Chapter 49: Chapter 49
The closer it gets to Anna’s wedding, the more I try breaking the ice between me and Scott. I call, text, even go to his house but I can’t bring myself to ring the doorbell so I leave a note in his mailbox reminding him about it. He never responds. My displeasure is Anna’s relief. She is tired of Scott and Michael’s constant bickering and refuses to let them ruin her wedding.
The invitation was mailed to Michael weeks ago, and she isn’t going to revoke it, not after all he has gone through. The fight between him and Scott left him with a broken nose and jawbone. Lara said that if Scott lays another finger on Michael, Michael will press charges. I want to warn Scott but he doesn’t return my calls or texts. I’m getting desperate now.
Lara decides she is going to have Anna videotape her hairdressing exam the night before the wedding. She claims it makes perfect sense. If she does my hair the night before, all she will have to do on the day of the wedding is touch me up. Lara’s idea sends Anna over the edge complaining it’s too close to her wedding, but Lara argues that we can treat it like a bachelorette party and drink our liquor from Tim Horton’s coffee cups. Lara of course doesn’t drink, but we do.
She warns me that the changes will be dramatic seeing it’s for a final exam. I’m so beside myself over Scott feeling ugly on the inside, it didn’t matter to me what I look like on the outside. I just hope for Anna’s sake that she does a good job because I am part of the wedding party.
Anna and I drank Rye and Coke, fifty/fifty split into medium-size cups so after having the first one on an empty stomach, I’m feeling pretty good and ready for Lara to do her magic. By the third coffee, I’m seeing two Lara's and two Anna’s. When she is finished I’m left with a trendy chin-length bob that does wonders for my curls, for sure I’m going to save on hairspray, and maybe the bees will stop chasing me.
The morning of her wedding, the sun shines and the birds sing, it's perfect. We isolate ourselves from the rest of the world and go to work getting ready for the wedding. I can't even count the number of times I check my phone to see if Scott called. I give up trying to call him. It becomes clear to me that he will contact me when he’s ready to.
The church is torture; every time the door opens I turn hoping to see Scott. Each time it isn’t him, I feel more and more disappointed. I keep telling myself to stop thinking about him and start focusing on Anna but it's hard. I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, but I know I have to be strong and not let it show.
The priest begins the service talking about cherishing the sanctity of marriage when the faint echo of the door opening catching my attention. The final guest files into the church. I feel his presence before I see him. I coyly turn in the direction of the noise needing to make sure it's him. I want to run to him, kiss, and hug him but I remain in my designated spot as the priest drones on. I find myself checking continuously making sure he doesn’t disappear.
When I join everyone outside Jeremy notices me first and comes over to me giving me a warm hug. He pulls back to get a better look at me, “You look beautiful!”
“Thanks, I don’t feel it,” I say miserably. “Go talk to him,” he encourages.
“He avoided me all summer Jeremy, why is he going to talk to me now?” “Because he loves you,” Jeremy reassures.
I glanced over at Scott who was talking to Johnson. Andy and Anna are still in the church signing papers. Lara and Michael are talking to someone I never met before who appears to be pregnant but not as far along as Lara. I take Jeremy’s advice and start approaching Scott who notices and closes the distance between us.
We stop a foot away from each other and stand silently taking each other in.
He is the most gorgeous guy here. “Scott.”
“Isabella.” We say in unison.
“You go first,” I offer feeling really nervous.
He looks around, “I don’t think here is the time or the place.” “Then let’s go somewhere,” I suggest.
“Now?”
“Please?”
“My car is parked down the street,” he offers. “Okay, we’ll go there.”
I walked with him noticing he doesn’t reach for my hand. I fight back my tears as he pulls his key fob out from his trousers and opens the doors causing the car to make its familiar beep noise. We get in and he stares out the front windshield. I notice he isn’t looking at me or touching me. The vibe I’m feeling is scaring me. My tears were now blurring my vision. Neither of us dares to go first.
