AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It is alright, Simon,” Nathan said quietly, keeping his eyes fixed on the carpet so as not to enrage his friend.
“What is alright?” Simon snapped.
“It is alright to be excited, to have hope for the future, to feel…something for Marion.” Nathan risked looking up into his friend’s face. Simon’s expression was taut with grief, but he was listening. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Haven’t I?” Simon shook his head and laughed bitterly. “Then why do I feel so guilty?”
“Because you love Stella.” Nathan knew he didn’t need to tell these things to his friend, not really, but sometimes a person needed to hear the truth said aloud. Even if they knew it well. “Because you are afraid of letting go of her, of losing her memory.”
For a moment, Nathan thought it looked like Simon was going to agree with him. Nathan had watched Simon suffer for five years after the death of his wife. He had watched everything that had happened to him. Nathan dared himself to continue. It was rare that Simon allowed him to speak like this, even though they were best friends.
“Perhaps a part of you is also afraid of the consequences if you were to fall in love again. Because of what happened, after Stella.”
Simon’s eyes widened in the mirror, but he didn’t turn around.
“We’ve never talked about it,” Nathan said quietly.
“What is there to say?” Simon answered bitterly.
There was a lot to say, but Nathan recognised that much of it was too painful still to even put into words. After Stella’s death, his friend had sunk into a severe depression. For a while, Nathan had worried that Simon would do something drastic, maybe leave the country or sell off all his assets and disappear, so violent in his melancholia was he. But then things had finally taken a turn, and the two men had never discussed it. Nathan thought it was worth addressing now, especially if it was what was keeping Simon back from committing whole-heartedly to his new marriage.
“After Stella died, you suffered,” Nathan said carefully, not wanting to go into heavy details and upset his friend. “Perhaps part of your guilt, part of your fear, is a reluctance to let yourself be that vulnerable again. It is a strange, terrible and freeing thing to be so unguarded with a lady.”
But it is worth it,Nathan thought. He knew this from his own marriage, but then he had never lost the woman he loved like Simon had. Nathan couldn’t bear the thought of going through this life without Eleanor by his side. Perhaps he too would struggle to trust in love again if Eleanor was taken from him. Simon said nothing for a long time, then only responded with a quiet,“Perhaps.”
Nathan couldn’t see what Simon was feeling. His jaw worked tightly as he did up his cuff links, standing in tense silence, and for a moment Nathan wondered if this was the moment Simon would let himself surrender to the possibility of happiness. But then the wall went up behind his eyes and Nathan knew his friend had retreated behind his grief.
“You speak of me being free, Nathan,” Simon said, gently pulling on his jacket and buttoning it. “The trouble is I don’t feel free. When they ask me today if anybody knows of a reason why I should not be married, I shall feel this same guilt all over again, because in my heart I know I am still wed, body and soul to Stella.”
“But Stella is gone,” Nathan said, as gently as he possibly could, but he still saw a wince of pain in Simon’s eyes. “And you are still here, and so is Marion. You have to try and make the best of it, and you can’t do that if you keep telling yourself this marriage is fraudulent.”
Simon looked at himself for a moment, tidying his dark hair ineffectually, clearly considering Nathan’s words thoughtfully. Finally, fully dressed and looking very much like the handsome groom, he turned to face his best man.
“I suppose you are right. I can…can have a successful marriage that doesn’t require as much intimacy as my first, can I not?”
Nathan frowned. If Simon’s plan was to hold Marion at arm’s length emotionally for the course of their marriage, then there was definitely going to be complications for them further down the line. However, weighing it up, Nathan thought it was probably better to agree with his friend and make sure that he made it to the church with a smile on his face than to berate him about the lunacy of trying to detach emotionally from a sensitive woman like Marion. He could do that after the vows were said.
“You can only do what you’re comfortable with,” Nathan smiled up at his friend, standing up to clap him on both shoulders. “You may find that intimacy grows over time, of course.”
Simon frowned as if he found the idea of becoming intimate with Marion disturbing, and Nathan thought he knew why. Simon could profess his undying dedication to Stella all he wanted, but he was still a man with a man’s needs. Nathan had seen the way his friend looked at Marion, with her flowing dark hair and intriguing dark eyes. He wanted her, and wanted her quite badly.
Eleanor had assured Nathan that she was convinced Simon’s attraction was returned by Marion. Both Nathan and Eleanor were secretly banking on the mutual attraction of the couple to tip the marriage over from an alliance of convenience to an alliance of attraction. Time would tell if Simon was capable of remaining distant with Marion once she was his wife in spirit and flesh. Nathan said none of this, however, and smiled up at his best friend with unwavering support.
“Come on, old chap!” he exclaimed. “Let’s get you to church!”
* * *
“Is it normal to be this nervous?” Marion muttered breathlessly as she and Eleanor rode in the carriage to the church. She pressed her white, gloved hand against her sternum, trying to calm the thrumming beat of her heart.
“Quite normal,” Eleanor replied gracefully. “Do you not remember my own wedding? I was a jittering mess! You had to calm me down.”
“But you loved him,” Marion protested. “It was quite different.”
Eleanor shook her head. “All weddings are magical, Marion, and you look magical.”
Marion did not feel magical. She felt like a nervous wreck in a dress that was far too fine for a simple girl like her. Eleanor had outdone herself in ordering the most exquisite cream lace and satin gown for Marion, embroidered on the skirt and bodice with trailing green leaves, but Marion couldn’t help but feel like a fraud inside it.
“Are you sure it is alright?” she begged Eleanor, smoothing the fabric of the bodice for the millionth time and fiddling with her mother’s pearls around her neck to comfort herself.
