Love at the Little Wedding Shop by the Sea - Jane Linfoot Page 0,86
started, it’s hard to stop. ‘Unlike you, I had no interest in being single; I absolutely adored the idea of having a home and a partner, and dogs by the fire. I loved everything being engaged stood for, the promise of a wonderful future, our whole lives ahead to look forward to.’
He wrinkles his nose. ‘I’m not sure that’s always true, I wouldn’t buy into all of it.’
‘The point is however much I wanted all that, now I’ll never be able to trust anyone enough again, so I won’t get to have any of it.’
‘Poor Mills.’ He’s stretching out his hand towards mine.
I pull mine away just in time and snap, ‘Banter is questionable, touching is definitely off limits.’
He closes his eyes briefly. ‘Sorry, it was only because of all the shit you’ve been through.’
I’m almost done here, so I press on. ‘And I was only wearing the ring at the wedding fair to show the engaged couples I knew what they were going through – and for that one day it was fab to remember how it felt to have everything to look forward to.’
‘Oh crap. And sorry all over again for that. And for doubting you. You’re sure I can’t give you a hug?’ He tilts his head and looks at me. ‘It might make you feel better?’
‘No, absolutely not! It totally wouldn’t. Thanks all the same.’
His voice is low. ‘I’m sorry I asked. What must you think of me, sticking my nose in?’ He rubs his jaw. ‘But it’s really good to get this straight so I don’t put my foot in it in future.’
And for me, even if I’m not saying it, it’s lovely to feel that Nic truly cares. That he wants to take the time to understand. That he came in so gently and said all the right things to make me feel better. How achingly comforting it would be to rest my head on his chest. To feel his arms close around me. To let him gently rock me until all the hurt has gone away. Even if there isn’t any future in it, just the warmth would be lovely.
‘Sooooo …’ It’s down to me to fill the gap here, but it’s fine because I’ve been meaning to ask this for ages. ‘This might be a good time for me to see a picture of Pixie?’ Staring around for photo frames and not finding any, I can’t believe I still don’t know what she looks like.
‘Yes, great idea.’ He really doesn’t sound like he thinks it is.
I’m backing this up to make it sound less like stalking. ‘Now we’re moving onto the styling, seeing her will give me a better sense of what she’d like.’
He pulls out his phone from his pocket and flicks through, then hands me the screen. ‘There you go. This is her with her basketball team.’
Oh my. After two months of near obsession, I’m actually about to see her. The Elfie in my head at first was super-toned, tall, and slim with beachy blonde hair. Once I knew Nic was her brother, her hair went darker and I let myself add in an Insta-pretty face. So I was possibly expecting an engagement shot of Pixie and Ewan, probably on a beach with some wind and perhaps a sunset. Or maybe just a close-up of their faces and the ring. If it’s athletic bodies in shorts draped around a ball, I can still work with that.
Talk about being wrongfooted. When I finally focus on the screen I’m staring at women in sports kit sitting in wheelchairs and two coaches with whistles around their necks standing at the back. It’s just so unexpected I’m stuttering.
‘W—w—wheelchair sport? Somehow when you said basketball I assumed she’d be playing not coaching.’ I’m staring from one blonde coach to the other, trying to find a resemblance. ‘So which one is she?’
He gives a sniff as he leans over and points. ‘There, front row, third from the left.’
As his finger stops at the girl in the chair with long dark hair who looks just like him my stomach’s shrinking because I’ve got this so wrong. And then my shock twists – it’s not something I can be annoyed about, but at the same time there’s a voice in my head screaming, what the eff? Pixie’s in a wheelchair and for two whole months you didn’t think to mention it!
I blow out a breath, make my voice low and measured. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’