Before I Do(82)
He shook his head, closed his eyes, as Audrey sobbed, “Josh, I love you—”
“But you kept this,” he said, hurt juddering his words. “All these years. Why?”
“It was a moment in time. It meant something to me then. The person I used to be.”
“So he’s right.”
She couldn’t lie anymore, not now. “There was a time I did think about him,” she conceded. “But it was a fantasy, it was never real.”
Only as she said it did she realize how true this was. Fred had always been a what-if, a symbol of everything that might have been—what if she hadn’t failed her math exam, what if she’d never gone to the gallery with Benedict, what if she hadn’t ruined her mother’s relationship for a third time. Josh looked down at the strip of photos, then threw them onto the bed, raking both hands through his hair. “Well, you can have your fantasy, Audrey, I’m done. Do you think you’re an easy person to love? You’re not. But I did, unreservedly, every minute of every day, and now I see you never felt that way about me. I sensed deep down you were holding something back.”
“Josh, no. You’re wrong. I did, I do, I do love you!” Audrey cried.
But Josh wasn’t listening. He’d already picked up his suitcase, which stood on the floor, waiting to be unpacked, and stormed out the door.
* * *
Audrey pulled off her dress; it was restricting her ability to move, to run, and she needed to go after him. As she stood in her underwear, looking for something to put on, she almost didn’t notice that Fred was standing in the hallway.
“Audrey, I’m sorry—” Fred started talking, and Audrey looked up at him, wearing only her underpants and bra. She strode into the hall and spoke right into his face.
“How dare you walk into my life like this and tear it all down? I said no! Last night I said no, today I said no, I didn’t choose you, I chose Josh.”
“You kissed me back,” he said firmly.
She screamed up at the ceiling, a guttural, animal cry, just as Hillary, Clara, and Vivien came up the stairs into the corridor. She screamed again, kicking the wall, as her audience looked on, wide-eyed.
“Right,” said Clara, stepping forward and steering a half-naked Audrey back into the bedroom. She looked around the room for some clothes. “Let’s get dressed, shall we, take this down a notch? This is all feeling a little Kardashian.”
“I don’t want to calm down!” Audrey screamed.
“Darling, are you quite well? Everyone can hear you. Why are you in your underwear? Where is Josh going?” Vivien asked.
Audrey looked out the window and saw Josh getting into his car.
“Hillary, Josh is leaving. Please, please stop him.”
Hillary did as he was asked, running back down the corridor, and they heard the thud of his feet thundering down the stairs.
“Why are you here?” Vivien asked Fred, looking back and forth between him and Audrey, her eyes snagging on Audrey’s bra and underpants.
“I’ll give you some space, shall I?” Fred said to Audrey, his eyes pleading for some kind of reassurance.
She picked up the kettle from the side table and threw it at the wall.
“Okay, and scene. Do I need to call a doctor?” Vivien asked. “Have you taken something?”
“You need to go,” Clara told Fred, but he had already turned to leave.
“Audrey,” Vivien said firmly. “A little decorum, please.”
Audrey ran to the window to see Hillary run out into the driveway, but he was too late. Josh’s car, which had “Just Married” written on the back and cans trailing from the back bumper, was already driving away. Then all the fight left her. Her rage evaporated, and she sank to the floor, knowing, deep down, that she had no one to blame but herself.
Why had she been dwelling on Benedict today, on Fred, on Vivien? Why had she let her mind filter her relationship with Josh and show it to her through a distorted, doubting lens? She knew that was not the whole picture, that she had left out so much of the story.
49
Two and a Half Years Before I Do
“You know you just turned north?” Audrey said as Josh turned his car the wrong way onto the motorway.
“Damn,” Josh said, drumming his hand against the wheel. “I’d hoped you weren’t going to notice that.”
“Why, where are we going?”
They’d driven to Yorkshire for the weekend to meet Josh’s parents and the formidable Granny Parker. Now they were supposed to be driving home to London.
“I wanted it to be a surprise, but I need the GPS to get me there.”
Audrey leaned forward in the passenger seat. “Are we running off to Gretna Green?” she asked conspiratorially.
“Do you want to run off to Gretna Green?” he asked, glancing across to the passenger seat.
“We’ve established your family would never approve of a marriage, since I’m not from Yorkshire, so I think Gretna Green is our only option.”
Clearly, she was joking. It had been six months; they were hardly about to elope. It was going well between them, disconcertingly well, but Audrey hadn’t even said “I love you” yet. Josh had said it to her. They’d been walking hand in hand across the Millennium Bridge one evening. They’d stopped in the middle to watch the sky reflected in the Thames, and Josh had turned to her and said, “I love you, Audrey.” She had said, “Thank you.” Thank you? What was wrong with her?