If there’s one thing I know, it’s movies. I have watched a lot of movies in my 31 years.
When I was three years old, I had chicken pox. Apparently, the only way my mum could get me to sit still and stop scratching, was to put on the movie Tom Thumb – the 1958 version. I’d watch it again and again, and then, as I grew older, my love of movies only grew stronger.
As a student, studying media from the age of 14 until I graduated at 21, I had to watch a lot of movies over the years.
Finally, as a single adult with subscriptions to Sky, Amazon and Netflix, I fill my empty nights with movie after movie. So, I think it’s safe to say, I’ve seen more than your average person.
The point I’m trying to make is that, I’ve seen a lot of fictional weddings take place. In movies, it always kicks off at weddings, but people don’t usually make a scene in real life, do they? God, I hope they don’t. Because in all of the weddings I’ve watched on screen, when things kick off, they kick off.
The chances of this wedding playing out normally (well, as normally as it can with this guest list) will be greatly increased if I can find Ed and stop him from saying something stupid, or at least warn Fi about what he’s saying, so she can be ready for it. I suppose there’s a small chance that it might not be true. That Ed might just be drunk and rambling, or he might have made a mistake at the time. There’s no sense in everyone falling out and creating a bad atmosphere at Matt’s wedding because of a decade-old misunderstanding.
I scan the bar for Ed, Fi – anyone really. I notice Pete chatting with a couple of men at the side of the room. When I catch his eye, he runs over to me.
‘Luca, are you OK? I’ve been looking everywhere for you since I saw you fall.’
‘I’m fine,’ I say. ‘Just a cut. Have you seen any of my friends?
‘I haven’t, sorry,’ he replies. ‘Listen, you’ve done enough today. Isn’t it about time you relaxed?’
‘Oh, it’s impossible for me to relax at this wedding,’ I tell him, not that he could even begin to imagine the full extent of why.
Pete places his hands on my shoulders and gives me a soothing smile.
‘We need to get you out of here,’ he says. ‘Why don’t we bail, go watch some trash TV in my room – we have fully stocked mini bars upstairs, I’ve heard a rumour that the smaller rooms don’t have them. We can relax, talk more about jobs and futures …’
‘God, that sounds good,’ I tell him. ‘But I need to find my friends first, avert a crisis.’
‘Luca, there you are,’ I hear Tom’s voice behind me. He grabs me and he hugs me tighter than I think I’ve ever been hugged before. ‘Are you OK?’
Tom loosens his grip on me, just enough to hold me at arm’s length, to look over my injuries.
‘I’m fine, thank you’ I say. ‘It’s just a cut.’
For a second, I wonder if this is genuine concern, or because he doesn’t like to see me talking to Pete, but I get mad at myself for questioning his intentions like that.
Tom takes a thumb and brushes my cheek gently, just under my cut.
‘It looks sore,’ he says. ‘What did Ed say?’
Ed said way too much.
‘He says I’ll be fine,’ I tell him. ‘It shouldn’t leave a scar. It’s just a glorified scratch, really.’
Pete clears his throat. I’d kind of forgotten he was standing there and I feel bad for making him feel like a third wheel. It’s so easy to get caught up in the attention Tom gives everyone he talks to. He truly makes you feel like the most important thing in the world and – especially at times when you need it – it is such a huge comfort. I can’t let myself get caught up in it though, because tomorrow he’ll go home with Cleo, and in a few months they’ll have a child together. I am almost certain I can’t compete with that, but I am absolutely certain I shouldn’t try. I can’t do another second of this, I need to move on with my life.
I turn to Pete.
‘Pete, everything you said before – that sounds great.’
‘Well, OK,’ he replies with a big grin. ‘Room 312. I’ll see you there after you find your friends?’
‘See you there,’ I tell him.
Tom waits for Pete to walk off before he says anything.
‘What’s that all about?’ he asks, sounding just a little bit annoyed.
‘That is nothing to do with you,’ I tell him. ‘I’ve got to go.’
Tom gently takes me by the arm, to stop me walking away. It occurs to me, to call Fi, but I’ve left my phone in my bag in the office.
‘What?’ I ask him. ‘What do you want? What do you want from me?’
‘You’re going to his room? You just met him.’
‘I literally knew you for years,’ I tell him. ‘Doesn’t always work out though, does it?’
‘Tell me you’re not feeling something between us today and I’ll leave you alone,’ he replies.
‘I don’t have time for this, I need to find Fi.’
‘I’ve seen her. I’ll tell you where, if you just answer me,’ he practically begs.
‘Tom.’ I look him in the eye and muster up as much faux confidence as I can. ‘Whatever you’re feeling between us – it’s entirely one-sided. After the way you treated me when we were younger, I’ll never, ever trust you again. OK?’
In the five seconds before Tom says anything, I watch my words wound him and I feel sick with myself. The truth is, of course I’ve felt something between us today. I’ve felt something between us since that first conversation I had with him in my bedroom all those years ago. But it is true that I don’t trust him. And without trust, what have you got?
‘I saw her arguing with Zach outside,’ he tells me. ‘By the pop-up photo booth and the sweet cart.’
Perhaps the greatest tragedy of all today is that I am only just learning about the sweet cart. Maybe I’ll raid it after I sort out this mess, before I go to meet Pete.
‘Thank you,’ I tell him. ‘Now go find the girlfriend you chose over me all those years ago, and make things right with her. You made your bed, Tom. It’s too late now, you’ve got to sleep in it.’
‘Luca,’ he calls after me as I head for the door, but I ignore him. It breaks my heart to do it, but what else can I do? I can’t get in the way of him getting back with his pregnant girlfriend, even if I’d like to. Before, when he said they had split up, it sounded like he had no interest in being there for his kid, and I don’t know if that was true or for my benefit, but either way, it’s awful. If he and Cleo are trying to reconcile, I cannot get in the way of that. I have to remove myself from the equation, and perhaps moving to London is the best way to do it.