The Wedding Issue

Chapter Twenty Six - Sweet Dreams are Made of This

The phone finally stopped vibrating and the screen dimmed out. I stared at the dark screen for a minute, wondering if I should call back. A part of me wanted to answer the phone when it was ringing and tell her that I was sorry and that I would be there in an hour tops. The other part of me, the part awakened by Claire, was telling me to switch off the phone, go make the final touches for tomorrow's show, have an early dinner with my fiancée and call it a day.

I hated those two parts of me, and they hated each other too. They could never get along.

I wondered what she must be feeling right now. Did her heart ache as much as mine? Was she ever going to want to talk to me again? Will she ever find it in her heart to forgive me? Did I blow a perfectly good chance with an amazing woman just because I was a class-A coward? Not only was I a coward, but I could win the award of "Jerk of the Year."

I buried my face into my hands. This was ridiculous and frustrating. Which of the two should I completely cut-off from my life – the one who has been nothing but loving and caring and would be the most amazing wife and mother, or the one who has made me believe that love happens for no other reason other than to revive your soul and make you feel alive again and the rest just happens by time. Claire was the safe choice. Right now, I wasn't sure if I needed to take any more risks than I already had.

Claire was cooking something mouthwatering in the kitchen as a pre-celebration for my ultra-big gig tomorrow. I was finding it very hard to focus on that right now. Somehow the exhibition didn't seem as important as it did not longer than a month ago. I didn't even have a speech ready. I figured I'll just wing it. Clearly, I don't work well under pressure.

I looked at the phone again – the screen was still dark. I instinctively got off the bed and grabbed it. It read that I had four missed calls. That can't be good.

I should call her back and apologize; it was the decent thing to do.

No, I shouldn't. It would just be too weird.

But what if she shows up tomorrow? I did, after all, invite her.

But after what I did today, I doubt she'll ever want to see me again.

'Honey, dinner's ready', Claire called out from the kitchen as a rescue call.

I placed the phone gently on the dressing table like it was some precious gem and walked slowly into the kitchen with my shoulders slouched and my heart heavy. I ate half-heartedly. I more of played with my food than ate. The wine, however, I swallowed like I was a sink. Poor, innocent Claire regarded my blue mood as nothing more than nerves and anxiety, and she refilled my glass with no questions.

'Honey, you have to eat. You're going to need your energy for tomorrow. It's a big day', she said excitedly.

She has been uncharacteristically quiet about the whole Genevieve drama. I mean, I know she was supportive and all back when Genevieve was in the hospital, but after that she didn't address the matter at all. I didn't get any backlash for being such a jerk to her the whole time I was away. It was like the past few weeks never happened. It was completely unlike her to let things slip by so easily – especially when it was something that questioned our relationship. No woman would act as carefree and confident as Claire was acting now.

I wonder what she has been up to the few weeks I was away. I lacked the will to ask her today.

She got fed up with me so she literally spoon-fed me until I wiped my plate clean. I managed to wiggle my way out of dessert – avocado chocolate ice-cream didn't do much for my appetite – and I ended up taking a long, hot shower and tucked myself to bed.