There would be no wedding
Lucy wandered into the living room with a sense of listless float, as though her toes barely touched the threadbare carpet. By the window, Sarah stood draped in a wedding dress as dazzling as daylight, every fold of silk reflecting odd corners of forgotten dreams. The bodice pulled tight to her form, a tracing of pearls like dew glimmering along her collarbones. Her eyes shimmered with a gentle joy so light Lucy worried it might vanish with a sneeze.
Good gracious, youre radiant! Lucys voice tumbled out in bursts, too bright and jangly in the odd hush. Im so happy for you, my dear! At last, youve let go of Arthur and opened your heart to possibility! Youve done wonderfully, truly.
At the mention of Arthur, Sarahs smile soured, flickered, vanished. She fussed with the hidden hook-and-eyes at her hip, avoiding Lucys gaze.
Id better take this off, Sarah muttered, her fingers nimble as moths freeing themselves from a wardrobe. Only two weeks left If anything happens to the gown, Ill never find another.
Lucy bit her lower lip, a stray pin-prick of guilt blooming inside her. Why had she brought up Arthur? Now, with Thomas in Sarahs lifea decent, steady manthe shadows of the past seemed pointless, cruel. Arthur never deserved a single tear, not after all the harm, she thought, but the thought hid in invisible folds anyway.
There was a time when Sarah thought Arthur was the oneher only, her always. She believed love could outlast anythingjobs, distance, time zones, dreams washed downriver. But slowly the walls of that love cracked. Arthur drifted away, first finding reasons not to meet, later criticising her taste, friends, her ambitions. He convinced her to give up that brilliant job at the agency, persuaded her not to take a posting in Edinburgh, even pressed her to switch careers entirely.
Sarahs family saw her changing, watched helplessly as she shrank into herself, losing the shine and laughter they adored. Conversations turned sour with argumentsArthur spread seeds of doubt until Sarah believed her family wanted to ruin something perfect. Eventually, she barely spoke to them at all.
And one day, Arthur simply vanished. He left no letter. No text. Not even a snake of his cologne on the quilt. In his absence, Sarah was left with a cleft in her souland a son she decided to raise alone, come what may.
Lucy, watching her friend slip out of the dress, felt the oddest pangsa sense of floating guilt sprinkled with longing to witness Sarahs happiness without summoning the ghosts.
Little Archie was four now: a whirlwind of why and please and look! His questions wrapped the world in riddleswhy clouds drift, why grass is green, why his hair loops and bobs like no one elses. Nursery staff praised him: quick to learn, sharp with words, eager for tales.
Archie spent most of his days in the gentle care of Dave and JanetSarahs parents. They took proud charge of his upbringing, enrolling him in a nursery with French afternoons, swimming lessons, ballet on Saturdays. Sarah herself visited him several evenings a week, never staying more than an hour.
The reason was simple and quietly excruciating. Archie uncannily resembled his father. Same brown curls, same sidelong smile, same eyesfull of questions, secrets. Every time Sarah looked at her son she slipped back to the days she believed her family would be golden and whole. She loved Archie fiercely; each success, every giggle. But always, beneath the surface, pain bit at her anklesstrong as a forgotten bramble in long grass. She would cuddle him or peer into his eyes, then turn away, pretending to fidget with her scarf, tears pressing hard against her lashes. Only when Archie charged off for his next adventure did she let them fall.
One evening, Sarah stopped by her parents to collect Archie. He was on the rug, surrounded by jumbled puzzle pieces, brow furrowed in delicious focus. On seeing his mother, he leapt up and threw his arms around her.
Mum, look! he tugged her to the puzzle. I nearly finished ittheres a house, theres a tree, andand therell be a dog here soon!
Sarah knelt, trying for a smile.
Its lovely, she breathed, smoothing his curls. Youre brilliant, you know.
Archie hesitated, looking up with frank, wondering eyes.
Mum, wheres my dad? All the other kids have dads. He chewed his lip, uncertain. Why not me?
Sarah froze. Something pinched inside, sharp as winter frost, yet she strove for a gentle, steady tone.
