Page 49 of Always the Bridesmaid

‘What was what?’ he asks, unable to feign nonchalance, if that is in fact what he is trying to do.

I round upon him. ‘You were going to—’

Was he…? Had he been about to kiss me? Have I imagined it? Had I been about to kiss him, entirely one sided? What was I thinking? I hadn’t been thinking.

My eyes start to sting and I’m not sure why. Anger? Remorse? Embarrassment?

‘To kiss you,’ he says, gentler now, dropping his hands to his sides limply. ‘I’m sorry. I got carried away with the music and the whole day. I shouldn’t have come near you.’

I feel my brow crease with confusion but I can’t speak. I don’t know what I’m feeling and I sure as hell don’t know how to respond. I simply stand there. Confused. Dumbfounded.

Charlie draws a deep breath. ‘When we got back the other morning, the guys told me about your husband. Danny?’

Hearing his name on another man’s tongue, a man I was going to kiss, is wrong. I hate it. More than that, I hate that Charlie has called me out. What I had been about to do on that dance floor was despicable.

In sickness and in health, until death parts us.

I hadn’t meant those words. Death doesn’t change a thing. My eyes are burning; I can feel my tears forming.

‘I promised them I won’t go near you,’ Charlie continues.

‘Excuse me? They don’t control me. They can’t tell me when it’s right or wrong to—’

‘Wait,’ Charlie says, holding up his palms. ‘Don’t get mad with them. They were trying to help you.’

‘Help me? By deciding who I can and can’t speak to? Am I that pitiful?’

‘Pitiful? God, Sarah, you’re anything but piti—’

A proverbial penny drops.

‘That’s why you were ignoring me?’ I snipe.

Then I think about his free-of-charge hug earlier. About his offer to be my dance partner.

‘Does everyone think I’m just some pathetic widow?’ My eyes finally fill with tears.

‘Pathetic?’ Charlie has closed the space between us and reaches out to touch my arm. I shrug him off. ‘I don’t think you’re pathetic, Sarah. I think you’re incredible. To have been through what you have and still have your shit together. It’s… commendable.’

‘Oh, Charlie, fuck off. I don’t need your pity.’ I swipe at my wet cheeks. ‘You act like you’re all perfect but I know those jokes about your upbringing aren’t just for the stage. Jess told me it’s all true. Should I pay you the discourteous sympathy vote? How would that make you feel?’

He rolls his jaw tightly as he takes a step backward. He scoffs, nodding slowly.

‘Haven’t you? You know, I wondered what shifted between us. I wondered why suddenly hangry, cranky Sarah started to want to joke around and throw me smiles.’

We stare at each other. Motionless. Speechless. For my part, wanting the ground to swallow me whole.

Eventually, I break the silence.

‘I’m sorry, Charlie. I don’t know why I said that. I’m just angry and upset but that’s no excuse.’

Charlie shrugs and for a moment I see a small boy, shrugging in the face of his adversity. It pulls at my heartstrings and makes me despise myself even more for the way I just brought his upbringing into our argument.

‘I can’t change my past any more than you can, Sarah, but I can assure you, I don’t pity myself, nor do I want anyone else to. So believe me when I say, I don’t pity you. I just have empathy for your loss. If that’s a crime, then lock me up.’

I am speechless. I am ashamed of myself but still so mad at Drew, Brooks and Jake for telling my story and, moreover, using it to push away Charlie.

‘I don’t even know why we’re arguing,’ he says. ‘You don’t like me and I’m not good enough for you, so what are we fighting about here?’

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