PART FIFTY THREE
'I don’t want to do this,' I signed to Freddy.
'You have to,' he replied, 'You’re being so stupid.'
'Its my choice.'
'We both know that you don't like it though. You want things to be different.'
I frowned at my brother, not pleased with how the day was going. I'd made a decision back in January to end things with Aston. My feelings were mostly irrelevant in that decision. I knew that if I pursued things further I would just end up breaking his heart. When it came down to it, I loved my job. I would never put it on the line for a boy. And I knew Aston would eventually expect me to pick him over my work. But in reality I just couldn’t ever see myself doing that. I could love him with all my heart, but it just wouldn't matter. My job would prevail.
And anyways, I would probably be a horrible girlfriend. I hadn't been in a proper relationship since I was in school, at 16. I didn’t know what was expected of me. I'd probably mess up there too! Why do a job if I wasn't good at it? I had no idea how to be in a relationship!
So that all made my decision easy, end things.
I sat in the kitchen, making a cup of tea while Freddy went searching for my mum throughout our childhood home. A good 15 minutes passed before my mum arrived in the kitchen, my tea mostly gone.
"What is Freddy telling me?" she asked, sitting at the counter opposite me.
"Nothing," I mumbled.
"He said you saw Aston today. That you were mean to him! What's going on?"
"It doesn’t matter."
"He said you didn't want to date him because of your Father and I. What is he talking about?" my mum asked.
"Nothing..."
"Jessica!" my mother warned.
"I just don’t think it's fair to be in a relationship with someone when I can't give them my time," I said, letting the truth slide out of my mouth. "I love my job. Just like you and Dad."
"Like me and Dad?" my Mum asked.
"You two hardly spend any time together," I shrugged, "It's clearly not an ideal relationship."
"Jessica!!" my Mum said shocked. To be fair she did look a little hurt.
"I'm just putting it how it is," I said, "I don’t want to pursue something with anyone because I know I won't be there all the time! I mean I had to bail on my own birthday, but it could just as well have been his birthday, or Christmas, or any oter important day, and I would have done the same thing."
"What does that have to do with me and your Father?"
"How many events have you had to miss for surgeries?" I questioned. "How many family meals did Dad miss when we were growing up because he needed to be in the office for something?"
"I still don't understand what this has to do with you and Aston," my Mum said slowly.
"How can it be a real relationship when you don't spend any time together?" I asked.
"Because we love each other," my Mum said simply. "We can easily forgive each other for missing silly events because we know, at the end of the day, we've got each other. You're father is the love of my life! I moved from Portugal for him!"
"But..."
"Jess, love doesn't have anything to do with being together all of the time. I would rather spend one day a year with your Father than be with anyone else. Even if they are there every day. It's got to do with a deeper connection than that."
"Yeah but..." I started, feeling like I was losing my argument. "What about Freddy?"
"What about him?"
"You were both working when he was sick! How can you let someone down like that? Isn’t it necessary to pick one or the other? Work or family?"
"Jess you were just a little kid!" my Mum said, "Your father and I were there every day at Freddy’s bedside. We started sign language lessons the second things turned bad!"
"But..."
"Jess, what's really going on? Because I think you’re just trying to use Freddy as a scapegoat for something else."
"I..." I started, before snapping my mouth shut.
"What?" my Mum asked, prodding me on.
"I don't want to hurt him."
“Who? Aston?” my Mum questioned.
“Yeah,” I sighed.
"Is that because you care about him?" my Mum asked, a smile playing on her face.
"What?!"
"Just wondering," she said. "I think you need to speak to him. It's clear that you want to try this with him, but you're obviously scared, which is probably why you’ve been so mean to him."
"But..."
"I bet he'll be at that charity dinner next weekend," my mum said. "Just tell him all of this."
"All of what? We haven't really said anything!" I exclaimed.
"Yes we have," my Mum said, "You have concerns about your job and spending time together, but you clearly care for him. You're scared of committing because you don't want to hurt him, so you've put up a front to scare him off. As you do with everyone..." she concluded, hitting the nail absolutely on the head.
"Whaaa?" I said, shocked she'd figured it all out. She was right.
"Just talk to him," she prompted. "Every relationship is different. What your father and I have works for us, now you need to figure out what works for you and Aston."
I sat and stared at her, contemplating all of this. Was it something I actually wanted to do. Or should I just keep pushing him away, to protect him from what I could end up doing to him?
After speaking to my mother for another half an hour and apologizing for insinuating that she was the reason I wasn’t interested in relationships, I left my childhood home and made my way back to my flat.
I had a lot on my mind. If anything, I was more confused than I had ever been. I really didn’t know what to do, and honestly I was pretty sure it would be a late in the game decision as to how I reacted the next time I saw Aston. If my Mum was right, he would be at the same charity event as me the following week. It was for the charity that got us into our whole mess in the first place, after all.
All I knew was that whatever my decision was, it depended on his reaction. He knew that I was a total train wreck when it came to this kind of thing. Would he really bother being further linked with someone like me, that could snap at any moment? I’d texted him after the football earlier in the day and not heard back. Maybe he was ignoring me because he was seriously over it?
Why did matters of the heart have to be so difficult?
PART FIFTY FOUR
“What about this one?” I asked, turning slowly in my front lounge. Marnie was sat on the sofa with a glass of wine, eyeing up the different dresses I was trying on for her.
