17th August 2017
"I am so fucking excited right now." Elenore exclaimed, shuffling and re-shuffling the stack of envelopes on the coffee table. Freshly bronzed and hair as light as cream from her recent time in the sun; she'd never looked better. Happier. Healthier.
"They're just RSVPs, Ele." I sighed; wiping the back of my left hand across my forehead. Clammy. Warm. "And can you take it down a notch? I don't think I have the energy to deal with this level of enthusiasm today."
I'd woken up feeling as though I was at death's door, being greeted by the Grim Reaper himself. Harry and I had polished off a bottle of wine between us last nightâfor no reason whatsoeverâand I'd woken up realising that maybe I wasn't cut out for booze anymore. When did I get old?
"Christ, you look like shit." My best friend grimaced; eyelash extensions fluttering in disgust. "I hope that's not catching. I'm supposed to be attending a golf tournament with Niall this weekend."
I dismissed her with a wave. "Don't fret, my light weighted-ness won't interfere with your social calendar."
I slumped down on the sofa beside her. There really were a lot of envelopes; all wedding RSVPs that Ele had agreed to help me go through this morning while Harry was in an important call. We'd start work on the seating arrangements for the reception later, once Nola was back from nursery and in bed. Our child was loud and loved to be centre of attentionâwe had no hope of getting anything done with her awake.
"This was one of my favourite parts of wedding planning." Elenore sighed dreamily; staring at the rock on her left hand and the recently acquired band of diamonds now sat with it. "Finding out who was going to be there, sharing our big day."
"Ele," I snorted; although regretted it immediately when my stomach churned in protest. "You spent the whole of that process making a tally of how many famous people were going to be there. Do you need reminding of the Ed Sheeran and Guest saga?"
Elenore scowled and allowed her hand to drop back into her lap; jostling the envelopes. "Whatever, Marn. Let's just get on with this before I catch your plague."
At the mention of plague, my stomach gurgled. "I'm not ill." I grumbled; taking an envelope from the pile. "Just embarrassingly inept at consuming more than one glass of alcohol." I was prepared to elaborate on my explanation, ready to jump to my own defence once Elenore had undoubtedly attempted to ridicule me, but the handwriting on the envelope I'd selected brought me to an abrupt stop.
Oh no.
I ripped it open, heart pounding, and dumped the contents in my lap. The last letters I'd received from this handwriting had been in reference to the death of my mother. Cold and impersonal. I'd been in pieces and Harry had been furious. We'd hardly mentioned the sender since.
"Marnie, what's wrong?" Elenore exclaimed; shoving her own envelopes aside and helping me gather the crumpled bits of my own. We'd sent out a RSVP cards with our invitations; chosen beautiful swirling calligraphy on floral printed card. But with this person's handwriting, it looked all wrong. My stomach lurched when I reached the name printed on the line at the bottom.
Preston Owens
"What the fuck?" Elenore voiced the words echoing on repeat in my head. "Did you seriously invite him to your wedding?"
I shook my head immediately, imitating a dashboard nodding dog. "Absolutely not. Not after what happened! Not after the last letter."
Ele snatched the card from my hands as if double and triple checking it. As if hoping the name might change to someone we'd prefer. "Then how the hell did he get an invite in the first place?"
"Iâ"
"Everything ok?" Harry interrupted, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants as he walked into the room. His eyes jumped between my best friend and I; the two of us suddenly putting the jigsaw together.
"Did youâ" Elenore snapped, before reeling it in and turning to me instead.
"Harry," I all but whispered; pure disbelief tainting my tone. "Did you invite my Dad to our wedding?"
Harry paled; his eyes widening and his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. My stomach rolled again. "Yes." He sighed, and then immediately raised both his hands in front of him. "I did invite him, but just hear me out on this, ok?"
"Oh boy." Ele muttered from beside me, and placed her head in her hands as if bracing herself for the undoing of mine and Harry's relationship. I staggered to my feet; one hand wrapped around my stomach and the other pressed against my forehead. Still clammy. Still warm.
"Why the bloody hell would you even consider inviting him? You hate him as much as I do!" I cried, exasperated. I couldn't think of anything worse than my father tainting one of the most special days of my life. Since we'd started planning our wedding, not once had I pictured him there. I hadn't even cared that he wouldn't walk me down the aisle. Harry stepped further into the lounge.
