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‘Lovely to meet you too, Josh.’ She met his eyes as he took her hand in his, his skin warm against hers. A series of beeps from her pocket broke the silence between them and she let go, his hand dropping to his side as she reached into her pocket. ‘Sorry.’
‘No worries.’ Turning, he looked out across the ocean as she quicklyread the messages.
What time are you all getting there? Trying to plan our journey. Liz x
To the hotel, I mean. Not the wedding! :) Liz x
We’re aiming for about two, so we have a few hours to get ready before the pre-wedding dinner. Sam xxx
Tammy swallowed. Her friends and old colleagues were already planning when to arrive in Edinburgh for Andrew’s wedding. Was this what it was going to be like? A week full of messages about her ex’s wedding? Reaching up, she pinched the bridge of her nose, the tiny words on her phone screen dancing together as she felt tears prick the back of her eyes.
‘Bad news?’
‘Sorry?’ Looking up, Tammy frowned. She’d almost forgotten he was still standing there.
‘The phone?’ He nodded towards her mobile. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.’
‘No, it’s not bad news. Not really.’ Not really? Where had that come from? She cleared her throat. ‘It’s not bad news. It’s very good news. Just not particularly relevant to me.’
Nodding slowly, Josh frowned. ‘I see.’
Her phone pinged again. Another message. Tammy glanced behind her, back towards the concrete steps. ‘I should be going.’
‘Of course. Well, I hope we run into each other again.’ Josh raised his hand.
‘Yes, yes. Bye.’ She gripped her mobile as yet another message came through. She knew she should just leave the group. Or mute it until after the wedding. Could she do that? She was sure that was a thing. But there was a part of her who wanted to know what was going on. Part of her which wanted to experience Andrew’s big day, even if it was through their mutual friends’ messages.
Perching on the bench opposite the café, she laid her half-eaten baguette next to her and turned her attention back to her phone. Judging by the tone of the messages, they were all excited. And it sounded as though they were all staying in Edinburgh the night before the wedding, too.
She balanced her mobile on the knee of her jeans before turning and picking up her baguette again. Pulling the paper sleeve down a little, she took a bite. She should be happy for him. For Andrew and for Jennifer. They were both good people. Andrew had been kind to her, before and during their relationship. Even afterwards. Yes, him being her boss at the garden centre she’d worked at hadn’t been ideal. Things had been tense. Everyone had noticed, but he hadn’t been unkind. He hadn’t put her on eternal late shifts or anything.
She shifted on the hard wooden bench beneath her. Yes, there was an argument that he’d chosen her to be in the first round of redundancies, but he’d had to choose some people to be after the news of the company going under had broken. And she couldn’t blame him for putting her in that group. Not really. He’d had Jennifer to think about by then. Seeing Tammy at work every day must have been as difficult for Jennifer as it had for Tammy.
No, it was the gnawing in the pit of her stomach, the little niggle of doubt tugging at the corners of her mind which was making her feel uncomfortable being a part of all the wedding chat. Even just being on the edge of it as she was, a spectator to the messages. The reminder was there - she wasn’t good enough. She hadn’t been good enough for Andrew. Even after four years of them dating, and living together for three, she hadn’t been good enough for him to propose to. And yet, Jennifer had been. After five months of them being together, he’d proposed and now, three months after that, they were getting married. Jennifer was good enough. More than good enough.
And so had Beatrice. She’d been good enough for Jack to propose to a year into their relationship. He’d dated Tammy for two. And Phil before that. Again, he’d got engaged and subsequently married the woman he’d met on the first date he’d gone on after finishing with Tammy.
It was her. It had to be. The problem lay with her. With Tammy. She was the one who wasn’t good enough. Or was she just not marriage material? Did the men she’d dated see her as ‘fun’, good-enough-for-now, or simply the better alternative to being single?
She crunched up the now-empty baguette wrapper and threw it in the bin next to the bench. However men perceived her it didn’t matter now. That was it, she would no longer be a stepping-stone to marriage. No, she’d much rather never fall in love again than subject her heart to that once more.
Glancing at her phone, she turned it to silent; the screen illuminating with every new message, before tucking it into her pocket and standing up.