I dont know, sweetheart, she whispered. Daddys far away but Im sure he thinks about you.
Archie pondered this seriously, lips pressed thin. Then why doesnt he ring? His voice was puzzled, not accusing. I could tell him I tie my own laces now!
Hes just ever so busy Sarahs reply trembled, thick. But he would be proud of you, darling.
He considered this, then nodded, diving back to the jigsaw, conviction restored. Ill finish this house, Mum. Then Dad will know Im clever!
Sarah remained by his side, tears burning her throat. Words failed her; instead, she simply stroked his hair, breathing in the bubblegum scent of childrens shampoo, desperate to stretch and freeze this tiny fragment of peaceher son, nearby, bright, trusting, and safe from all lifes unsolvable riddles.
And still, even now, Sarah could not quite banish Arthur from her head. Sometimes, she spun stories: something dreadful must have happened; perhaps he was trapped, unable to call. These daydreams steadied her heart, stopping her from sliding entirely into despair.
Her family tried to reach her. Janet would gently urge, Dont dwell on the past, focus on your boy. Friends were blunter: He left, face it. Move on. And Sarah snapped, recited tales of promised happiness, defended Arthurs every slight. Arguments ended with Sarah withdrawing and friends sighing, defeated.
But Sarah kept busy. She scoured the internet, sent polite emails to friends of friends. She even wrote desperate messages on forums. Always, she hoped hed return. She couldntnot reallyaccept that Arthur had simply chosen to disappear.
And eventually, after five long years, Thomas came into Sarahs story, as suddenly and surely as rain on a wedding day. They met at the birthday of a mutual pal. He was solid, Thomas: reliable as oak furniture, gentle as sheep, hands warm and eyes steady. He was real.
From the first, Sarah realised she could simply *be* with Thomasno forced brightness, no tiptoeing. When she was tired, he suggested a quiet evening in. If she wanted silence, he respected it. He was the kind of man shed always wanted: steady, serious, genuine. And what kindness! He remembered her coffee order, kept track of her colleagues names, resolved repairs quietly before she even noticed. She sunk into the shelter of his care, letting herself be carried for once.
What truly stirred her heart was how quickly Thomas won over Archie. On their first meeting, Archie eyed him warily, clung to his mums hand. But Thomas squatted beside him, asked which cartoons he liked: half an hour later, they were building mighty towers, giggling conspiratorially.
Thomas became a fixture in Sarahs parents house, taking Archie to the park, teaching him the balance bike, reading stories before bed, painting wild tigers together. One evening, Sarah found them in a fortress of scrap paper. Thomas smiled up and said quietly, Id like to truly be his dad. If you agree, I will adopt Archie.
Lucy was genuinely thrilled for Sarah. She could see the spark return to her friends eyes, the lingering frown lines smoothing. For the first time in years, Sarahs smiles didnt look borrowed from someone else. But today, Lucy had slippedand brought up Arthurs name. She hoped it wouldnt send Sarah deep into her pangs and regrets.
But Sarah seemed calm, almost grown.
Im not the same as I was, Sarah said with soft conviction, laying her gown on the duvet with the reverence for a ship in a bottle. I know now that my feelings for Arthur belong in the past. Sometimes, I regret naming Archie after himit was foolish. I wouldnt listen to reason How did you all put up with me?
Lucy rested a hand on her arm.
Do you plan to bring Archie to live with you?
Yes, Sarahs voice went suddenly sharper. Thomas wants us to live together as a family. He even suggested we change Archies name, so its easier on me. Therell be paperwork when the adoptions done.
Rain streaked the windowpane. Sarah watched it trace rivulets, her expression unreadable.
I used to think Archie would drag me back to the old pain but I was wrong. Hes my son, and he deserves a childhood with two parents who love him. Granny and Grandpa are wonderful, of course. But they cant be parents, not forever. Thomas understands. He loves Archie so much. You should see it!
Great idea! Lucy bubbled. Let Archie help pick a name. Itll help him adjust.
Sarah sighed. Maybe. I havent decided. Theres time.
