That whole moment turned out totally different to what I thought would happen.
I was prepared to fight. Really nasty shit, with fists and teeth and everything. I was willing to fight to the death for the man that I want to love me again. But what actually happened was that I came away knowing something about Mark that not even he knows.
She wasn't his first. He never had sex with her. It was all a lie. And as horrible is that is for him, it's fantastic news for me. Because now we can go back to the way that we were. Everything will go back to normal. And he'll tell me he loves me again. And life will be happy again.
I can't stop my feet from bouncing as I bound back into the large dining room. Scanning the room for the one that I need to talk to. The quicker I find him, the quicker he'll hold me again. I see Glen and Danny, sitting at the table that I'm supposed to be. The seat next to Danny is still empty, and there's one next to Glen too. For Mark, maybe? My eyes flick further along, and I see Sam and Lee at the end of the room. All loved up and stuff, preparing themselves for the start of the rehearsal thing. But still, no Mark. How can I have lost him? He's not that hard to miss...
And that's when I see him. Stood at the bar, back to me. The smile on my face actually hurts me. This is it. This is where I fix it all. I squeak happily, bouncing over to him. I can't wait to see his face when I tell him...
“Mark!”
Nothing. Oh yeah. He's mad at me. I forgot. Well, that's okay. He won't be for long. Once he hears what I have to say, we'll be Mark and Alex again. I can already feel the butterflies.
“Mark, I have amazing news,” I chirp at him, resting my hand on his arm. Those arms. Damn, I forgot just how amazing they are...
“Get the fuck off me.”
The coldness in his voice makes me recoil back. That was totally uncalled for. I get that he's angry, but there's no need to talk to me like that.
“Mark...”
“Why are you still here?” he snarls, glaring at me. “I told you to get off. Why don't you just get the hint and fuck off?”
“You don't mean that...”
“Oh, I more than mean it, little girl.”
Little girl. Those two words...I've heard him say them before. He only says them when...Oh God, no. I drop my eyes to the bar in front of him and see the empty glasses. Eight of them. What has he done...
“You're drunk...” I whisper in disbelief.
“So what? What does it matter to you what I do?”
“Tell me you didn't drink...”
“Didn't drink what? Sambucca? Is that what you're going to say?”
He knows he shouldn't drink that. He knows it. But I can smell it on his breath. The same foul smell that washed over me as he held up against the wall that night. I'll never forget it. And he promised he would never drink it again. This isn't good. This isn't good at all. But I need to tell him. Maybe then...
“I need to tell you something,” I force out, trying to ignore the way he's swaying as he glares at me.
“What the fuck have you got to say to me that you think I'd be interested in?” he says, voice raising slightly. “Why the fuck do you think I'm going to listen to anything you have to say?”
Shit. He's getting angrier. I can't ruin Sam's night. I'll get in trouble. He'll get in trouble. I need to calm him down.
“Mark, baby, calm down,” I whisper to him. “You need to...”
