Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
The thing is, I wasn’t consciously trying to hide anything from Ashley or force her hand. It wasn’t until Ashley’s angry reaction to the truth about how I felt about her and the revised will, was I able to see for myself how fucked up it was not to have told her the truth sooner.
In my mind at the time, I suppose I thought it was romantic, but looking at it through Ashley’s eyes, I can see why she felt angry. I can see why she thought I was trying to force her to marry me whether she wanted to or not.
I suppose in some ways I was, but not in a creepy ‘you’ll marry me whether you like it or not’ sort of a way. More, in my mind at least a, ‘I love you and I just want you to see that maybe you could feel the same about me once you really get to know me’ sort of a way.
“Are you okay man?” My best man Toby asks, putting his hand on my shoulder. He is peering at me like he doesn’t quite know what to make of me and his face is creased with concern.
“Yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. But you look really white, like you’re going to flake out on me or something,” he replies.
“I’m just nervous,” I reassure, forcing a smile.
Just nervous. There’s an understatement. I know you’re meant to be a little nervous on your wedding day, but it’s meant to be about saying the vows wrong, or the flowers not showing up, and maybe a tiny bit of will she come or won’t she come type of nerves. Maybe even a few nerves about how well you’ll be able to perform in bed after a long day filled with too much booze and too much food.
But I’m pretty sure it’s not meant to be because the odds of the bride turning up are slim to none. Realistically, I’m putting the odds at eighty - twenty, that’s an eighty percent chance she won’t show up. But despite all of this, there’s still a tiny bit of hope inside of me. I’ve defied the odds before and maybe, just maybe, I can do it again.
I look at my watch for what feels like the one hundredth time since I got up here. There’s another six or seven minutes to wait before Ashley is even due and I know without a doubt they’re going to be the longest minutes of my life. To distract myself, I look around the hall.
It’s a big hall with huge crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the lights are dimmed enough to give the place a dreamy, romantic atmosphere. And the whole place is covered in camellias.
I scan the crowd to see a lot of familiar faces, before I spot Ashley’s family in their seats, minus her dad who is likely pacing around somewhere himself. I’m not sure if seeing them here is a good thing or a bad thing. It’s good that they’re here at all, surely Ashley would have told them if she wasn’t going to be here? But they look on edge, looking at their watches and shuffling uncomfortably in their seats, as though they too think there’s a fair chance Ashley isn’t about to walk down the aisle.
I hear movement behind me and I turn around.
Our minister, who insists we don’t need all of the formality and we should just call him Kevin, has arrived from behind his little side door. “Finn,” he smiles warmly, taking my hand in his and pumping it enthusiastically. “You look nervous.”
“I am,” I admit. I don’t elaborate. A wedding is one of the few occasions where no one expects you to elaborate on why you’re nervous.
“You think this is bad,” Toby jokes, “wait until it hits him what he’s about to do and he makes a run for it.”
I frown at him.
“Relax man. It’s just a joke,” he hisses under his breath and starts to laugh.
Kevin doesn’t seem to know quite what to say to this. He smiles awkwardly at Toby and then keeps shooting me furtive little glances, like he thinks I might be a flight risk or something. If only he knew, it isn’t me he should be worrying about.
I look back out into the hall. Pretty much everyone is seated now. Every seat is filled except the one waiting for Ashley’s dad after he walks her down the aisle, and it is a lot of people to witness my shame, or rather my mom’s shame, and my heartbreak.
I check my watch again, as the groomsmen begin to file out of the back of the room as arranged. They’ll wait there for their bridesmaids and walk down the aisle with them. There’s less than a minute to go and from the quick flash of the hallway I get when the groomsmen are filing out, there isn’t a bridesmaid in sight.