Reclaiming Ava

It was a Robin Hood sort of a wedding in a natural woodland setting. I wanted our love to honour what God has given rather than the world of money and bling. The room buzzed with excited chatter and children ran between the tables in a good natured game of tag. Then the groom and I entered, applause spread across the room. There was the scraping of chairs as folks got up for a standing ovation and the happy couple made their way to the head table, smiling and holding hands. They sat in front of a bouquet of baby pink roses and the groom leaned in for a kiss. There were cheers and someone whooped. After a few moments the toastmaster rose from his chair and everyone else sat down. The sound of his teaspoon rapping on the side of his glass signalled everyone to silence, except the children who were shushed by their parents.

The sun shone upon us like a filter on a dark and gloomy day. But who knew the filter was the only thing that saved them. I wanted everything to be perfect for my wedding day: the dress, the cake, even the in-laws. I spent my entire life dreaming of the moment I would get to say “I do.” So what could I do when my would-be spouse ends up saying “I don’t?”

Being left at the altar is like ordering a luscious ice cream cone, three scoops tall, only to drop it face-first on the sweltering sidewalk right before you take your first lick. But worse. The point is, there isn’t a word for this level of disappointment and heartbreak. 

I stood at the alter saying “I do.” I looked back at Liam, my groom, his face was a laminated pale paper and he walked off of the field and into his car. His driver and him drove off and left me standing with wild guests crowded around me. My parents didn’t comfort me, nobody did. I had to comfort myself. I vowed myself that day not to ever marry anyone, not even if Liam comes back. 

The night I was supposed to be in bed with my husband, I was not. That morning I was supposed to be having breakfast with my husband, I was not. The life I was supposed to have with my husband, I have not and will never have.

++++++++++++++++

“My sister always said that happiness is like a soda. It's sweet, fizzy, and doesn't last very long. You have to enjoy happiness before it goes flat. So I did the logical thing and drank soda every day so that I could be happy. Now I have cavities!” I say to the person opposite me. I love making people happy. 

The cluster of people queue up behind eachother, they wait for their turns patiently and obediently. I grab a book from the stack behind me, “Hello, what’s your name?” I say.

“Lucy. Can you sign my book please?” She replies.

“I would be happy to, thank you.” I smile back. “It was nice meeting you!” 

One by one, each person had left happily. I push back my chair and rummage through my bag for my water bottle. I pull it out and drink it’s contents. I look up and a man stands before me.

“Hello.” I say. “You missed the queue.”

“Can you still sign my book, please?” He asks.

“Sure, what’s your name?” I ask.

“Liam, yours is Ava.” He replies and I smile.

“Here you go.” I say and hand him the book.

He stands for a few seconds and stares at me while I sip my water. “Can I talk to you?” He says.

“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” I reply and offer him a chair next to me. 

“No, in private please.” He says as he looks at the people busying around.

I nod and turn to my manager. She nods in acknowledgment and I lead Liam to my temporary room. I seat myself on the sofa and pat on the empty space next to me. Instead he kneels in front of me and takes my hands. My heart jumps into my mouth, it strangles my throat as it tries to slide into place.

“I’m sorry… it’s going to be hard for you to hear but… I’m Liam Deeson.” He says as he stares at my expression. 

My vision goes dizzy and there is a tightness in my throat. My lungs feel as elastic as old underpants, just sagging instead of contracting for the next breath. He moves his hands to my arms but I flinch backwards. His hands float in the thick air. 

The tightening in my chest robs my voice. I stammer, “Wh-wha-what?” 

I cough and he grasps my hands.

“Is this a joke? What?” I whisper as the tears slip my eyes.

“I’m sorry..” He says as my hands tremble. I pull them back greedily.

“Sorry.” I whisper and dab my eyes with a tissue. “Look, I’m glad you’re fine. Is that all?”

“I just wanted to say… I left that day because I thought we were too young. I thought of the mistakes. I didn’t want to… I mean… I thought we were rushing it.” He stumbles across his words.

“You thought? Didn’t you think to tell me before you left?“ I ask.

“I was scared of marriage.” He says. 

“You could have told me before!” I shout.

“I know! I’m sorry.” He shouts. 

I sit back on the sofa and lift my head up to the ceiling. I felt ashamed to show him my tears. I feel movement in front of me and he tilts my head towards him. 

“Are you leaving?” He asks.

“Yeah, are you?” I reply.

“Yes, do you want me to drop you to your car?” He questions.

“I’m fine.” I reply.

“No, I insist.” He demands. I nod my head. 

He offers an arm and I slide my hand through it. Clutching onto his arm tightly, I ask him, “What do you do now?” 

“Oh, I have my own business now. You’re a chef and a writer, right?” He says.

“Yep.” I answer. 

“Again, I’m sorry.” Liam says and opens my car door for me. “Ava, I want to get to know you again.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because I want to regain a relationship.” He replies.

“I can’t. I don’t have the power.” I sigh.

“Just give me a chance.” He pleads as his eyebrows arch. “Just 6 meetings.”

“No, three meetings.” I reply.

“4 meetings.” He bids. 

“Fine.” I oblige and stick out a hand for him to shake.

He wraps his warm hand around mine, it’s soft, pearl texture soothes my overwhelming emotions. He slowly pulls it towards his mouth and lightly pecks it. 

+++++++++++++++++

“I look fine. I look good.” I talk to myself as I flaunt my looks in front of the mirror. 

