You're the One That I Want (31 page)

I’d already known there was no way that I was ever going to get the girl, but hearing that she was getting married, that she’d be forever out of my reach, hurt. She’d agreed to marry Robert. No matter how she felt about me, the fact she’d said ‘yes’ to being his wife told me everything I needed to know.

I needed to forgive myself for the things I could not change, and move forward in the hope of salvaging the best friendship and love I’d ever known.

I wanted my friends back.

It’s quite impossible to move forward and tell yourself that you’re doing the right thing when everything seems to be making you question it. Weddings make you think for a start (and I’d been to two that year), as do love songs on the radio, romantic films or crazy dreams full of wacky scenarios and flashbacks – highly unhelpful. I thought of Ben a lot in the lead-up to my wedding. More than I should have.

It upset me that he kept springing into my thoughts. I couldn’t understand why, when I was so happy, his face kept coming into focus to contest that.

And I
was
happy. I was completely happy with my life with Robert. That’s something I can’t stress enough. He was my best friend, he made me laugh every day, he challenged me physically and mentally, he was my ultimate pillar of support, always there, always loving, always giving. There was no reason for me to look elsewhere or consider the possibility that we weren’t right together. We were, I knew we were, had done since day one.

But what did Ben taking over my thoughts mean? That’s what I kept asking myself. Was it the Universe’s way of telling me to think wisely before getting married? Was
it suggesting I was meant to choose Ben? Or was he simply on my mind because I’d put him there.

A couple of months before my wedding, after driving myself slightly loopy, I decided to write an email to Ben, to get all my thoughts out in the hope that he’d be able to shed some light on the matter. I’m not entirely sure what I expected from him, but it helped to sit down and just blast out all my feelings. It helped me to organize them and see things more clearly.

That email sat unsent in my drafts folder for weeks. I thought about sending it time and time again. I’d look at it and reword bits, making sure it made sense, and that it truly reflected how I felt. It did, but something stopped me from typing his name in the address bar and pressing the send button. I let it sit there for as long as I could.

The night before my wedding I was in my old bedroom trying to sleep, but wasn’t having much luck. I had too much nervous energy bubbling away inside me. It didn’t help that my gorgeous wedding gown was hanging from the door of my wardrobe, demanding my attention – doing its best to tempt me out of bed and squeeze into it ahead of schedule.

Lying in the bed from my childhood, I thought about everything that could possibly go wrong the following day – the normal bride worries – but I also thought about me and Robert, about how far we’d come since our first smile at nine years old, to our wedding day. Thinking of our future, I knew we’d have a lifetime of happiness together. I knew, for absolute certain, that it was what I wanted.

Suddenly I decided I’d waited long enough.

I needed Ben to know how I felt.

I picked up my laptop from the floor and went into the draft folder of my emails.

I typed in his email address.

I clicked send.

Ben,

 

A few years ago I was told that, in order to stop my heart from being so torn, I had to choose my love story and stick to it. The thing is, I never really felt like I had a choice. You’d got with Alice and seemed perfectly happy, you never gave me cause to think otherwise. You also never fought for me or made me think that a future with you was a viable option. If I’m honest, it made me question if you’d ever really loved me at all. As a result I invested all my love and energy into Robert. I forgave him, and ended up loving him even more than I had before, because at that point I knew what it was like to be without him. I can’t say I regret the decision or the years we’ve spent together. I’m incredibly happy and loved. As we both know, Robert is a wonderful man.

 

However, every now and then I think about you and what could have been. Not constantly, but it’s been tugging away at me enough to keep you in my thoughts more than perhaps you ought to have been. For a while I thought I was having doubts – that it was my heart’s way of saying it’s you I love and should be with, but I’ve come to conclude that that is not the case. I DO love you, you can be certain of that, but I don’t believe we’re meant to be together, I don’t think I’m meant to be with
anyone. Instead that decision is one our hearts must make for themselves.

 

I know you didn’t believe it when I told you I loved you all those years ago, but I honestly did, and still do. Completely and utterly. Just thinking of you makes me smile. I don’t want to go through life without you there supporting me, and nor do I want you to be without my support and love.

 

Until now, I thought a part of me had been longing for you to come along and rescue me, but we both know I’m not in need of saving. Not in the slightest. There’s nothing to save me from. I’m in love with someone we both think is amazing. I’ll be full of happiness on the day of my wedding because I know that things are the way they should be.

