Always and Only You

Chapter Seventy-Six

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX

Present Day

Simon and I stand at opposite sides of the room, staring at each other.

‘You’re supposed to be in Amsterdam,’ I say.

‘You’re supposed to be in Devon,’ Simon says at the same time.

He has that same look on his face he gets when his mum scolds him for something. Keeping a careful eye on his reaction, I add, ‘I decided to come home early.’

Simon puts down his can of beer. For a moment he seems unsure of what to do, but then he gathers himself. ‘This is such a wonderful surprise!’

When he tries to hug me, I fold my arms and duck out of his way. He starts to gabble on about flights and timetables, that he thought he had a stomach bug yesterday but it just turned out to be gas. In the end I hold up a hand, palm facing him, and stare him down until the stream of bullshit dies away. ‘Enough!’ I sound stronger than I feel.

As I look at my fiancé, I can’t help despising him a little. ‘Just tell me the truth, Simon. Why aren’t you on Felipe’s stag weekend?’

Simon looks at the carpet. ‘I … um … wasn’t invited.’

‘You weren’t … Why lie? Why tell me you were?’

He says nothing, just shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

‘It’s because you were supposed to be coming down for the weekend, isn’t it?’

He keeps his head bowed but looks up at me. ‘Sort of … but, you know, it’s got nothing to do with you, Erin. I just needed my space.’

‘Space?’ I step forward and plonk myself down on the edge of the smaller of the two sofas. ‘From what? From me …?’

Simon retreats to the safety of the larger sofa. He picks up his can of beer, holding it to his chest but not drinking. ‘I know you’ve had a horrendous time this year, that it’s been really difficult for you, but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t been difficult for me too.’

I rub my forehead with my hand. The adrenaline is draining away, leaving me even more exhausted than when I first walked through the door. ‘I do understand that. Or at least, I’m trying to.’

I’m so confused. I don’t know what to do. I’m aware I’ve been horrendously focused on myself – I had to be – but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have compassion for Simon for all he’s been through because of my accident. His wedding was cancelled. He had to look after me, worry about me … Is it really so horrible if he just wanted a bit of time and space for himself, too? That’s the very reason I was at Heron’s Quay. Am I overreacting?

Maybe I am, but something still niggles at me. I thought we had finally worked out how to emerge from our own bubbles and be a good team together, but it feels as if we are slipping back into old patterns, him behind his glass wall and me behind mine. Or maybe I’m not behind mine. I think my bump on the head smashed it to smithereens. It feels as if Simon has retreated from me and I’m out on my own, stranded.

‘You could have talked to me about it instead of lying,’ I say quietly.

Simon nods. ‘Maybe I should have. I’m sorry.’

‘So that’s all this is … You just needed some ‘me’ time?’

Simon nods.

‘And there’s nothing else?’

‘No.’

He takes a sip of his beer and his gaze wanders to the flatscreen TV where a team he doesn’t particularly support is playing against one he hates.

This is usually the moment in our discussions when I let him off the hook, where I quietly tuck my misgivings and questions away and go back to being good old dependable Erin. Sensible. Measured. But I don’t feel I’m any of those things today.

‘So, this time you need …? You think you’ll have had enough of it by November?’

Simon turns to me, his eyebrows raised. ‘November?’

It’s not even on his radar, is it? That says something. Something big. I stare steadily at him. ‘When we’re supposed to be getting married? The hotel gave us the cancellation date, remember? You said to go ahead and book.’

If I hadn’t been studying him so carefully, I might’ve missed it, but I see a flash of panic in his eyes. It feels as if a trapdoor opens underneath me and I fall through it. ‘You’re not ready, are you? You’re not ready to get married to me?’

Simon opens his mouth. He looks as if he’s trying to work out what to say, which answer will put this awkward discussion to bed the fastest.

‘I want the truth, Simon. You owe me that.’

Simon stands up. ‘Before we do that, I just need to …’ He hurries from the room and comes back a minute later, wearing trousers. I slump further into my sofa. Oh God. If he has to get fully dressed for what he’s about to say, this does not bode well. He sits back down, resting his elbows on his knees, and looks at me seriously.

My stomach wobbles. ‘Is there someone else?’ I blurt out before he can say anything.

‘No! Of course not! Why would you think that?’

Tension has been gathering around my temples all day and now it starts to squeeze hard. ‘Then what is it? Simon … just spit it out, will you?’ In half an hour’s time, my brain will turn to rubber and everything he tells me will bounce off of it. If he’s going to get it off his chest, he’s got to do it now.

Simon swallows. ‘There’s something I need to tell you … About the night of your accident.’

My fingers fly to my skull, feeling the area that was bumped and bruised the most. ‘My accident?’ Suddenly, I’m scared. In my worst predictions of this scenario, Simon had got cold feet, maybe wanted to postpone the wedding, but now I wonder if he had something to do with what happened to me.

He nods. ‘We had a fight … That’s why you ran outside. That’s why you were in the garden.’

‘We … We …’ I can’t seem to process the information. ‘We had a fight? About what?’

Simon stands up and starts pacing. ‘I told you something I should have brought up a long time before. But I could never find a way to introduce it into the conversation and so I just kept putting it off and putting it off until …’ He shakes his head. ‘I don’t know, it just felt like the right thing to do to tell you before we got married. It wouldn’t be right to keep a secret that big. It would have eaten away at our relationship.’

Deep inside, I start to shake. ‘Simon, you’re scaring me. Please tell me what it is!’

He exhales heavily and looks down at his feet. ‘It’s about Megan …’

‘Megan?’