My eyes were a deep pool of restless gold, my skin gleamed and flowed into my soft features. I was larger than a catwalk model, but proud of my beautiful nature hidden inside. 

I tugged on matchstick jeans and ballet flats. I wrapped a Hally-blue silk scarf around my waist, up over my torso, then tied the ends behind my neck to fashion a halter-style blouse.

Simple is better than complex. 

A giddy feeling bounces inside my stomach from to and fro; my right side says it’s a good decision, the left says the opposite. Nope, breathe Ava… you can do this. He won’t stand you up… will he?

“Well, I’ll just have to see.” I whisper under my breath and climb into my car.

Softly splashing water droplets hit the car windows as I drive onwards. The skies are overhung with a blanket of grey, so much so that I can barely tell the difference between the sky and clouds. Despite car rides feeling tedious, the rain commonly calms me - I watch raindrops race down to the windows. The occasional wave of a puddle can be exciting, but I'd rather be outside in those puddles than stuck in this car anxiously.

I pull up outside the house, the bricks look as if they were laid one at a time, perhaps on a fine spring day. I let my eyes wander the roughness and how each is so very straight. This house was made with love, that's for sure.

I snatch my phone from my pocket and peer at my looks; still the same. What would you expect Ava! You haven’t been in a car accident! Or walking in the rain! There is no car outside, I hope he’s home. I should just go home, it’s raining too much. No, run to the door Ava. RUN.

Okay, breathe, one… two… three. I run out of the car and on the doorstep. 

What do I do now? KNOCK: my brain tells me. So I knock on the door lightly… nothing. I look around at the driveway, no form of life. I pound on the door and all that is available to hear is the echo of my breath. Should I go or stay? Stay. Why? Because you want a relationship with him. No I don’t! Yes you do. Fine! 

I sit on the doorstep and balance my head on my hands to keep it in place. It's never a great sign when my conversation-to-be is sounding witty in my head. Where is he! I’m leaving. No you will not. Wait another five minutes, what are you gonna lose? Lose the will to live, 

Finally, I hear the gravel on the driveway crunch and a figure climbs out towards me. 

“What time do you call this?” I ask.

“Sorry, I ran overtime at work.” He says and another figure stands next to him. 

Liam leans forward and opens the door, he helps me up, “God, you’re really cold.” 

“I know!” I shout back.

We enter the house and he puts me down on the sofa. 

“What?” I ask as he chuckles.

“You’re cute when you get angry.” He laughs as I eventually smile.

Taking in the Mediterranean vibe he had conjured, enjoying the many pot plants that reached upward with broad and spreading leaves. Catching my smile he looked taken aback. 

“Your house is beautiful.” I compliment.

“Thanks.” He replies while his cheeks lit.

“Liam! I’ve never seen you blush before.” Laughed the man next to him. He turns his attention towards me. “I’m Edward, Liams best friend.”

He takes my hand and kisses it.

“Thank you.” I reply.

“He’s not my best friend. He’s one of my workers.” Liam says through gritted teeth. “Now leave me Ava and me alone.” 

“I am. I am. Chill!” He laughs and runs up the stairs. 

Liam takes a towel and wraps it around my shoulders. His fingers linger over my shoulders and graze the softest part of my skin.

“You look beautiful.” He says.

“Thanks.” I blush, he stands before me. “You look handsome.”

“Thank you.” He replies.

My eyes roam over his chiselled beard and his broad, clean figure. Great, unlike me. Him: a model. Me: ordinary round button. 

“What’s the matter?” He asks.

“Nothing.” I reply.

“Tell me.” He presses.

“Look at me, a round button and you look like a model. We’re no match. No wonder why you hightailed it out of our wedding.” I confess.

He rubs his beard and a concerned look masks his face. “You are beautiful. You’re my button, no one else’s. I’m not a model. I hightailed it out of the wedding because I was ashamed of how I looked.” He says.

“But you look like any girls dreams.” I reply.

“Yeah but you’re my dream, no one else’s.” He says and wraps his arms around my neck. “Kiss.”

“Cheek.” I reply as the look on his face surprisingly doesn’t deflate. 

He lightly pecks on my cheek and I do back. 

+++++++++++++++++

“So we’ll meet tomorrow at your work, yes.” I ask.

“Yes, can’t wait.” Liam says.

“Love you.” I whisper, accidentally rolling off of my tongue.

“Love you too.” He says.

“Bye.” I say.

“Bye.” He replies.

I put down the phone and the fluttering inside my stomach continues while I chop the tomatoes in front of me. I toss them carelessly into the salad; no more comfort food. I chomp away at the unappetising salad and rethink if I should just eat the popcorn in the cupboard. No you can do this! 

Rethinking, my eyes gaze over at the popcorn, just one tiny buttery bit. To hell with the salad, I’ll just have the popcorn. 

++++++++++++++++

The business suit was cold on waxy skin that craved the sun. When he froze in calculating thought he could have been one of those Madame Tussauds dummies, perfectly chiseled and cold. I peered once more at him and decided that I should go to him already. 

He shoots his gaze up at me and a smile plays at his face. 

“You look like a goddess.” He says as he studies my curves.

“Thank you.” I reply in gratitude.

The crowd of families and friends gather around us in awe as we embrace eachother in a kiss.

“We’ve got a cake to eat!” I cheer on.

“Do we have to? I mean, we could just go to our hotel room.” He says.

“Later baby, later.” I say and he wraps me up with a hug.

I may have to change my statement at the beginning about marriage!:)