Almost Mine Read online

  ‘Are you ok?’ he asked me, and I answered with a slow nod and the sort of pained smile that is dragged from the depths of anguish and helplessness that I was sure that we both felt. I opened my mouth to speak but he stopped me. ‘Please, don’t say it,’ he murmured. I reached my hand across to his and interlaced our fingers, mostly so that I could easily stop him if he tried to walk away from me, but also because I suddenly needed to feel his skin on mine.

  ‘I want to marry you, Nick,’ I said. I squeezed his fingers in my grasp, but I could never hold him down if he didn’t want to be. He pulled his hands away from mine to create a platonic distance between us.

  ‘You’re no longer tied to me, so don’t feel obligated to follow through with the wedding,’ he delivered his well-rehearsed monotone answer. He sounded sure of himself, but his tell-tale, unfaithful lower lip trembled nervously, revealing his fear.

  ‘But I want to marry you.’

  ‘Tell me why. And I want the truth,’ he dared me, just like old times.

  I didn’t miss a beat. ‘Because I never realised what we could give each other before. We both want to get married young, we both want children.’ I took his hands again. ‘Family is the most important part of both of our lives, and I can’t imagine sharing something like that with anyone else but you.’

  ‘Not because you love me?’ he said with a hint of hope, and I faltered, straightening my shoulders slightly. Of course he was hurt, but also intrigued by my decision. ‘You’d accept me as your husband even though you don’t love me? Don’t you want more for yourself?’

  ‘You can give me the family that I’ve dreamed of and I love you for that.’ It was all I could offer in all honesty. He seemed to ponder this for a few seconds before he let out a resigned sigh. ‘I do love you, Nick. I guess I’m not as generous as you are with it.’

  ‘Well, I guess that’s all I can hope for, for now.’ His lips upturned a fraction. ‘And Roy?’ I swallowed hard and I knew he recognised the hesitation that I’d hidden very well so far. We both knew what Roy was to me, and how raw my break-up still was. After all, Roy was still my life-line less than four months ago and he had aided me to camouflage so much anguish for all of those blurred years; but he was a band-aid that had served its purpose, and, for the greater good, he had to be ripped off and discarded.

  ‘It’s over,’ I finally assured him despite the fact that my insides clenched as I muttered the words.

  ‘Be absolutely positive that this is what you want. Marriage is a once in a life time thing for me, and you are the one that I choose to be my wife. I know that I’m not your first choice, but I will not give you any reason to regret choosing me as your husband. This opportunity, as crass as it sounds, is your only chance to get out of this. You know how much I love you, but I’m willing to let you go if that’s what makes you happy. This has to be your decision alone.’

  I refocussed my attention from the past and to the future. I smiled. ‘Do you want to know what I think?’

  ‘Always.’

  ‘I think that the baby, our baby…I think that he was sent to us to show me how good we can be together, to give me a much needed slap upside the head, pushing me to see you for who you really are. I don’t want to take this chance and waste it. And I don’t want to take it for granted that another you will come along; someone as loyal and steadfast and devoted as you. You are top-shelf quality, you know.’ I leaned in and kissed his mouth and he leaned into my lips, letting go of my hands only to tenderly cup my face as he kissed me back. ‘I really do want this,’ I repeated before I kissed him more persuasively, hoping that he wouldn’t ask for any more reassurance, but then my lips froze as I belatedly realised one vital element. ‘That is of course that you actually still want to marry me, and that my not being pregnant any more is not an out for you.’

  With his fingers now entangled in my honey blonde hair he pulled my mouth to his again. ‘You’re crazy if you believe that,’ he murmured against my lips and kissed me deeply to prove it. Under my palms I felt his heart pick up speed and I had no way of denying what he wanted. Though I kissed him back without hesitation, there was something that I needed to know before we reset the wedding plans back into motion. I pulled back.

  ‘Then help me to understand where all of this certainty is coming from. I could never understand why you felt, or feel, so strongly toward me.’

