Before I Do(80)

She picked the bride back up, walked further down the corridor, and entered the Grand Suite through a narrow conservatory at the far end of the dance floor. It was separated from the main room by a wall of dark blue glass. In the conservatory stood the photo booth. It was just like the one in Baker Street all those years before, hired from the same company, perhaps even the very same one. Was it disloyal that she had wanted one at their wedding? She told herself it was not just something she associated with Fred; the photo booth was where her love of photography had begun—it had shaped her whole career path, her ambition to become a photographer.

In the relative quiet of the conservatory, with the band still playing, she stroked the illuminated panel of the booth. She sat down on the stool inside; the money slot now asked for tokens rather than pounds, and there was a pile on the ledge, waiting to be used by wedding guests. She pressed one into the narrow slot and saw her face in the booth’s mirror. She thought she looked terrible. Unhinged.

Then the curtain drew back, and there was Fred, of course.

“You’re here,” he said with a huge grin.

“I am here,” she said, looking up at him. His piercing green eyes focused on hers, full of questions, full of hope. His head tilted to one side, his wild blond hair nudging the doorway of the booth. She didn’t get up from the stool. She wanted to stay here, in the place synonymous with good things, with innocence, with the time before she’d felt wretched and guilty and directionless. Fred dropped to his knees, so he was looking up at her. He reached out and took her hand.

“The band is playing our song, and here you are in our booth.”

She sat, blinking down at him.

“I think everything that’s happened today is a cosmic red thread, leading me to you. I’m not going to pressure you at all. I just need you to know, I still feel it too.”

Audrey stood up, suddenly claustrophobic in the booth with him blocking her exit. Fred must have read her standing up as an acceptance, as her running into his arms, because he stood too and pulled her toward him, pressing his lips firmly to hers.

With her head swimming, the shock of his firm kiss and confident arms, Audrey found herself momentarily a passenger in his embrace, her mind not quick enough to register what was happening, not quick enough to stop it.

“Audrey?”

Audrey pulled her lips away, but Fred’s arms stayed where they were as they both turned their heads to see Josh standing in the doorway of the conservatory, a horrified expression on his face.





47


Thirteen Months Before I Do



Audrey didn’t know how much time had passed before she noticed Josh standing over her. Panic attacks tended to distort her sense of time. She was still sitting in the courtyard at Priah, looking up at the Ibizan night sky, when Josh found her.

“Here you are,” he said calmly. “Can I join you?”

She nodded silently, gearing herself up to explain something that she couldn’t.

“I . . . Josh, I’m sorry, I . . . I had a panic attack.”

“You don’t need to explain,” he said gently. “Can I do anything?” Audrey shook her head. He sat down beside her. “If you need to sit and look at the sky, you can sit for as long as you need to. I just hope that sometimes, you will let me come and sit beside you.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it. Being able to sit with someone and not have all the answers, that was love.

By the time they left the courtyard, their table had been given to someone else. They bought chips from a roadside stall and walked down to an empty beach to eat them.

“I’m sorry about the restaurant,” Audrey said.

“It’s fine. I think these chips are just as good as the kohlrabi scallops and squid risotto. Maybe better, more potatoey.” She smiled at this, at his unwavering ability to see the best in every situation. He put his hand over hers. “Do you want to talk about it?” She shook her head. She didn’t. “I hope it’s nothing I said?”

“No, God no. Just something in the restaurant reminded me of someone and . . . my brain makes these silly, irrational connections.”

“My brain does that too sometimes,” he said.

“It does?” Audrey asked in surprise.

“Yes. Like when I see Chipsticks in the supermarket, it makes me smile because I think of you. I can’t walk past a coffee bar menu now without wondering which weird fruit-based coffee you would order if you were with me. Whenever I see stars, I want to know what constellations you would be pointing out. My mind has been Audreyed.”

Audrey felt something melt inside her.

“That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.” She leaned over to kiss him.

“Really? With all those romantic films you watch, I feel like there’s a high bar for romantic declarations—I’ve been led to believe all the great love stories must end with a dance routine on a Greek island. I wasn’t sure musings about Chipsticks were going to cut it.”

“Well, your musings were definitely better than Andrew Lincoln holding up all those signs in Love Actually,” she said with a smirk, because she knew Josh hated that scene.

“I don’t know who could find that amount of wasted paper romantic,” Josh said, his tone completely serious.

“Not me.” Audrey bit back a grin.