Before I Do(84)

* * *





Josh had booked them two nights in a remote cabin in the woods. As he opened the door, they found a large futon bed in the middle of the room, draped in cozy sheepskin rugs, and floor-level lanterns. Best of all, above them was a glass ceiling, revealing the entire pristine, star-speckled sky.

“It’s a stargazing pod,” Josh explained.

“I am not going to sleep,” Audrey said, jumping onto the bed. “How will we sleep when there’s all this to look at?”

“I feel the same whenever I’m in a bed with you,” said Josh, lowering himself down beside her, kissing her neck as he unbuttoned her blouse.

“Josh, this is the most incredible, thoughtful present, I . . . I love you.”

And it felt so natural, she didn’t even brace herself to say it. She loved him. She loved that he was trying to plant a thousand trees to make the world a better place. She loved how considerate he was to strangers. She loved how self-conscious he was when he wore his glasses, how his top lip started to sweat when he got embarrassed. She loved how oblivious he was to the attention he got from other women. She loved how he had a list on his phone of every book he’d ever read. She loved that he unknowingly whistled Winnie the Pooh songs to himself when he ironed. She loved the way he held her, as though she was something precious, and she loved the way his broad, firm body felt against hers.

“I love you too,” he said. “More than you can know.”

After they made love, Audrey lay in his arms and pointed out all the constellations they could see. She told him the stories she knew, many that her father had told her.

“Isn’t it strange to think that every human who’s ever lived has looked up at this same sky, and that all these stars will still be here long after every one of us is gone? My dad used to tell me we’re all made of stardust—that’s where the atoms in our bodies originally came from.” She paused, feeling overwhelmed by a strange cocktail of emotions. “This has been the best night of my life.”

“Me too,” he said.

They fell asleep with their bodies entwined, Audrey’s head on his chest as she listened to the steady beat of his heart.





50


Five Hours After I Didn’t



Audrey felt as though she’d woken up from a dream and arrived in a nightmare.

“I don’t understand what has happened. Why did Josh leave?” Vivien asked as Clara tried to pull a gray shirtdress over Audrey’s limp body. “Do you know what this is all about?” Vivien asked Clara.

Audrey looked up at Clara, then gave a small nod of the head, allowing her friend to explain.

“Fred is someone from Audrey’s past. Him showing up out of the blue at the wedding just got Audrey a little confused, and then with the reverend, and everything else going wrong—well, it’s been a stressful day for everyone.”

That was one way of putting it.

“It’s all my fault,” Audrey said. “I’ve made a mess of everything. Benedict told me this would happen, he said, ‘I hope one day you love someone, maybe even plan to marry them, and someone comes along and ruins it for you.’ Look, someone has, it was me.” Audrey slowly pulled her knees to her chest.

Vivien exhaled, a long breathy exhale, then she sat down on the bed.

“Clara, would you leave us, please?” she said.

Clara looked between the two women, seemingly indecisive about whether she should go. “I’ll be outside if you need me,” she said, squeezing Audrey’s shoulder.

Once they were alone, Vivien said, “What on earth has Benedict got to do with Josh leaving?”

“You asked if I was sure about Benedict, and I wasn’t.” She kept her eyes on the floor, unable to look up at her mother. “What if I was wrong? What if I ruined your happiness on a gut feeling?”

“Audrey, he was not a good man.”

Audrey took a huge gulp of air, as though loading a gun, readying it to fire.

“I don’t even know what happened anymore, I just felt uncomfortable around him. He did touch me in his gallery, but . . . not explicitly, he was looking for a light switch, it could have been an accident.” She rubbed her hands against her face, against her lips, trying to pull the words out. How many times had she raked over the events of that morning in her mind? “Just because I didn’t like it, maybe that didn’t make it wrong. You were so happy and then he left, and I stole that from you, and then I couldn’t be around you, couldn’t stand to see how broken you were because of me.”

Still, she didn’t dare look up. She didn’t want to see the disappointment, the anger, at this admission. When she finally dared to look at her mother, she saw that Vivien was crying.

“And you’ve felt like this, all these years, that it was your words alone that made me throw him out?”

She nodded then, before starting to sob. “I’ve felt so guilty, every day since he left. Some days it’s so heavy, I think it’s going to pull me under.”

“Then this is all my fault,” Vivien said quietly.

Audrey looked up at her from the floor, feeling tears run down her cheek.

“I had no idea you felt bad about it. When you said what you did about Benedict, I . . . I’d already had my doubts. It was a feeling I had not let myself dwell upon—I was too besotted.” She paused, knitting and unknitting her hands in her lap. “I didn’t want to listen.”