But inside, Sarah was lying. She still loved Arthur. That love clung, sticky as honey. But it had led her only to sorrow. Her parents increasingly limited contactSarah, weeping at every visit, frightened their grandson. Friends avoided her dramas. It was time to begin again, to focus on the living, not the lost.
On the wedding, for example.
If only it were simple.
Thomas was every inch the good man. Solid, true. But he was not Arthur. Sarahs feelings for him were skin deep; she was drifting downriver on his affections, not her own.
If Arthur returned she would give anything to be with him.
*****
There wont be a wedding! Sarah declared, her laughter jagged, words bouncing like pebbles on a canal. Were ships passing in the night, Thomas!
Thomas gazed at her, too stunned to speak. The wedding loomedseven days away, invites were out, cakes ordered, lists ticked and checked. And suddenly, Sarah spun, wild-eyed, all intent and urgency.
What do you mean, no wedding? Thomas finally stammered. Sarah, whats happened?
Sarah dismissed his questions with a flick. She darted about, grabbing jumpers and books, tossing them into an open suitcase. Her eyes blazed, lips caught up in an unfamiliar, almost giddy smile.
Arthurs back! she burst out. Her voice trembled with uncaged joy. He arrived yesterday. We talkedexplained everythingI still cant fully believe it!
She turned to face him fully, exhilaration shining through, and Thomas saw there was no sadness, no regretjust eagerness.
Im grateful, you know, for these past months, she continued, softer. Youve been everything I could wish for, Thomas. Safe, steady, generous but I dont truly love you. Not the way I want to. Now Ive got a chance at happiness, I cant let it slip away.
Thomas felt a frost creep down his chest. Arthur. Always Arthur. The unreachable ideal that haunted every moment, each meal shared. Hed hoped time and tenderness would win, but the past was the strongest thing in her heart.
Youve spoken to him? he managed, voice brittle.
He explained, Sarah replied, sharp. Said it was all a misunderstanding. That all this time, I was the only thing on his mind.
She resumed packing. Thomas stood numbly.
We spoke by phone, she went on, rifling through the top drawer. His parents shipped him to Newcastle for studyhe had no way to tell me, everything blocked, no phone. Thats why he vanished. But its all right nowwell be together, finally.
Sarah remembered that callthe trembling, rushed voice on the line:
Sarah, its not as you think. My parents forced my hand. It was Newcastle or nothing. They stopped my bank cardsmy phone, everything. I couldnt reach you.
But why didnt you call? Sarahs voice on the phone was threadbare, hiding a wail.
How could I? I had nothing left. I didnt want to sound pathetic.
Listening, Sarah had felt warmth spread inside, melting all that stagnant grief. She realised shed waited for this call every waking hour.
Now its all different, Arthur insisted. I left. Im home. I wont go away again.
Those words rattled in her now as she finished stuffing socks amid wedding veils.
She gets it all sorted in her mind, Thomas thoughtsad, a little marooned.
Sarah, checking the rain, straightened. Thomass face had gone pale, chalky as if about to lift off altogether.
Dont fret, Sarah offered, not unkind, but not tender. Ive let everyone know. I explained thingspeople will be supportive. Youre strong, youll survive.
She closed the suitcase, tested the handle as if this were the most critical thing in the world.
And please, dont call or write or leave messages, she said firmly. My decision is made. No changing it now.
He watched her drag the suitcase. She totteredcaught herselfthen marched toward the door. There was fear there, but also certainty, blinding and ecstatic.
Thomas stood, hands clenched and open. The need to shout, to demand some answer, writhed inside him. But he said only, Are you certain? Couldnt you wait a little?
Sarah, hand on the door, back rigid.
What if Arthur wont take you back? Thomas said softly. Or wont accept Archie? Did he propose, at least?
She spun, eyes hot. He invited me to talkthats enough! Stop trying to poison thingsArthur isnt like that! Her voice faltered but she surged forward, suitcases in hand.
Might help if youd lend a hand, she muttered, half under her breath.
Thomas took a step, almost like muscle memory, to help her with the bags. Then stopped cold. Why help the one stomping on your heart? He realised Sarah was already gone in her headalready at Arthurs, already writing the next lines of her story. She believed tomorrows happiness lay in his arms.
