Sydney (Book One) (That Wedding Girl 1) (2 page)

So many scattered thoughts are running through me as I walk as calmly and quietly as possible back to the dining hall.

Is this real? Surely this can’t be real…

He wouldn’t do this to me…no he can’t…

That fucking bastard.

“Lacey, darl, you are as pale as a ghost, like more than usual. Let me put some more bronzer on you stat,” I hear Gabe call out to me but it’s just a blur, everyone else is a blur because I only have tunnel vision for one person.

My entire body is numb. Could Adam, the man I’ve been with for six years, do this to me? Surely he wouldn’t…he couldn’t…

The letter is sitting crumpled in my right hand, and it is taking all my might to not destroy it in one of the many ways I can conjure up. I stop at my seat and Adam keeps his back to me, laughing away to some sleazy anecdote Hansley is recalling.

“So I walk up to this blonde and ask her if she wanted to have good sex. She goes no way. You know what I said? Come back to my place then!”

He is greeted by a throng of haughty male laughter, but I am in no mood right now. Clenching my fist, the paper contorts with my touch, which gets Adam’s attention who turns around to face me.  “There you are.”

He remains seated and looks calm, completely unaware of what’s about to hit him.

“Laylay, what’s wrong?” It only takes him a few moments to notice my eyeballs bulging out of their sockets. What I wouldn’t give to go to my handbag and take out my roast almond chocolate bar, but there’s a time and place for everything.

“Tell me this is a joke. Please…just tell me,” I say quietly, my hands shaking.

“What are you talking about?” He stands up to touch my arm. “Come on babe—”

I pull away immediately. The thought of him touching me right now repulses me.
He
repulses me.

“Do not touch me! Just tell me it’s a joke. That’s all I want to hear!” I yell as I toss the scrunched up piece of paper at his chest which bounces off him and falls to the ground. Adam, thrown off by my outburst, stumbles backwards, crashing into Hansley causing the chair to squeak and echo loudly throughout the hall.

My parents stand up and look over at the end of the table, their eyes filled with concern. Hansley looks flabbergasted. Gabe is looking at me like I’m a lunatic, mouthing ‘
What the fuck
?’. They will know, very soon.
I
will know, very soon.

Adam ignores the letter lying on the floor in front of him. I can see the semblance of guilt in those blue specks, a thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead. He
knows
what I am talking about.

“Laylay, stop this. Not now.” He growls once again tries to reach for me but I pull back, my emotions bursting to the seam

“So you admit it? Why, why, why? I hate your fucking guts!” are the last words I cry out before covering my face with my hands, and I just stand there in front of everyone in my emotionally wrecked state.

“I didn’t admit anything; can you please calm down? Geez, get a grip,” Adam mutters under his breath. Everything I thought I knew, thought was real, is being revealed as a sham. The world I knew is crumbing under my feet, disappearing before my very eyes.

“What the heck is going on? Can someone please fill me in? Sis?” Hansley stands up and gets behind me, grabbing me by the shoulders tightly.

“Tell your sister to calm down,” Adam says politely. He knows my brother will beat him to a bloody pulp if he found out. And he will.

“Why don’t you tell everyone just
why
I’m like this, huh? I think everyone ought to know…”
what a cheating scumbag you are.
I scan the room to see a mix of emotions on everyone’s faces. Confusion, despair, concern – and satiation, but that’s just my fifteen-year-old cousin Bob, a typical horny and pimple ridden teenager, who is always hungry. 

My temples are throbbing and all these thoughts are running in my head. What is everyone thinking? How could this be happening to me? Is this really happening to me?

He doesn’t reply. Very well, he gives me no choice.

“I just came across a
very
interesting letter which I felt compelled to discuss with Adam and all of you. Would everyone like to hear about it?” I’m keen to humiliate him.

“Yeah, I would!” my cousin Bob hollers.

“
Don’t
. Not here,” Adam warns me, his eyes filled with dread.

I bend down to pick it up but he gets in before me and scoops it up, using his hand like a crane. He stuffs it tightly into this trouser pocket and has a look of triumph on his face. That schmuck, I’m not going to let him get away with it.

“Lucky for you, I have a photographic memory.” I clear my dry throat and proceed to go on, knowing that every word I spit out will only hurt me, my family, and loved ones.

Hansley’s hands grip my shoulders tighter and leans his head closer to the back of mine, it feels protective. My brother always has my back when I need him to.

“Adam’s been cheating on me, with his co-worker Katerina. She’s this busty blonde. You know the type; tanned and blue eyed. Yeah, the complete opposite of me just in case you didn’t get the picture,” I say as loudly as I can, my voice echoing throughout the room.

“Whoa, she sounds
hot,
” Bob utters out loud.

Almost immediately, gasps fall like dominoes and everyone turns to each other to gossip. Saying it out loud doesn’t give me any satisfaction, in fact it’s the opposite. It feels real now.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Hansley’s eyes, usually friendly and approachable, contort to a sinister expression. Adam starts to walk away from him, not forgetting that Hansley is the one with the temper in the family. He lets go of me and makes a move toward Adam, who quickens his pace backward, away from the table.

“I can explain, mate,” Adam stammers with his hands in the air. “I am
not
your mate,” he growls and without any hesitation he swings at Adam with a right hook, knocking him down to the ground, standing over him. Hansley might be a jokester but he knows when to be serious.

More gasps ensue and everyone starts standing, including mum and dad. Dad puts his arm around her and they look at me with sad eyes. Dad would stroke my hair and make me hot chocolate, and mom would tell me to chin up and straighten my hair.