  He faltered and shifted uncomfortably, reforming our shoulder to shoulder position as if the moment had not a second ago seamlessly merged from platonic to the cusp of passion.

  I acknowledged his discomfort. ‘I’m not asking this to put you on the spot, or for an ego boost, or for any other reason than to wrap my head around where all of this is coming from. Surely someone as plain and unremarkable as me cannot invoke such love and deserve it. I really don’t think that I’m as special as you make me feel.’

  He spoke as if he was explaining an obvious answer to a simple question. ‘True beauties can never recognise who they are, and that’s why they are so unique and absolutely breathtaking.’

  ‘So two plus two equals four? Ordinary Cate equals breathtaking beauty?’

  ‘You’re a quick learner,’ he grinned.

  ‘You think that you’ve found a lost treasure and that I’m a rarity to behold,’ I laughed with scepticism, dramatically reciting the words as if in a play on Broadway, ‘as if letting me go would be like throwing a pearl into the deepest of oceans, never to be found again?’

  ‘You took the words right out of my mouth. But, it’s more than that. There’s something about you that has always resonated with me.’

  I turned on the step and eyed him with intrigued curiosity as if he were about to explain to me an urban myth, and doubted that he could make his explanation plausible. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I don’t know how to explain it without being cheesy.’

  I nudged his knee with mine. ‘Give it a go.’

  ‘Ok, well, when I see you, my heart races and when you leave it stops. When you smile I smile and when you cry I want to bring hell down on the reason for your tears. All I know is that I would stop at nothing to give you everything, and I’d do this because I know that every need that you have comes from the deepest part of your heart, and not from an entitled want. You’re breathtaking when you daydream as you watch the wind blow through the tree tops, and when you use the very tips of your fingers to tuck your soft hair behind your ears and when you dip your chin and blush when someone gives you a compliment—.’

  ‘Ok, that’s enough,’ I laughed sheepishly and then dipped my chin as my cheeks turned pink.

  ‘I could go on, you know.’

  ‘Spare me. That really was cheesiest of cheesy.’

  ‘But, nevertheless, it is as true as the sky is blue.’ Our attention was drawn to the leaden clouds above us, ‘or grey in today’s case. I love you, Cate. Who knows exactly why people feel the way they do about each other. Perhaps I’m just pre-programmed to feel this way; like some people are born to play the piano or to be Olympians, I’m wired to love you.’

  ‘Can I just say that I feel a bit…’ I swallowed down the overwhelming lump in my throat.

  ‘It’s ok,’ he smiled, ‘we are not all pre-programmed. We can’t all be Bach.’

  ‘My not being Bach won’t disappoint you.’

  ‘It also won’t be the end of my world.’

  ‘So you’re saying that loving me isn’t a conscious choice?’

  ‘Maybe not, but what I do with what I feel is. I could always just ignore it, couldn’t I? From now on I choose not to.’

  This returned the smile to my face, and the beat to my heart.

  ‘Bach played the organ not the piano, anyway. Do you know what you’re going to get with me? Are you being honest with yourself?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ he winked. ‘My eyes are wide open.’

  ‘To watch you light up like this is amazing. I just can’t swallow that you have this feeling for little old me. And again, I’m n
ot fishing for anything. I just genuinely don’t get it.’

  ‘All of the many extraordinary wonders of the world deserve no explanation; we just appreciate them for what they are and we take awe in their existence.’

  ‘Ok Mr Love Extraordinaire of Shady Valley,’ I laughed, ‘tell me this: do you think that it has to be an instant connection for it to be “true love”?’

  ‘Great question, Peasant of Shady Valley,’ he grinned, ‘some great things are instant, but some things need nurture to grow. To make a sweet wine takes time and patience. Without it, a very bitter taste can be left in your mouth.’

  I sobered a touch. ‘Will that happen to us? Will we leave a bitter taste?’

  ‘Not if I can help it.’

  We sat pensive for a few moments as our jovial to and fro dissipated and we each remembered why we were here.

  ‘Are you sure that you’re ok?’ Nick asked.

  ‘You make everything ok.’

