why shouldn’t I have said it? It was true. I was in love with him. Head over heels, full-on obsessed, completely in love with everything about him. I loved him so much I wanted to shout it from the rooftops. But I knew how panicky he felt about the whole serious relationship thing. He hated the thought of being tied down. He didn’t want a long-term relationship, and I was at pains to keep things casual and fun so as not to frighten him off.
When I received that terrible phone call saying he’d had a car accident and been taken to hospital, my mask slipped and I could no longer hide how I felt. He’d seen it and panicked. Shut me out. I don’t know why I thought expressing my love for him in a letter was a good thing to do. I suppose I was too angry and sad and shocked to think clearly at the time, but there wasn’t a moment that went by that I didn’t wish I hadn’t said all those things and sent it to him.
It had been just over a week since Elena and I visited Willow Hall, and I’d thought of nothing but Anthony ever since. I was haunted by his voice and kept replaying everything he’d said over and over in my mind, analysing every moment, every look, every move. I was driving myself mad. Even though Anthony hadn’t been far from my thoughts all year, I’d learned to live without him. He was a constant niggle I couldn’t quite shake off, but I’d managed to function well enough. Now, though, that niggle was a full-on itch that dominated everything. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I was distracted at work.
I didn’t know what to do. It felt pathetic to be yearning for him a year after he’d dumped me, but I couldn’t help it. It was like I’d peeled off a bandage, thinking the wound beneath had almost healed, only to find a huge, gaping gash pumping out blood.
It wasn’t even like I was going to be seeing him again. Elena hadn’t managed to convince Daniel to move the wedding to Willow Hall after all. I hadn’t let her see how disappointed I was; I’d just agreed it was a big thing to rearrange everything at this stage and said I didn’t blame them. But I’d cried when I put the phone down. Which was stupid, because I didn’t want to see Anthony again if I felt like this afterwards. It was better all round.
Even so, I was plagued with irrational thoughts and madcap ideas about how I could get back to Willow Hall. Who did I know that was getting married and might choose it as their wedding venue? Could I convince my parents to renew their vows? Maybe I could carry on pretending I was getting married and go back for a second look. Hmm, no… too dishonest and much too desperate.
Sighing heavily, I filled a jug of water and started topping up the vases of flowers around the shop. I felt so tired and hopeless that even the cheery spring blooms couldn’t perk me up. The shelves of our florist shop, The Birdcage, were filled with beautiful multicoloured tulips, jaunty yellow daffodils, pink fluffy peonies, purple irises and white calla lilies. We had roses of every colour, gerberas, lilies, lisianthus and anemones. Potted primroses and hyacinths, which filled the shop with their own sweet scent. Usually just the sight of the flowers in our lovely shop cheered me up, but today, for some reason, I only felt like going home. But what would I do there? Just mope?
The water I was pouring into a vase of yellow roses overflowed and puddled on the shelf before dripping on to the floor. Groaning, I set my jug down and went to get a paper towel to mop up the spillage. It was only water, but at that moment it felt like the end of the world. Tears pricked my eyes and I couldn’t help thinking everything would be better if Anthony were here. The water wouldn’t have spilled, the flowers would smell sweeter, the shop would look prettier, and I wouldn’t feel so bloody wretched.
I sighed again as I looked round at the flower-filled vintage birdcages hanging from the ceiling; the shabby chic dresser displaying scented candles; the twinkling white fairy lights I kept on all year round. It was just the same as it had been last year when Anthony had been around. It was depressing to realise that virtually nothing had changed in that time, including my feelings for him. Where would I be this time next year? Still standing here in the same spot, looking at the same shop and pining for him? I couldn’t see anything changing any time soon.
The bell above the shop door tinkled and someone stepped into the shop behind me.
‘Hello, Rachel.’
I froze at the sound of his voice before slowly turning my head to look over my shoulder. Anthony smiled awkwardly and shut the shop door with a clunk.
‘I’m sorry to call in so unexpectedly,’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘I just wondered if I could have Elena’s phone number.’
I couldn’t speak for a moment. I just stared at him, disbelieving my own eyes. Anthony raised both eyebrows and I suddenly realised I had to say something.
‘Oh.’ I turned towards him then retreated to the other side of the shop, putting the counter between us. I didn’t trust myself to stand so close to him and not do something desperate and humiliating. It wasn’t fair of him to show up today of all days, when I was feeling so weak and emotionally raw. ‘Why?’
He shrugged. ‘We’d like to know if she’s thought any more about having her wedding at Willow Hall.’
‘She has but she hasn’t been able to convince Daniel, I’m afraid.’
‘Oh, really? That is disappointing.’ He walked slowly across the shop towards me, his boots clicking on the stone quarry tiles. He was more casually dressed today. Dark jeans and a navy rugby shirt, white T-shirt showing beneath. ‘Any idea why?’
‘They just think it would be too much effort to rearrange.’ I smoothed my trembling hands over the flat sheets of wrapping paper on the counter and drew in a deep, calming breath.
Anthony frowned. ‘But they’d get a really good deal.’
‘I know they would. Elena knows that too. But it’s only four months until their wedding and the invitations have gone out already.’
‘So what? It’s just a venue change. No big deal.’
‘Well, they obviously think it is.’
‘Can’t you convince them otherwise?’
‘Me? It’s nothing to do with me. I’m just the bridesmaid. Besides, you saw for yourself how much she loved Willow Hall. If she can’t convince Daniel, no one can.’
‘Will he not come to the hall for a look himself?’
‘I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Daniel, not me. I can give you his number if you like?’
‘Yes, please.’ Anthony nodded and then turned to gaze around at the shop as I nipped into the back room for my mobile phone. My heart was beating in my throat and I felt short of breath as I opened my contacts to find Daniel’s number. I scrolled past his name three times before finally focusing enough to remember who I was searching for. My head was spinning so much I felt dizzy. I couldn’t believe Anthony was here in the shop when I’d been telling myself I’d never see him again. ‘Do you want me to give you my number and you can just send it through to me?’ Anthony called.
‘Erm, it’s okay. I’ll just write it down.’
‘It’d probably be easier. No chance of mistakes.’ His voice got louder suddenly and he appeared in the archway to the back room. Producing his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, he proceeded to read out his phone number. Flustered, I fumbled with my phone and managed to input his number. I could only hope he didn’t notice how shaky I was. ‘There, you can forward the contact to me now.’
‘Okay.’ It was a straightforward task, but my mind went blank as I gazed at my phone, trying to work out how to forward the number to him. The only thing in my head was the fact I now had Anthony’s number in my phone, and how was I going to stop myself from calling him in the middle of the night? The business card Julian had given me was sitting on my kitchen windowsill at home, proudly propped up against an orchid. I’d been proud of myself for not inputting it into my phone straight away, but now Anthony had scuppered that.
‘It hasn’t changed in here, has it?’ Anthony said, looking around him.
‘No,