Will We Talk? ~ A PG10 Short Story

13. I Can't Have You Back

I manage to dodge him during the photo session, Jasmine having (thankfully) told the photographer that she did not want any solo bridesmaid and groomsmen pictures. Then before Jas and Val were welcomed to the party I concentrated my conversations on Jasmine's grandma. Asking her how she's finding everything, what she's got going on in her life and where her latest cruise destination is - it's Jamaica. I even fetch her a small glass of wine from the bar to keep her happy as everyone around us chats.

After everyone ate dinner, Pierre made his speech, it was charming, sweet and hilarious. I even received a mention as he thanked people for playing their part in the day. When our eyes met I could've thrown up, my hands quivered a little as I tried to steady myself and my emotions. See, I hate that he can do this to me.

I manage to sneak outside during the first dance. The sight was charming, but Pierre's presence is suffocating and whilst I'm okay with him being here, I don't know if I can fully handle it. I pull a cigarette from my purse, the cool night air enveloping me and shocking my senses a little. It acts as a small reset, the freshness knocking me back onto both feet, my heart rate returning to a normal pace.

I light up the cigarette, cringing a little as I imagine Mama catching me smoking, hopefully the commotion inside leaves her distracted enough that she won't know. I'm fully aware smoking isn't a great habit, it's not something I make a regular occurrence. I hate that I do it (especially recently where I've found myself reaching for them more and more). Usually only on nights out or special occasions is when they appear in my purse. However, the stress of today calls for one, and I guess a wedding can class as a special occasion.

"Mind if I have one of those?" A voice calls. I start in my place, jumping around four feet in the air as I gasp. My hand pressing to my chest. Of course it's not just anybodys voice.

It's the very voice I came out here to avoid.

With my heart rate still faster than it should be, pounding a little in my ears. I roll my eyes, cursing my luck then actually hissing a quiet 'fuck' before reaching into my purse to pull out another cigarette. I shove it into Pierre's hands without fully looking up then take another drag of the cigarette between my own lips.

It's quiet between us, silent really as I try and wonder further away from Pierre, towards the green bushes of grapes. The problem is, with each step I take Pierre follows.

He wants to talk, I know he does, but I frankly can't be bothered. I'm tired of talking about us. I'm tired of talking about us to my friends, my family, Sam. I'm tired of talking about us to people I barely know when they recognise me from articles online and edge Pierre into their first conversation with me.

"Good to see you." I say, my voice strained before I take another puff of the cigarette. It's not good to see him. Unlike a year ago when I was desperate for a glimpse of him, I've been avoiding every trace possible of Pierre.

"You too." He says, with a small smile. I think he means his genuinely. "You look great!" Pierre says and for the first time I look at him properly. He looks relaxed, his hair is longer than it was the last time I saw him and he looks strangely comfortable in his suit, something which I don't think would've happened 3 years ago. He would've complained and refused to wear it I'm sure. Pierre looks great too, but I don't tell him that.

"Thanks." I say, my voice quieter and less confident than I wanted it to be. "Half of it is down to Jasmine." I hum awkwardly. It's true - she had hairstylists, makeup artists and everything to make sure that she and the rest of the bridal party looked stunning today. "She went real bridezilla but I think it was worth it, it's been a stunning day." I say and cringe to myself. I sound like someone out of an old movie 'stunning day'? Who says that in a real life conversation? Apparently now me. My words are true I suppose.