  His arm went around me and he pulled me close and kissed the crown of my head. ‘I should have come with you to see the doctor, I’m so sorry. I won’t ever let you down again, angel.’

  ‘There’s nothing you could have done. I’m fine…physically. Apparently there was no explainable reason why this has happened, which, they tell me, is good news.’

  ‘A silver lining on a very grey cloud,’ he murmured into my hair. ‘I can’t make this ok, but I will always try my absolute best to make sure that you’re safe and loved, like you deserve,’ he emphasised the last part.

  ‘I don’t doubt you for a second. Our lives are laid at our feet, all we need to do now is to grab on and enjoy the ride.’

  Chapter 5

  The wedding itself took on an impression of a couple in love, a perfect representation of what a wedding day should embody. The white marquee had been erected beside the old work shed that held many memories for Nick and me. The left side of the marquee had been pulled open so that the guests could enjoy a twinkling, charming view of our beloved — though now completely skeletal thanks to the winter for stealing the fragrant blooms — cherry blossoms that were now made stunning by way of strategically placed fairy lights among the delicate branches. The sprawling vineyard was beyond that and made for a sight in its own right as the fittingly perfect full moon lit the way, guiding guests on wistful strolls around the property, flutes filled with Cristal held lazily in hand.

  Inside the marquee, tables finished with silver and white place settings were set to the right of the mahogany dance floor. I had selected the centre-pieces myself weeks ago, thankfully, because if I’d had to make the final arrangements this week the fish bowl displays would have entailed shrivelled black roses to resemble my heart, not the yellow and pink roses that resembled the hope and joy that I’d felt back then. Pre-set favourites from our music collection, namely James Morrison, Duffy and Michael Bublé crooned over the sound system provided by the DJ.

  So, to the less-than-knowing eye, it was a perfect wedding day.

  However, I felt like a ghost, an apparition of my human self, as if I was viewing the vows, the kisses, and the speeches that were made today from a detached position above the small gathering. I’d tried my hardest, but the pain from the miscarriage only five days earlier had solidified my insides. So, the best solution was to go through the motions with as much bravery as I could muster, with squared shoulders and a strained smile. Nick remained steadfast by my side, only separating from me for a congratulatory hand shake or hug, and spoke for me when I couldn’t find the words, or when he recognised the threatening waterfall of tears in my eyes. Though my mouth spoke words of joy and happiness, my heart told a very different story. I wanted to be happy, for Nick; he was my saviour, but a genuinely joyous smile just could not be conjured.

  It wasn’t until the sublime dinner of chicken cordon-bleu and asparagus had been served and eaten — or, in my case, aimlessly scooted around my plate with my fork — and the bridle waltz had been announced by Nick’s eldest brother, Angus, our emcee, when I found my lips being all of a sudden pulled up at the corners in awe of my new husband.

  I watched him as he downed the last of his flute of Cristal, eyeing me mischievously as I awaited him in the centre of the makeshift dance floor. I poised myself to be swept into his arms, expecting “At Last” by Etta James — the song that we had short-listed a few weeks back despite the fact that I was not highly fond of it; a beautiful song, without a doubt, but our wedding was staged enough without adding a cliché to the mix. In my stupor of the last few days, I really didn’t care what noise played or that my Maggie Sottero veil — an unexpected gift from Lucy — would not be delivered on time, or that our flower girl’s flowers were not the same shade of pink as the centrepieces. All I cared about was the fact that I’d lost the one thing that was going to bring me the most intense, unconditional love of my life. My baby was gone, and it took with it my will to breathe.

  Our guests clapped and cooed in anticipation as Nick stood behind his chair and shrugged off his caramel coloured jacket. All the while his eyes remained fixed on mine as I waited for him, and I was taken aback by my deep reaction to his adoring gaze as my centre of gravity moved beneath me. He was dazzling, and he would only ever be mine.

  Nausea and guilt grew inside me as my nerves suddenly went into overdrive. What if I could never satisfy him? What if I could never repay him the priceless gift that he had committed himself to give to me? Was I culpable of stealing any chance that he had of having a wife who loved him back as much as he loved me?

