L. Miller - Gilded Wings

“Hi”, I stuttered.

Lucy’s eyes were glaring at me, her bright white smile urging me to talk to him. To be happy at his presence.

“Been a while,” He smouldered.

Anger crashed through my core. How dare he be so callous. “Yeah, you could say that”, I sneered.

I dropped my gaze and strode past him, making a clear conscious decision not to make eye contact. He would not hurt me.

I walked through to the living room. Travie was sprawled across the large tan leather sofa.

“Alright Evie, you okay?”

“Good thanks Trav, how have you been”. I smiled softly.

“Not bad, not bad, you wanna drink?”

I heard muttering from the hall. “That’s okay Trav Ill grab myself one,” I didn’t need the inquisition of why I was not drinking alcohol.

Lucy’s kitchen was small and compact but overtly modern. White gloss units contrasted with granite work surfaces. I reached into the retro Smeg fridge and poured myself a glass of lemonade.

“Hey”, his voice startled me.

“Hey” I answered softly. It took far too much energy trying to stay angry at Connor. He made my body feel things that I had never felt before, safe, calm.

“Can we talk?” I heard the slight hesitation in his voice.

“Yeah I suppose.”

He pulled the kitchen door closed. The moments of silence were intense. So many unanswered questions and so many lies about to be shared.

He turned to face me, stepping towards me. Bringing both our bodies into a closer proximity. The scent of him was mouth watering. He managed to turn me into a quivering mass of hormones in a matter of minutes. His hand reached up to stroke my face. I pulled away, bringing my back to the edge of the work counter. “Don’t, just don’t.”

“I don’t get it Evie, what’s changed?” he sighed. “You said you wanted to be with me?”

“Connor, you walked away, I heard nothing from you, not a thing and you expect me to wait for you patiently, hoping you may want me?”

“Is that what you think? Evie, you said you needed time. I gave you time. To figure out what you wanted, to talk to Henry.”

I choked down the lump dwelling in my throat, praying for this to stop hurting. To rather not hear the words he was saying. It was easier to believe he didn’t want me, than to know that I have to walk away.

“It’s too late Connor, too late.” Tears pricked.

“Evie, please don’t think I don’t want you, I came, I came to see you, but he was there, what was I meant to do? I didn’t have your number. Evie, please, just give us a chance.” His voice was eager, pained. The strength of his arms slipped around me, cradling me within his chest.

“It’s too late, I’m sorry I can’t”. It took all of the strength I had to pull away from his embrace. To break away from him. To lose him completely and utterly.

“You don’t mean it, it’s the wedding, you’re scared.”

He was right, I was scared, but baby bean was not something I was willing to compromise. With all of the unintended spite I could gather I prepared myself for the next few words, knowing I would push him away for good.

“I felt nothing Connor. I love Henry. I don’t love you, I don’t want you. Now will you believe me? I have considered you but I feel nothing for you”.

His eyes looking over me trying to scrutinize my response.

“I am sorry. I just don’t feel it”. I said softly, biting back the tears ready to escape.

“Okay Evie. I am sorry. If that’s what you want, if that’s how you feel, then I will leave you alone”. He sighed.

I placed my hand on the handle of the door ready to walk way for good.

“Good luck with your wedding Evie”.

I turned to look at him one last time.

“You will make a beautiful bride.”

Why did this moment break my heart more than Henry’s unfaithfulness?

An entire day had passed since I had to walk away from the one man who made me feel alive. I had tried to conjure any emotions to help expel the feeling of internal hate that had swarmed within. Nothing worked. I was numb. Broken.

Today was my hen night. A day of celebratory fun with the two women in my life that I loved to death. A celebration of my impending marriage to the man I was to spend the rest of my years with. The man I was meant to love and cherish, until death do us part. I did not want to celebrate. I stared out of our bedroom window into the bleak daylight. Rain drops spilling uncontrollably onto the passing streets. I wanted to mourn.

“You okay darling?” Henry asked as his hands slipped around my waist.

My body instantly tensed, his touch was awkward, uncomfortable.

“I am fine darling, things are just so surreal, the wedding is just a week away.” I sighed automatically. “I am just tired, the baby I assume.”

Henry snorted, “Well this is just the beginning Everline, you are going to become far more drained, no doubt our nonexistent sex life if going to suffer further more” His tone snide and repulsed, “should have just waited Everline, but you wanted it, so you are going to have to deal with the consequences.