 

So it’s not because I don’t love you that I’m marrying someone else, and it’s not because you didn’t love me that you stopped fighting for me or pursuing things. Instead, it’s because we both have so much love for the one man who’s been keeping us apart. He is OUR rock, OUR best friend, OUR Robert. It’s not from a lack of love that we’ll forever be apart, but too much.

 

You will always be in my heart and I know I’ll love you forever.

 

Yours, Maddy

 

xoxox

 

That was it.

There was no going back.

A surge of happiness bolted through me as I spotted him, staring back at me from the altar, looking simply divine. My wonderful man, Robert Miles – strong, reliable and loving. My best friend. I pursed my lips as my cheeks rose and tears sprang to my eyes at the very sight of him, looking more handsome than ever in his grey suit. His tall muscular frame visibly relaxed as his dazzling green eyes found mine, his luscious lips breaking into a smile that I couldn’t help but respond to.

And then I stole a glance to the right of Robert, to see my other love, Ben Gilbert – kind, generous and able to make my heart melt with just one look. But he wasn’t looking back at me. Instead, he had his head bowed and was concentrating on the floor in front of him; all I could see was the back of his waxed brown hair – the smooth olive skin of his face and his chocolate-dipped eyes were turned away.

His hesitance to look up struck a chord within me, momentarily making me wobble on my decision.

Suddenly, something within me urged him to look at me. Part of me wanted him to stop the wedding, to show
me exactly how much he cared. Wanted him to stop me from making a terrible mistake … but is that what I thought I was actually making? A terrible mistake?

I loved Robert, but I loved Ben too. Both men had known me for seventeen years – each of them had seen me at my worst, picked me up when I’d been caught in despair, been my shoulders to cry on when I’d needed to sob. They were my rocks. Plural. Not singular.

Yes, I’d made my decision. I’d accepted Robert’s proposal, I’d worn the big white dress and walked up the aisle – however, if Ben had spoken up, if he’d even coughed suggestively, then there’s a possibility I’d have stopped the wedding.

Even at that point.

But, as the service got underway, as the congregation was asked for any reasons why we should not have been joined in matrimony without a peep from Ben, it started to sink in that he was not about to start fighting.

He was letting me go …

I did not stop the service.

I did not run off like the girls in films or books who decide at the last minute that their wavering hearts need to be with ‘the other guy’, who had been patiently waiting in the wings since forever. I did not have a moment of realization and ‘put things right’.

There was nothing dramatic, no big outing of my scandal. Nothing. Just me, standing in front of Robert, telling him that he had my heart, that I would love, honour and obey him for the rest of my life. I declared my vows with love and determination, strength and clarity. Looking into Robert’s eyes and remembering everything we’d been
through, how he had been there for me, stood by me, fought for me. All the while telling myself that I was doing the right thing. I was making the right choice – because there was no other choice.

Never before has the term ‘bitter sweet’ been truer. I was marrying my best friend, the guy who made me laugh more than anything in the world, the one who I knew would do anything for me, but I was also saying goodbye to the possibility of the alternative love story – the one I had never and, from that point, would never, allow to have a proper chance.

My love story had been chosen. It might not have been the one others might have picked, but it was the one I was more than happy to live with.

Once the ceremony was complete and the register signed, we wandered hand in hand back through our gathered family and friends, smiling as they all cheered in delight, welcoming the newly formed Mr and Mrs Miles into the world.

That evening, during an unexpected break before dinner and the speeches, I stood outside, catching some fresh air in a trance-like daydream. I looked out at the candles that were beautifully placed on the vast green that was encased by towering trees, the sort the three of us had spent our carefree childhood climbing.

What a day it’s been, I thought to myself with a sigh.

I’d been there for a few minutes when I heard footsteps coming towards me. My breath caught in my throat as I took a quick glance and realized who was walking in my direction.

Ben.

‘You okay?’ he asked, his voice low and quiet.

I nodded in reply and turned back to the view.

He stood next to me.

Side by side we watched the candles’ flames dance and flicker, matching the twinkling of the starry sky above.

Without saying anything more, he took my hand in his and I instantly knew what was coming – those infamous three little squeezes, those longed-for three little unvoiced words, in the way he’d told me since he was just eleven years old.

One.

A bolt surged through me.

Two.

My lip wobbled.

Three.

My tears started to fall.

‘I always will,’ he leaned in and whispered, before slowly releasing my hand, turning around and walking away.