Risking rejection, I mount his lap so we are facing each other and my tears begin falling once I notice his cold expression, “Please stop ignoring me, I can’t take it anymore,” I plead, “I promise I won’t hurt you again.”
“I’ve heard all this before,” his voice is deep and resolute. He sounds sure of himself, appearing strong, “I won’t live with you in Port-Harcourt, that part of our relationship is over. You can have the apartment.”
The severity of his words makes me gasp. I’m stunned by the critical turn in our relationship. “No!” I’m horrified. “Our life is with each other! I don’t want anyone else. You can’t stop loving me that easily. What about our shows and school?”
“I’ll never stop loving you Isabella, it’s just not enough. I’m filing for separation; we can still do the shows if that’s what you want. I need to move on with everything else.”
“Okay, we’ll still do the shows,” I agree frantically wanting to keep him in my life as much as possible. If it’s the only way I can see him then I will take it. Maybe he will change his mind, I can hope.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think and I don’t trust that you’ll never go back to him again, and without trust we have nothing.”
“Please don’t give up on us,” I plead. “If we can win the Olympics, we can get through this.”
“I’m sorry,” he says solemnly.
His mouth covers mine, nourishing my primal needs. He raises me a few inches at the waist and tears my panties off like they are made of tissue paper. He unzips his pants before lowering me onto him, taking me one last time. When he completes the act, I unravel in his arms. We know we should get back to the wedding but Anna is aware of the troubles we are having and if we don’t return, I figure she will understand. Scott looks at me expectantly, “Do you want to go back?”
“No,” I say feeling drained. “Can you take me back to Anna’s so I can pack? I just want to go home.”
“Sure,” his eyes are bloodshot, lost. He starts the car and we head back to her house so I can pack. Scott sits on the bed watching me fold my clothes. He looks as miserable as I feel. He helps me with my suitcases placing them in the trunk of the car before getting in. He places his hand on my headrest the way he always does when he backs up and starts looking in-between the two back seats when our eyes lock onto each other and a tear rolls down his cheek. I swipe it away with my finger. Seeing him cry starts me crying all over again.
He put his car into drive and places the hand that is on the headrest onto his shifter knob. We drive in silence for about fifteen minutes before his hand covers mine, “I didn’t want to tell you at the wedding, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I reassure, “we needed to talk.”
“I didn’t think you would agree to do shows after I told you,” he comments.
We pass a sign saying there is a McD’s two kilometers ahead, “Do you need food?” he asks.
“No just you,” I reply. He squeezes my hand in response to my comment. The thought of food made me ill. Scott’s eyes are fixed straight ahead, “You don’t have to tell your mother about us, she already knows.” He spoke to mom about us, telling her that we were never going to be together again. I can’t help it, I start crying again. He continues to explain why he called her, “I thought it would be easier for you if I told her, and for all intense purposes we had to figure out your new living arrangements. She knows it was my decision and believe me, she gave me an earful. Please stop crying.”
I looked up at him and now tears are running freely down his cheeks, “Damn it,” he curses. He pulls over onto the side of the highway and throws it in the park before wiping his tears away and pinching the bridge of his nose like that’s going to make him stop crying or something.
“Does she know why?” I ask meekly.
“She doesn’t know about Michael,” he says roughly.
“Your mother can’t afford more than what she’s already giving you, so if you need money I’ll provide for you. You won’t have to pay it back. I don’t care about the money. We can increase the number of shows we do if you want, to make it easier for you.”
“We’ll have to,” I say miserably.
“I’ll need some time to find a new place, I’ll have to stay with you until then,” he informs me.
“Sure,” I agree.
I place my elbow on the car door and leaned my forehead into my hand closing my eyes. He puts the car back into drive and accelerates to highway speed before pulling back onto the highway. We only have a few more minutes before we arrive back home. He parks the car in the lot and carries both our bags up.