But reality was a jumble. Arthur wanted to tie up loose ends, not weave new beginnings. He had already made other plans.
Dragging her suitcase through the door, Sarah pausedhand resting on the brass as if a thought plagued herthen flung it open and vanished, never glancing back.
Thomas slumped into the nearest seat. Her perfume hung in the hallway, and her wordsArthur isnt like that!still rang in his ears.
Now there was only stillness, heavy and sharp. Plans, futures, illusions had all left too. Hed have to learn to live in this airless, echoing silence.
*****
Arthur opened his door, surprised by early-morning commotion. On the stoop stood Sarah, two suitcases by her side. Her eyes sparkled, her steps brisk with hope.
He stared, an incredulous thought looping: How did she get it so wrong?
He had thought the past done withSarahs involvement with Thomas had given him freedom to return to Norwich with his wife, their lives undisturbed by phone calls or ghosts. Hed even felt grateful for her new lovefor with it, the burdens disappeared.
Hed called Sarah once to clarify thingsnothing more than a polite end. He certainly hadnt intended this.
And now, here she wasbags, expectation, faith blazing in her expression.
Arthur! Sarahs voice trilled, ignoring the worlds logic. Its settledIm here now. Well finally be together!
She stepped forward; Arthur instinctively raised a hand.
Sarah, wait His voice was soft, as gentle as drizzle. Youre not aware of everything.
Her grin evaporated. What are you talking about? We agreed to meet, to talk!
Arthur sighed, a weighty, final sound.
Im married, he said quietly. Have been for two years. Im very happy.
Sarah froze. Her eyes, wide as autumn ponds, went pitch-black with disbelief. She just shook her head, overwhelmed.
No, thats not trueyou called me, said everything had changed!
I called to say goodbye properly, Arthur said. To explain the pasts behind us. We have our own lives now. Im sorry if you misunderstood.
Sarahs fists balled, lips wobbling with fury and heartbreak.
You lied to me! she screamed. How could you? I gave up everything for you!
Arthur, feeling more weary with each twist, kept his voice steady.
I never promised you anything. You decided all this yourself. I avoided hurting you. Now things are clear, arent they?
Sarah howled. She hurled a suitcasethe contents spilled like lost hours across the entryway. She sobbed, accused, pleaded. Eventually Arthur had to guide her out. He closed the door, hoping the story would finish there. But from the other side came her voicea storm pounding wood.
Ill be back! she shouted. Youll regret this!
When finally the building went silent, Arthur slumped onto his sofa, already plotting to sell the flat, to vanish to some other far-off bit of England.
******
Sarah drifted through grey city streets, numb as November mist. Tears blurred the lights, thoughts flickered, her world hollow and cold. In her dreams, Arthur would have swept her into arms, called her his beloved; but now, reality was sharp, a rimed knife of loss.
By and by, Sarah found herself at Thomass doorstep. She wiped her cheeks, fussed with her hair, tried to paste herself together. She ranghesitantly, fearing the echo.
Thomas took his time. He opened the door, expression shuttered as a Sunday shop, no trace of the pasts warmth. He said nothing, just watched.
Thomas, please Sarahs voice trembled, every word aching with desperate hope. I know how horribly I acted. Id do anything to fix thingsI never will mention Arthur again. Never. I see it nowI can be happy only with you. Please, give me a second chance.
She meant it; at that moment, her longing was pure.
But Thomas shook his head, softly, decisively. No, he murmured. Not again.
You chose. You stood here, packed your bags, and left me. Now, because youre alone, you want to come back?
I made a mistake, Sarah pleaded. I was confusedcaught up. I
He sighed, weary, and finally said, voice firm: I cant trust your words any longer. Goodbye, Sarah.
Her heart seemed to collapse inwards. He looked at her kindly enough, but all warmth had gone.
Please she whispered.
Forgive me, Thomas said gently. But this is for the best.
He closed the door. Sarah dropped onto the stairs, covered her face, and wept. This time her tears were for everything lostArthur, Thomas, hope itselfand for not knowing how to find her way forward, in this strange, unsteady world.
