harry refuses to let them pay, saying that it’s his treat. He’s wired, buzzing with happiness, and I wonder how excited he’ll be on his own wedding day. I feel a stab of sadness in my chest—he’ll make someone an amazing husband one day.

We learn that their names are Donna and Bill. They met in a cinema. They were watching a gory horror movie when Donna’s best friend puked over Bill’s then girlfriend—sitting in the row in front—during a particularly gruesome scene.

I cringe. “That’s the weirdest meet cute I’ve ever heard.”

“How did you two meet?” Donna sips her champagne, her eyes sparkling.

Harry inhales deeply. “I fell over her at an ice-skating rink. Literally.”

“Ouch.” Bill chuckles. “Lucky you didn’t slice her fingers off with the blades.”

“Thank you!” I raise my champagne flute to toast him. “My mom always claimed that was a thing when I was younger. She believed that fear was the best way to teach me to skate.”

Everyone who enters the pub comes over to congratulate the couple. Weddings have this effect on people. It’s a celebration of love and happiness and the future, and I find myself smiling so much that my cheeks are sore.

Between pats on the back, kisses, and handshakes, the discussion turns around to the kind of wedding Harry and I would like.

“I want to get married in a forest or a field. Somewhere outside.” Inexplicably, my cheeks grow hot as Harry stares at me intently, like he’s taking notes in case I test him on my preferences later. “You know, in a long floaty dress, something ethereal, with flowers in my hair.”

“Sounds lovely,” Donna says. “What about your wedding reception? Would you have that in the forest too?”

I never thought that far ahead. I’ve only ever envisaged the ceremony, something informal, where my husband and I read out our own vows and people throw wildflowers over our heads.

“Donna is thinking about the great British weather,” Bill adds. “Raincoats, umbrellas, wellie boots getting stuck in the mud.”

“Would kind of ruin the dress.” Donna shrugs.

“Or add to the adventure.” I sip my champagne, and my mind immediately flits to Harry dribbling bubbles into my belly button. “Depending on which way you look at it. It’s the person you’re marrying that’s important, right?”

“Cheers to that.” Bill clinks his glass against hers.

“What about you, Harry?” Donna asks. “Ever thought about your wedding?”

Harry sets his drink down on the table and catches the condensation on the side of the glass with his thumb. “I always thought I’d have a big wedding. You know, the kind of event that the paparazzi are clamoring to get exclusive pictures of.Hundreds of guests. My wife-to-be in a huge, sparkling white gown.”

“Princess Diana style.” Donna smiles at the image.

I can’t tell if he’s serious or not, so I keep quiet.

Harry reaches for my hand underneath the table. “I want everyone to see my future wife. I want to show her off, let them see how beautiful she is, and how happy she makes me.” He pauses. “But I can do that in a forest if that’s what makes her happy too.”

Donna dabs her eyes with a tissue. “Stop. You’re going to make me cry.”

“Well said, mate.” Bill claps Harry on the back. “Maybe we can repay the favor, come along and be your witnesses one day.”

“I’d like that.”

Harry is all sunshine smiles and fluid edges. He’s living his dream, only he’s confusing it with reality, and this isn’t real. None of it is real.

I stand abruptly and make an excuse about needing the restroom, stumbling blindly towards the rear of the pub, my thoughts swimming frantically against the tide.

All this talk about weddings and forests and sparkling dresses has brought me down to earth with a thundering jolt. This isn’t our life. One day we’ll have to go home, and then it will all come crashing down around us and this … adventure … will end up being nothing more than a moment of madness that we’ll look back on with much eye rolling and shaking of our heads.

In the restroom, I splash cold water on my face and stare at my reflection in the mirror above the basin. I look pale, tired, with dark smudges under my eyes. But my cheeks are rosy, and my lips still bear the imprint of Harry’s kisses.

My stomach twists when I think of our naked bodies entwined beneath the fur blanket at Eileen’s B&B. If only we could somehow make it real, stay here forever, make a new life, one in which dreams do come true.

Donna and Bill have made it happen. But even as I think this, I know that their situation is nothing like ours, and the dark cloud that I’ve been ignoring since we landed in Edinburgh settles above my head again, threatening and ominous.

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