‘About that night …’

I cross my arms over my stomach, hugging myself tight. All my instincts are telling me to get up, to run.

‘I was with her … when she took the ket.’ He swallows uncomfortably. ‘I gave it to her.’

‘You …’ And now I’m the one who’s pacing around the living room, hardly knowing what to do with myself.

Now Simon has opened the floodgates, it seems he can’t stop. ‘I lied to the police. I told them I didn’t know who had given it to her or who was with her. I was scared. You have to understand that, Erin. Yes, I gave it to her. But I took the same amount, and I was fine. How was I to know she’d been drinking with you before she even got to the party, or how much she’d have once we got there? It wasn’t my fault! I shouldn’t have to pay with my future because she made a mistake.’

I walk right up to Simon, wait until he looks me in the eye. ‘Yes, you’re right – there were a lot of things that you weren’t responsible for that night, but there are things you could have done …’ I have to pause for a moment to hold myself together, to prevent myself from lashing out at him physically. A ball of rage is burning inside my chest and I’m barely keeping control of it. ‘You knew she’d taken it when we played King Cup! You could have stopped her having that drink. At the very least, you could have told someone. We might have been able to get her help, you know, medical help!’

Simon runs his hand through his hair, looking distraught. ‘Don’t you think I know that? But I was drunk – we all were. You too! You’ve always said you wished you’d done things differently that night. And I’ll always regret that I didn’t say I’d seen her leave the house and go in the direction of the park!’

‘You … you saw her leave, and you didn’t tell anyone?’ I scream at him.

‘See!’ He throws his hands in the air, walks away from me. ‘This is why I didn’t want to tell you any of this, because I knew you’d get upset. I knew you’d be angry with me! And you got angry that night too … the night before our wedding. You wouldn’t listen! You said you didn’t even know who I was any more, that there was no way you were marrying me the following morning, and then you ran off and I didn’t see you again until …’

I think about what he’s said. ‘Until someone else found me.’ I meet his gaze. ‘Why is that, Simon? Why did someone else … Gil … find me in the garden and not you? Did you even come and look for me?’

Guilt washes over his face and I know I’ve hit the nail on the head.

‘If he hadn’t stumbled upon me, I could have died out there in that garden! So why didn’t you come after me? You know I don’t do that sort of thing for attention. You know if I run off like that, something has to be seriously wrong.’

Simon just stares at me, saying nothing.

And then the penny drops. ‘You wanted me to be all upset.’ My brain races through a series of memories, like cards being shuffled before a game of poker. Image after image comes at me. How Simon ghosted me for weeks after I left for the Bahamas. How he’s been withdrawing a bit more from me every day since I’ve been staying at Heron’s Quay. How we were feeling disconnected before the wedding, yet I couldn’t put my finger on why …

‘You were relieved ,’ I finally say, eyes wide, and I see the confirmation in Simon’s expression. ‘You were glad I said I didn’t want to marry you. Because you wanted to call the whole thing off, but you didn’t have the guts. Telling me about Megan had nothing to do with coming clean and everything to do with dropping a grenade in my lap and hoping I’d pull the pin for you!’

‘No, that’s not true. I really wanted to tell you about Meg.’

His blue eyes stare into mine and my gut tells me he’s being truthful, but that doesn’t mean I’m not right about the rest of it. I drop back down onto the sofa. ‘Why didn’t you want to marry me any more? What did I do?’

‘Nothing …’ Simon comes to sit at the other end of the sofa, just out of touching – or hitting – distance. Coward. ‘You’re amazing … perfect. I told myself that a thousand times over. And when we’d been together a few years, it seemed as if everyone expected it of us. It seemed that you expected it.’

I shake my head. ‘Only because you led me to believe you were on the same page! Why didn’t you say anything? Even after you proposed?’ But as the words leave my mouth, I realize I already know the answer. Simon would beat Usain Bolt at the hundred metres if it meant he could avoid an ugly confrontation.

‘If it helps, I don’t think I’m ready to marry anyone. But it wasn’t until the big day was almost on top of us I knew that for sure. And if I did ever want to tie the knot, it would probably be with you … You’re the only one who’s ever come close.’

‘What? To winning such a prize as you?’ I get up and walk towards the door. I can’t stand to be in the same room as him any more. ‘And you probably think it’d be me? Geez, don’t do me any favours, Simon!’

He blinks, shocked. ‘It’s not like you to be sarcastic. You’re starting to sound like Gil.’

I want to open my mouth and scream, scream until there is no breath left in my lungs. ‘And I didn’t think it was like you to lie to me through the whole five years of our relationship ! And what was the deal at the hospital, anyway? The whole devoted groom-to-be, the I-can’t-bear-to-live-life-without-you act?’

‘It wasn’t an act!’ Simon says, jumping up and looking offended. ‘Just because I got a case of cold feet, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Erin.’

‘Just not enough to marry me. Or tell me the truth.’

‘I felt terrible about what happened to you that night. It was a wake-up call, I thought. My chance to be the person you deserved me to be. I really wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to go through with the wedding a second time. At least, not then …’

I hang my head wearily for a second. ‘So you were basically going through with the wedding after that point out of guilt?’

He looks away. Oh God. I’m right. He was marrying me out of pity, not because I was the love of his life.

Something snaps inside me then. ‘Well, no need to worry, Simon. That date in November that the hotel gave us? Some other couple is going to start their happy-ever-after that day. I let the deadline pass. Because, as it turns out, I’m not sure I want to marry you either.’