"I know you hate him, Marnie, and I still hate him too. Everything your parents have ever done has been no less than unforgivable, but at the end of the day, he's your dad. I didn't want you to look back on our wedding and regret not having him there."
"That wasn't your decision to make!" I snapped. "You should have told me first. You should haveâ"
I bolted from the room; the hand that was on my forehead now clamped over my mouth in desperate bid to contain the cheese omelette I'd consumed only hours ago. Both Ele and Harry sprinted after me in hot pursuit but I was only vaguely aware of their cries of concern.
"How much did you two drink last night?" My best friend's voice faded as I all but fell into the downstairs bathroom. I'd barely got my head over the toilet when I suddenly emptied the consents of my stomach into it.
"Ugh." I slumped down the side of the porcelain; not wanting to stray too far away in case it was required for another round. Bile burned the back of my throat; the smell of it just as putrid as the taste.
"Jesus, Marn." The bathroom doorâthat I'd failed to close in my hasteâopened wider to reveal Elenore with Harry hovering awkwardly behind her. "What the fuck was that about?"
I pressed my cheek against the tiled wall; inviting its coolness against my feverish skin. "I told you," I sighed, groggily. "It's the wine."
Evil, unforgiving, demonic wine.
"Are you sure it's just the wine?" Harry stepped out from behind her; his face a picture of concern. "I've never seen you with a hangover."
I looked up at the pair of them; Harry tugging the ends of his cropped curls, and Elenore with her hands on her hips as if about to prove a point. "Yes, Marnie," she smirked; eyes twinkling. "Are you sure it's just the wine?"
My eyebrows pushed together in frustration. "What else is it going to be?" I looked between them; Elenore's lips now stretching out into a full-on Cheshire cat grin. "For God's sake, Ele, stop staring at me like that!"
"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" She squealed, and darted out the room, almost knocking Harry into the sink in her haste. With Elenore gone, and some peace restored, he knelt down and pressed a hand against my forehead.
"Want me to carry you up to bed?"
My heart swelled. Despite having the ability to be a complete and utter knob, Harry was also an total sweetheart. His hand made its way down the side of my face, until he was cradling it. I leaned into him and closed my eyes...
Only to be interrupted by Elenore, still squealing and now jumping up and down with her handbag dangling off her arm.
"Bloody hell, Ele, tone it down or I'll vomit on your shoes." I groaned; gripping my stomach again.
"You will not." She sniffed. "Niall bought me these in Italy." She squatted down in front of me and started digging through the leather bucket. "Marn, when was your last period?"
I squinted at her question. "My last period?"
She rolled her eyes as Harry's own widened with recognition. "Yes, that thing you have every month. Every month apart from when you're pregnant."
Reaching between us with his other hand, my left knee cap is encased by Harry's ring-adorned fingers. The look shared is questioning. Curious. Could I be? We'd decided some months ago to stop using contraception. We'd just decided to go with the flow; see what happened. As Harry's grip tightened, I realised I actually couldn't remember when my last period was.
A white stick is thrust under my nose; fresh out of the box. The instructions lay discarded at our feet. I've used one of these before, I know what I'm doing, but my friend on the other handâ
"What the hell have you got one of those for?" I asked incredulously; reaching across and snatching it from her grasp.
"So we can find out if you're pregnant, of course!" She groaned; evidently bored of the delay. "C'mon, get peeing!"
I narrowed my eyes at her; aware of Harry's complete silence. "I meant what have you got one for. Something you want to tell me?"
Her resounding squeal of despair bounced off the tiles; ricocheting through my ears. "Oh my God, Marnie, just piss on that thing already. I always keep one in my bagâNiall and I are trying, ok? But right now it looks like you need it more than I do. Now, piss!"
I looked to Harry for support, but he merely raised his hands in surrender; smiling like someone who knew they'd struck gold. "Don't look at me! Do what she says. Funnily enough, I want to know too."
He shuffled backwards out of the room; Elenore skipping behind him while I sat gobsmacked on the bathroom floor. Five minutes ago I'd been ready to tear Harry a new one; mortified by the realisation that he'd gone behind my back. Now I was about to find out if I was pregnant again with his child. Despite the nausea, I hauled myself up and onto the toilet seat and did what I'd been instructed.
Piss.