Page 50 of Always the Bridesmaid

‘Don’t put words in my mouth. I never said that.’

Charlie glances back toward the hotel, where the sounds of happiness are coming from within.

‘This is one of the best days of our friends’ lives and you and I should be having fun celebrating with them. What do you say we forget whatever is going on here and we go back inside and have fun? Can you fake being my friend for a few more hours?’

‘Charlie—’ I want to protest. I want to tell him I am his friend, that I do like him, that I fear I might like him too much. But I don’t have any of that straight in my own mind yet. I’m not sure how I like Charlie, and how that can be; after all, I’ve only known him for a matter of days.

And this feeling, whatever it is, it’s bigger than just Charlie. This is a chink in my armor. I have convinced myself that I will never replace Danny, that I have lost the love of my life and I am willing to spend the rest of my life single, holding on to his memory. I haven’t doubted that plan before tonight.

My head is all over the place and I don’t want to hurt someone because I can’t get my words right. I really don’t want to hurt Charlie. Hasn’t he been through enough in his life? I’m unsure of his whole backstory but anyone who grew up in the system must have suffered rejection.

I have already had enough drama in my life without adding to it.

So, rather than say the things I ought to say, I simply nod, smile apologetically, and watch Charlie head back inside.

‘I’ll be there in a minute,’ I tell him.

What is happening to me this week?

I’m one of those people who has everything together, at least outwardly. Everyone tells me as much. I am organized and in control and help to organize and control everyone else in my life, but this week I am all over the place. A real hot mess.

Part of me is regretting having planned an extra week in London. If I could just get back to my life in New York, I’m sure that everything will seem better, that I’ll stop feeling so out of kilter, that I will be re-centered.

Drew, Brooks and Jake were wrong to interfere with things between Charlie and me – not that there are things to interfere with, as such – but I know that their intentions will have been good.

So, I will dust myself off (metaphorically speaking) and head back inside to find my people.

20

SARAH

The rest of the evening has gone off without a hitch (pun intended).

Jake’s musical speech got the evening party started early, such that it was only once the evening buffet was announced as open by Charlie that Drew and Brooks gave – or rather performed – their joint best man speech.

With dubious props, mortifying photographs and utterly laugh-out-loud stories about Jake (some squeaky clean and others borderline outrageous), their speech was memorable to say the least. Without causing offence to either the bride or groom or any of their guests, the duo managed to get buckets full of laughs and guffaws.

There was a line or two with sentimental words but honestly, Drew, Brooks, Jake and our entire gang know how much we love and are loved by one another, so the squishy notes weren’t missed.

Though the wedding breakfast was sheer indulgence, I think I worked off every single calorie and more as I set aside my volatile temperament and danced the night away with my friends.

Around midnight, the remaining wedding guests (excluding a fairly comatose couple who had been drinking liquor from the free bar like water in the desert) cheered and waved off the bride and groom in a traditional-style car, a ‘just married’ sign covering the rear number plate of the old Jaguar and a large ivory ribbon on the bonnet.

One of the barmen called last orders shortly after that and the number of the remaining guests began to dwindle (the comatose couple escorted into a cab), until there are now only the members of our house sitting in a large circle, finishing our last drinks and remarking on what a wonderful day it has been.

It’s clear that we’ve all had a little too much to drink (Becky excluded), and Izzy a little more so than the others.

Perhaps she didn’t indulge quite as heavily in the buffet as I did.

Returning from a break to the toilet, Izzy lands with a thump in a padded chair next to mine. She leans toward me, clumsily throwing her arms around my neck, and says, ‘I love you like a sister, Sarah.’

I titter and tell her, ‘Right back at you, gorgeous lady.’

She bends forward to pick up a drink from the table.

I have no idea whether she realizes she is picking up my half-drunk cocktail rather than her own, which is on the opposite side of the table.

‘So,’ she sings, ‘are you going to tell me what happened on the dance floor earlier? Did I see you and Charlie have a moment?’

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