“They’re all lovely!” she exclaimed.
“But which is the best?”
“Sissy, in the twenty some years that I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you even once concerned about how you look.”
I didn’t respond to this statement. Instead I shot Marnie an eye roll and wandered back to my room to try on another dress. To be honest I was concerned about how I looked because I knew I was likely to run into Aston. It was the night of a big charity dinner, for the same charity that Aston and I had first gone to an event for together. I don’t know why, but I felt the need to look good. Maybe it was a confidence thing, or maybe I was being superficial, but regardless I was fretting about my appearance.
“Thoughts?” I asked Marnie, once I’d come out of my room again.
“I like that the best,” Marnie replied, her eyes on the television behind me.
“Marn! Pay attention!”
“Jess, I have no idea what your deal is, but honestly they all look great.”
“That doesn’t help! I need to wear one dress, not six.”
“What about that green one?”
“What green one?” I asked.
“It’s like knee length, emerald green, with bead detailing on the bodice…”
“OH!” I said, my face lighting up. “Forgot about that one.”
“The green looks so nice with your skin tone.”
“Let me go try it,” I said, heading back to my room. It was weird, but I was acting like a teenage girl. What had this boy done to me?
I slipped into the dress, turning in the mirror and admiring my reflection. It was a nice dress.
“That’s the one!” Marnie declared.
“I agree.”
“I still think you’re being funny,” Marnie said, “Sissy… what’s really going on?”
“Nothing, just being indecisive,” I lied.
“Really?”
“Yup!”
The truth was, I hadn’t told her any thing about the Aston situation. I didn’t want to get her all excited about it. She was one of those people that would butt into my business and try to help me out, probably only causing trouble. I loved her dearly, but I liked to keep my mouth shut around her if I didn’t want things ending in disaster.
“So when is your date coming?” Marnie asked.
“No date tonight,” I said.
“Excuse me?! What is going on tonight?!”
“Just couldn’t find anyone,” I shrugged. Actually, if I wanted to speak to Aston it was probably better if I didn’t have some guy hanging around. It would just make things awkward.
“LIES!” Marnie declared.
“No,” I defended, “I asked everyone!”
“Yeah right,” Marnie said, “Jessica Rego, I can see right through you.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled.
“Something is up, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it! Whether you like it or not!”
“You do that,” I said, “I’ve got to go do my hair and makeup.”
“Oh, run away,” Marnie laughed.
I wandered back to my room and slipped my dress off, throwing a dressing gown on so I could do my hair and makeup. I didn’t want to get anything on my dress after all. Once finished I inspected my appearance in the mirror, slipping on some tear drop earings and a matching necklace, before shimmying back into my dress.
“How’s this then?” I asked Marnie, who was still sprawled on the sofa.
“Gorgeous,” she grinned.
“Thanks,” I said, going to sort myself a glass of white wine while I waited for my car to arrive. I was a ball of nerves as I sat with Marnie and sipped my drink. I had no idea what she was watching on the television, and honestly I didn’t care, I was too busy repeating the speech I’d written out for Aston in my head.
The buzzer went off, indicating my car was here. I said my goodbye to Marnie and headed down the stairs, nervous as anything.
Once at the event I made my way down the red carpet. Ever since I’d been with Aston, in whatever capacity that was, I’d become more of a press magnet than I was used to. It was probably due to his celebrity, and it was certainly something that I couldn’t be bothered with. I did my best to seem cordial, answering prying questions about being at the event alone, and then I headed into the venue.
Inside the banquet hall I made my way to my assigned table, spotting my parents already there. I was actually surprised to see my mother, as she didn’t come to these very often, and when I sat down she gave me a bright smile.
“You look nice,” she said with a wink.
“Thanks Mum,” I replied, pulling at my dress. I was more used to wearing long gowns to events like this, so it was a bit weird to be in a short one.
“Have you seen him yet?” she asked me.
“Who?” my father questioned, butting in.
“No one,” I said.
“Aston,” my Mum smiled.
“Oh, he’s coming, is he?” my Dad asked.
I felt my cheeks blush red and I did my best to distract myself from my parents. My Mum was nattering away about god knows what, and my Dad kept trying to embarrass me. I was 26 years old, but my parents still made me cringe like I was 14.
After about twenty minutes of sitting with my parents I spotted one of Aston’s band mates come into the room with his date on his arm. I stared at his entrance, keeping my eyes out for Aston.
And then I saw him, with a gorgeous blonde on his arm.
I had no idea who she was, but she seemed absolutely radiant in a navy blue gown, her slim petite frame looking absolutely perfect. I felt my fingers shaking in my lap as I stared at her, my eyes stinging as I snapped my glance away.
I avoided eye contact with my Mum, even though I knew she’d seen them come in too. Honestly, I had no idea what to do or say. I was so sure that I could just waltz up to him and tell him how it was. But clearly I’d not thought about this sort of situation. I’d waited too long, hell four months had passed. He’d clearly moved on, as he well should have.
Letting out a ragged breath I felt the massive wall in my psyche come smashing back down again. I knew I’d been stupid to veer off my normal course and let it slide up a bit. Why did I think that I could all of a sudden forget about all of the decisions I’d ever made in my life?
Nope, I was being stupid. I needed to get my priorities straight and forget about that silly boy across the room. For once and for all.