I can see people crowding around Adam and noise starts to flutter around me when someone grabs me by the hand, dragging me away from the small crowd.

“Let’s get out of here,” Gabe whispers in my ear, rushing me out of the hall and sweeps me into the private bathroom; the place where my life came apart in the space of minutes.

With the door locked tight and the light switched on, it’s just the two of us in this cold tiled room. As I lean on the white door, I can still hear the noises coming from the other room. Muffled yelling, the sound of chairs grinding against the timber floor and what I can only assume are some things being thrown on the ground.

Gabe runs his perfectly manicured fingers through his hair as he leans on the vanity. “Okay, what was that? That was certainly not part of the run sheet.”

I don’t know…I’m still in shock. Everybody loves Adam.
I
love Adam, or at least I did fifteen minutes ago. My knees are jittery, and I press my back to the door to support myself. All I know right now is, he is the only person I want to be with in a time like this. Both of us locked away from all the commotion outside

“That letter…” is all I can manage, but it hurts to recount anymore.

“There’s no way it’s true, is it?”

I study his perfectly tanned face and the realisation glazes over. His puzzlement quickly turns to anger and his usually sparkly brown eyes look dim, as a dark expression takes over.

“I’m going to bitch slap him
so hard
,” he cusses, going towards the door.

“No, don’t. Please stay.” I raise a hand to block him, pleading with him.

I need him here, to hold me up, to tell me everything is going to be okay; to suggest having a junk food night.

“Just stroke my hair,” I mumble and sink into his shoulders, asking the one thing he does when I need temporary stress relief. I sniff his comforting lemon soap smell, which is mixed with some mint.

“Oh CeCe, I’m sorry,” he utters my nickname, holding my head as runs his fingers through my product laden hair. “What a shit storm.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself. We stand locked in each other’s arms as we listen to the muffled sound of yelling, cussing, and furniture moving around outside. How am I supposed to negotiate this? How do I create a spread sheet to tabulate my feelings?

“How did you find the letter?” Gabe asks as I release myself from the comfort of his toned chest.

“It was in his pocket and I…” just a few words but I can’t continue.  Nothing can remove the contents of that letter from my memory. It’s going to be burned forever in the back of my skull.

“That prick.”  He turns around to grab a tissue and hands it to me but I have no need for it. I refuse to cry for being humiliated like this, it’s a sign of weakness and I’m not weak.

“Do you know the woman?”

“Not really, just some girl in marketing. But I don’t get it. They didn’t even work with each other!” I say in frustration, crumpling the tissue in my hand.

“Yeah, he’s supposed to be wining and dining clients and bring home the bacon. Clearly, he wanted to…” Gabe stops himself from making a tongue-in-cheek joke, which he does whenever the chance arises.

I turn around and face the door, and he rests his hand on my shoulder

“Come on, let’s make a quick escape, and go back to my place? I know a margarita and tub of vanilla bean ice cream with your name on it. God knows,
I
need a drink,” Gabe suggests, “and chocolate of course.”

I shake my head. “Let’s just stay here a bit longer.”

I can’t bear to face the reality of what’s on the other side of the door – the anger, the commotion, the noise, and the
pity
. God, I can’t stand the idea of people pitying me; I’ll take anything else over it.

“How do you feel? Aside from the obvious, what’s going through your mind right now?”

I pause to think about his question because it’s difficult to answer. We’ve been together so long, we even live together, I thought it was a no brainer. We were set for life, committed to being with one another forever. Everything I’ve believed for so long has just been torn apart, burnt to a crisp without my consent. Everything I had planned for the rest of my life has changed irrevocably.

“At the risk of getting slapped for asking, do you want to talk to him? You can slap me if you must, but the left cheek please, not the nice side of my face.”

I let out a soft chuckle. “No. Not yet.”

Thirty minutes pass, we are still sitting on the cold marble floor with towels as cushioning. The noise outside subsides, but now the reality of my situation sinks in. My fiancée cheated on me, and I find out the night before we were supposed to get married. There’s nothing I can do. There’s nothing I can arrange or organise to change this cold hard fact.

How could I have not known?
Shouldn’t
I have known? There were never any signs he was unhappy, and on the other side of the spectrum I never saw any suspicious behaviour. There was never any perfume wafting from his shirt collar, No sudden phone calls he had to take in the middle of dinner. He never even showed signs of annoyance or panic when I would glimpse over his shoulder when he was on his phone too long.

We were happy. I was, at least.

“Did you ever suspect anything?”

I give him my come-on-seriously eyes. “No, I really didn’t. I would have told you. Believe me.”

“That’s true, you do overthink everything. In a good way, of course.”

“I guess I’ve been so busy with work that I….” I trail off and already I can sense another wave of emotion wash over. “I put it as my first priority over everything.”

Gabe reaches out to grab my right hand. “Hey, don’t you
dare
blame yourself for one second alright? You should only be proud for everything you have achieved. This has nothing to do with you. He is just a d-bag all on his own.”

Where would I be without Gabe? To everyone else, I’m the efficient, organised and shrewd businesswoman, but he’s the only one I would let see me like this. “I only achieved everything with you by my side, don’t forget,” I add with a frail smile. 

“Well, you’re the brains and backbone; I’m just the pretty face!”

I squeeze his hand. “You’re my business partner, not my assistant. Don’t
you
forget that.”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway we’ve been in here almost forty-five minutes. As much as I love you, I really hate public bathrooms. Come on, I’ll take you home and get you liquored up.”

“And you think I do? Gimme a break and let me grieve!” I attempt to make a joke. “Okay, let’s go. That ice cream sounds pretty good right now.”