Of course, I would never tell anyone the real reason why I did it, but at least marrying him meant there was never any possibility of me getting hurt.
But marrying Ivan?
I could see nothing but confusing and painful problems ahead. I was also conscious that it was all moving too fast. Too intense. Too crazy. It was all right for him because his heart was
not in it. I was just fun and sex to him. A temporary fling while he fulfilled a promise to his dying stepfather. I, on the other hand, was already hopelessly in love with him. To solve
one problem, I had allowed myself to be persuaded into a solution that would almost undoubtedly cause me to end up heartbroken.
Ivan dropped me off at the apartment and went to a friend’s house. He would get ready there and meet me at the registry office. Angela was going to come to the apartment and we were both
supposed to be together at the registry. Ivan had planned it so I would only have ten minutes to myself before the hairdresser came around at twelve.
As soon as he arrived he did not even want a quick coffee. I offered him champagne.
‘Well,’ he said with a grin. So we opened a bottle. ‘This is nice,’ he said as we settled on an armchair by the window.
Sipping champagne, he set about putting my hair up into a complicated twist-plait hairstyle with delicate seed pearl pins in it. He was very chatty and a balm for my frayed nerves. Or
maybe it was the champagne at midday.
When he finished we were both a little tipsy, and he seemed extraordinarily pleased with his creation. I had to admit it looked the business.
After he left I pulled on sheer nude tights and dressed in my new cream two-piece St. Laurent suit and matching cream shoes. I carefully applied my make-up and went to stand in front of
the mirror. Well …
I looked the part.
A widow marrying for the second time.
I was a believable gold digger striking it rich the second time around.
Hello magazine would be there because Ivan said he could think of no better way to spread the news. In return for exclusivity they promised that all the photos would belong to us, and
Ivan would have the last say as to what they printed and which photos were used in their spread.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror and suddenly felt tearful. When I was a young girl I used to dream of a white wedding. A happy, giggly occasion. With my mother, my grandparents,
my relatives, all my friends, bridesmaids in matching outfits, cute little flower girls, and a wonderful man who loved me with all his heart.
But here I was. In Ivan’s flat getting ready on my own to marry a man who did not love me. The future stretched out strange and foreign.
I blinked hard.
It’s OK, Tawny. Maybe one day he will come to care for you. Or most probably he never will, but you’ll survive. You overcame everything else and you will again.
I walked to the middle of my room. So many things were up in the air. I didn’t even know if after today I would be officially moving into Ivan’s bedroom. The doorbell rang and I quickly
went to the door. It was Angela.
‘Oh, Tawny. You look beautiful,’ she said with a catch in her voice as soon as I opened the door.
‘Thank you,’ I replied automatically. I felt quite light-headed as I closed the door and turned towards her. ‘The driver should be here soon.’
‘Good, because I wanted to say something to you before he comes,’ Angela said quickly.
‘OK.’
She took a deep breath. ‘I just wanted to say that I realize it’s really soon after Robert that you’re marrying Ivan, but I think it’s right.’
I gave a short surprised laugh. ‘You’ve never even met Ivan.’
She bit her bottom lip. ‘I know, but once Robert said to me that Ivan was the man he would have chosen for you.’
‘What?’ I exploded.
She put both her hands up, palms facing me. ‘He didn’t say it in a bad way. He just meant that in an ideal world Ivan would be the perfect husband for you.’
I walked to the wall and leaned against it. ‘Why did he never tell me that?’ I whispered.
‘Look, I’m sorry. I should never have said anything. I feel as if I’ve ruined everything.’
I put my hand to my forehead. Oh Robert. Have you done something behind my back?
‘I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil your wedding day. I’m just stupid. I thought you’d want to know that Robert wouldn’t mind,’ Angela said.
I took a deep breath. ‘It’s OK, Angela. You haven’t spoiled anything. I’m glad you told me. I’m just like a cat on a hot tin roof at the moment.’