  I swallowed hard as he grinned at me, loosening his matching caramel tie and unclasping the top button on his white shirt; immediately he was the epitome of relaxation. He mouthed the word breathe, and because my head whirred with such a mammoth responsibility, I did; it was that or faint in a crumpled satin heap on the floor. I dragged in a deep lungful of mountain air and my body calmed fractionally.

  I waited for an eternity for him to get to me while Nick had a quiet word with the DJ, and when he finally did, the gathering crowd clapped and cheered excitedly. They obviously had no conceivable idea that I would rather crawl into a hole and die than to put on a public display of affection, even if it was with my new husband and it was expected of me. But, despite my continuing stupor and unsettling nausea, an enthralled laugh escaped my throat as Nick came to stand in front of me; his air of unbridled confidence in my presence was a foreign sight to me, but here on the dance floor on our wedding day, he was positively buoyant with delight.

  ‘You’re really happy, aren’t you?’ I asked him as I observed every part of his face, mesmerised by what the emotion looked like on the outside, from his easy smile to his brows that were not at all crinkled like mine always seemed to be.

  ‘“Happy” seems tremendously understated I think.’ My nerves grew all at once wilder under the surface of my skin and my eyes widened. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ he asked, as a hint of a smirk pulled on his lips as if they were gating a secret behind them.

  I could hardly breathe let alone answer him. ‘Like what?’ I managed.

  ‘As if I’m about to lure you into the fires of hell.’

  ‘How do I know that you won’t?’

  He wrapped an arm around my waist and held my hand out to our side with the other, taking the pose that would begin a traditional waltz. He pulled me securely against him. ‘You know me better than that. Now, it’s about time that we get a little loose, don’t you think?

  ‘Nick,’ I warned, though all over my body my skin prickled with anticipation of what he had planned.

  ‘Do you trust me?’

  ‘You’re up to something,’ I accused.

  ‘You didn’t answer my question.’

  ‘I trust you, but—’

  He shook his head dismissively. ‘No buts. It’s a yes or no question, angel.’

  ‘Yes. I trust you.’

  ‘That’s my girl.’

  His amusement grew as the first beats of James Morris
on’s “Beautiful Life” played instead of Etta.

  ‘Do you remember my vows to you?’ I silently nodded. ‘Just put one foot in front of the other. I will take care of everything else.’

  I was swept away, first by the amazingly fitting lyrics of the song, and then by my husband who always knew how to counteract my low moods. Clearly, he knew what he was doing on the dance floor as well. I never knew that I had so much rhythm and that dancing like this, one on one, instead of in a mosh pit of sweaty drug addicts, could be so much fun — dare I say it? I was actually having fun on my marriage-of-convenience wedding day. His hips moved against mine and he held me close, taking care not to show expectation of anything else except to have this first dance, this first closeness as husband and wife. He moved close enough against me to display that he couldn’t be more than an inch away from me, but not close enough, sexually expectant enough, to place any pressure on me to conform to what a traditional wedding night should bring. I just felt cared for, respected and secure, as he took charge. There was another word that I felt, and as I looked up into his face and he planted a soft kiss on my mouth, I realised what it was. I felt cherished: as if I truly were his treasure and that he would hold me and protect me as if I were a rarity. His words were put into actions, and now I was beginning to believe that maybe I did deserve this; with every kiss he was showing me that I deserved what he had to give…but I wasn’t used to this, and the responsibility of being married to Nick still categorically overwhelmed me.

  ‘You’re my one and only, angel.’

  My heart thawed ever so slightly.

  ‘Have you been taking lessons?’ I asked as I became a little out of breath as he effortlessly swept around the dance floor.

  ‘Nope,’ he grinned widely, and then he buried his face in my neck so that he could breathe me in. His lips brushed against my bare shoulder and I turned pink as I became aware of the clucking crowd. ‘I’m a natural. You have a lot to look forward to, Mrs Mathieson.’