His arms abruptly pulled away from my body. I turned to face him, “Henry darling, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to distance myself. I am sure I will be fine once I progress into it.”

“Until of course you are too fat and uncomfortable to let me near you.” His eyes bitter, full of hate for my choice.

“Henry I am so sorry, I promise we will be fine, I will try harder, for us. For you.” I raised my hand to touch the side of his face. Dashed with raw stubble he pulled away at my movement.

“You better get finished, Lucy will be here soon.” Henry turned his back to me and stalked out of the room. My body filtered in the much needed oxygen it required to function.

I continued to pack the large Louis Vuitton weekend bag. Filled with essentials, make-up, lingerie, clothes. Pulling the zip I carried the bag across the landing and down the flight of stairs. As is by some miracle Lucy was standing in the hall. Waiting to be my saviour.

“All set honey bun? Let’s go get our fix of men and alcohol.”

I hesitantly looked over to catch Henry’s reaction at Lucy’s lewd declaration. Lucy must have caught my awkwardness.

“Take a chill pill Henry, getting far to miserable in your old age.”

“Lucy” I snapped.

“Bye,” Henry barked, “I will see you tomorrow, coherent I hope”. He walked away into the kitchen, not looking back.

“Someone’s pissed” Lucy sniggered.

“Just leave it Luce, I am really not in the mood for your analytical breakdown of Henry and his moods.”

We loaded Lucy’s sleek black Mercedes coupe with my bag, her boot barely able to contain any more baggage yet we still had Lex to fit in. As I sunk into the deep bucket seats felt exceptionally happier, like a burden of doubt had been lifted and for the next twenty four hours we were going to tear up Brighton, miles away from reality.

We pulled up outside Alexis’ apartment. The sound of the horn blaring pulled Lex from the inside of her home. We had declared our arrival. Callum carried Lex’s bags to the car, bags, plural. For one night she had two weekend bags. Never one to travel light.

“Staying somewhere nice Lex?” I mocked.

“No, I just know how drab your Henry authorised wardrobe is, so I snuck ya some sexy numbers in.” Her flashing wink and grinning smile tickled me within.

“Climb in Lex, let’s get going, we have a chocolate shop to pig out in, slutty clothes to dress up in and male strippers awaiting our presence.” Lucy was beyond excited about our impending night. “I… um, see you tomorrow… um then”, Callum stuttered, sounding very nervous at the line up of events we had planned.

“It’s okay babe, you know it’s only fair, you have your half naked stripper groupies and I have my fully naked gyrating men to dance for me”. Callum’s face turned a deeper shade of crimson.

“Bye, baby, see you tomorrow.”

Lex jumped in the back.

“Ah, how positively repulsive,”

“Leave her alone Lucy, you know he is whipped.”

“Both of you, seriously!” Lex exclaimed.

“Hell yeah, pussy whipped.” Lucy giggled.

For once I was loving the attention focusing on someone else’s relationship other than mine.

We arrived in Brighton a little after one. The costal waves were choppy but the atmosphere was electric. Brighton was full of eclectic mixes, the pier full of novelty games and roller coasters that would warrant shutting down if they were on normal ground.

We walked into The Grand, a huge off white institution perched contentedly at the centre of one of the most iconic British seafronts. The Grand was beautiful, inside and out. The Victorian architecture was extravagantly beautiful. The lobby consisted of a dramatic spiralling staircase which leads us to our sea front view room. We unloaded our bags swiftly, determined to head down to the Lanes before closing.

We wandered along the cobbled path ways, in awe of all of the beautifully unique trinkets that filled the glass fronted boutiques. Each store completely distinct; yet all complimentary to one another. We shopped for a few hours before coming to a complete standstill.

“Oh my bloody God, we have got to go in here!” Lucy squealed.

Alexis pushed through us both, mouth salivating at the mass of chocolate which framed the window in front of us.

“I’m going in”, Alexis called back. Lucy and I giggled in unison.

As I walked through the doorway into the dark and dramatic chocolatier, I couldn’t help but be completely in awe by the abundance of chocolate before us. 19.50’s sailor girls sculpted from chocolate, hearts, solid plaques, mmmm and my ultimate favourite, chocolate covered marshmallows. Baby bean must have mummy’s lack of resistance to chocolate in any form too.