Before I Do(10)

“Audrey, my name’s Audrey.”

He reached across a hand and gripped hers firmly.

“Hi, Audrey, I’m Fred.”





6


One Day Before I Do



Audrey waited around the corner of the pub in case anyone saw her hovering through the front window of the dining room. She peered around the wall. What if Clara failed to lure him outside? What if Miranda insisted on coming out at the same time? Her heart was beating so fast, it felt as though it might be trying to break out of her chest.

She heard Clara’s voice before she saw them.

“It’s just that we want to get as many names on the plate before tomorrow as possible, so I’m rounding people up when I can, and since you were already standing . . .”

Audrey shouldn’t have doubted her friend. Clara was impossible to say no to. It was why she was so good at her job. She was an image consultant in the music industry, which entailed persuading musicians to do, wear, and say things they might not otherwise want to.

“Sure, sure, no problem,” she heard Fred say. His voice sounded the same, slightly lilting, with that gravelly edge.

Audrey pressed her back against the wall, her body tense. This had been a terrible idea, to meet him in the car park. It suddenly felt too covert, too underhand, as though she had something to hide. But there was no time to regret the decision further; he had turned the corner and was now standing in front of her.

“This is Audrey, by the way. I don’t know if you’ve met. She’s the one getting married,” Clara said, her eyes flitting back and forth between the two of them.

He stood still, frozen midstep, and Clara took this as her cue to retreat toward the pub’s front door.

“Audrey?” he said in almost a whisper, as though distrusting the word. The directness of his gaze sent a tingle down her arms, and she clenched her hands into fists at her sides.

“I saw it was you when you walked in and, um, I didn’t want you to recognize me across a table full of people, in case you reacted like, well, like you’re reacting now.” Her words were rushed; she stumbled over them.

“Miranda only told me your name on the train. Whenever I hear the name Audrey, I always think of you.”

“You agreed to come to the wedding of two people whose names you didn’t even know?” Audrey asked, shaking her head and letting out a disbelieving laugh.

“Miranda asked me if I’d come to her brother’s wedding, she didn’t fill me in on the details.” He eyed her with a calm, confident gaze. “You never called me.”

“You didn’t come, the day we agreed.” She bit her lip. “And you never called me.”

“Something happened the day we were supposed to meet. I did try to call, I tried to find you, I waited by our booth, so many times—”

“It doesn’t matter now,” she said, cutting him off. It wouldn’t help her to hear his excuses. The fact that he remembered too, that he might have remembered it as she did, was only going to make his presence here more confusing. “It was all a long time ago.”

“I can’t believe it is really you.” He smiled now, his shock dissipating. “Audrey the Astronomer, you haven’t changed a bit.”

He raked a hand through his hair, his eyes darting back to the pub door to check they were still alone, then he took a step toward her, erasing some of the space between them. “This is kind of . . . strange timing, right?” he said, his voice hushed.

She felt herself being pulled into some invisible web, his proximity scrambling her senses. She pressed her nails into her palms, reminding herself why she’d come out here, what it was she needed to say.

“I know. Look, I’d rather no one knew that we’ve met before.” His eyes were drilling into her, beseeching her with silent questions. “That’s the reason I came out here to talk to you. I don’t want to tell everyone the story this weekend, it would be a distraction. It might make Josh feel uncomfortable, Miranda too.”

“Sure,” he said softly, a flash of disappointment in his eyes. “Of course, I understand.”

“You won’t say anything?”

“No.” He shook his head, but his eyes stayed glued to hers. “I can’t believe it is really you, or that you’re getting married.”

Thunder cracked in the distance. A storm was on the way.

“We should go back in,” Audrey said. “My mother-in-law will be upset that we haven’t ordered our food yet.”

His mouth opened as though he had more to say, as though he knew if he didn’t say it now, he would not get another chance. But Audrey didn’t want to hear it. What could he say that would be helpful? What would it change if she heard his excuses—why he hadn’t called, why he hadn’t come? So she turned toward the back door before he could speak. He reached out a hand for her arm, and a current passed between them, like a burn. She flinched and then saw in his eyes that he had felt it too.

“I want to explain—I did look for you, Audrey, you disappeared . . .”

Audrey frowned. “I disappeared?” she said indignantly, then checked herself. “We need to go back in before we’re missed, please.”

Audrey shook her head and stalked purposefully back to the door, back to the rehearsal dinner, back to Josh, the man she was marrying tomorrow.