A. Michael - Nice Day For A White Wedding

‘– that you hate surprises, you really dislike being out of control and that you’re going to bear it as best you can because you love me?’

Chelsea pursed her lip, said ‘Exactly’ and took a massive bite of her croissant so she didn’t have to seem like a selfish control freak.

The day was perfectly lovely, and Kit had spared no amount of thought or expense. He’d booked a town car to the airport, which felt as luxurious as it was unnecessary.

When they got to the airport he paused in front of the check in gates.

‘All right, so I assumed by this point you’d have to know so we could check in.’ Kit shrugged boyishly, his 6’4” frame somehow unsuited to it. ‘So I’ve given you some clues.’

‘Beyond what’s up on the departures board?’ Chelsea teased, getting into the game.

‘Well, if you want to sit here and guess for half an hour, but I thought you’d want to get through the gate to have a boozy lunch in the departures lounge.’

Chelsea’s eyes widened. ‘Okay, I’ll play.’

‘You’ve never been to this place before.’

That’s not hard, Chelsea thought to herself sadly, looking at the board. She’d been to Paris, Barcelona and Rome, all with Kit. She’d been to Iceland with a friend from uni, and LA for work. She was hardly well travelled.

‘I’m gonna need another clue.’

Kit grinned at her, apparently unaware of all the other travellers walking around them to look at the departures board. ‘The most romantic city on earth.’

‘Paris?’

‘It only thinks it’s the most romantic city.’

‘Well, thanks for correcting it,’ Chelsea rolled her eyes.

‘You said you wanted to go here almost two years ago when we were talking about bucket lists and you said that you’d never trust –’

‘– something that had a public transport system dependent on water.’ Chelsea looked up at him in amazement. ‘You remember that?’

‘I always remember those tidbits about your life,’ he replied.

‘We’re going to Venice?’ Chelsea whispered, a smiled already on her face and he nodded, grinning.

‘That’s amazing!’ she laughed, throwing her arms around him, breathing him in.

‘I thought you might say that!’

‘You, Mr Christopher…you’re just a bit wonderful you know.’

‘That’s the idea, Miss Donovan.’ Chelsea’s smile held, just a little tight at the mention of her surname as he kissed her softly. The only surname he’d ever known her with, the one she’d changed as soon as she left uni, ready for a new start separate from the father in and out of prison again and again.

She held him a little closer. ‘You really are too good for me, you know.’

It felt too intimate to be throwing around those truthful words in an airport terminal. The one time she’d expressed the exact fear, the exact love she felt.

‘Sweetheart, if you knew all the ways in which you’d saved me, you’d never even think of saying that.’ He swept a piece of hair back from her face. ‘Before you, I was an arsehole. As cheesy as it is, you’ve made me a better man.’

Chelsea snorted, raising an eyebrow. ‘Well, stop improving. I can’t imagine you being any more of an angel than you are now.’

‘Then let’s hurry up and get to that kingsize bed in the hotel on the Grand Canal so I can prove you wrong.’ His blue eyes gleamed and Chelsea grinned, kissing him.

‘Sorry bub, you’re always going to be a Prince Charming, no matter how much you want to play the bad boy. Some guys are just made that way.’

She took his hand and they walked through the terminal, him taking her bag from her without a word.

‘See?’

‘You want me to stop doing all the stuff I do automatically, because it’s too nice?’ Kit laughed, head tilted as he waited for her answer.

‘No, what am I, fourteen? Bad boys have nothing on the nice guy.’ She kissed his cheek, wondering how on earth she had managed that perfect transition, from the angry girl with nothing to the one who had it all.

***

‘What happened?’ Ruby’s eyes had this way of glowering.

‘It’s nothing. I gave as good as I got.’ Chelsea stood, hand on hip as Ruby seemed to suddenly take up the doorframe. ‘You coming in or what?’

‘You’re letting the cold in! Shut the fucking door!’ her mum’s voice called from the living room over the sound of the TV blaring.

Chelsea rolled her eyes, winced, and gestured for her friend to enter. She slammed the door loudly and pounded up the stairs, Ruby following her silently.

‘So?’

Ruby closed the door behind her and leant on it, as if afraid that her friend would make a run for it. Instead, Chelsea sat in front of the mirror, gently daubing at the angry purple bruise forming around her eye, ugly and angry.

She shrugged, eyes still on the bruise. ‘Tina Davies said something about my mum, so I started something.’

‘Naaah,’ Ruby made a buzzer noise, ‘try again.’

‘Tina Davies was trying to get Johnny so I decked her.’

Ruby rolled her eyes. ‘Chels, come on. You’re not even trying to sound convincing.’

Chelsea looked past her in the mirror. ‘One of mum’s fellas was drinking in the kitchen when I came down for water at 3am. Apparently Mum hadn’t worn him out.’

Ruby shot across the room to her, reaching for her shoulder.

‘Don’t crowd me, and don’t feel sorry for me.’ Chelsea’s lips were a thin line, and she refused to make eye contact, simply looking at her own reflection, the tightly pulled back blonde hair making the purple of her skin look even more painful. She loosened the ponytail and fluffed the hair around her face, covering her cheekbone on one side.

‘This is concern, bitch.’ Ruby’s voice was stone. ‘That’s what’s happening here. Look at me.’

Chelsea could feel the fight in her friend, and she couldn’t decide whether to stay mad and aloof, or crumple and let herself be comforted. She set her jaw as she turned around.

‘Don’t you dare feel sorry for me.’

‘I don’t,’ Ruby said, ‘doesn’t mean I can’t be angry for you.’ Ruby’s eyes seemed to be hollowing her out, trying to hypnotise her. ‘Did he –’

‘No,’ Chelsea shook her head, ‘I stopped him.’

‘Hit him over the head with a bottle or something?’

‘Didn’t need to.’ Chelsea laughed hollowly. ‘The bastard tried to stick his tongue down my throat so I bit down. Hard.’ She started to giggle, a little manic, eyes blinking rapidly. ‘I bit off the fucking tip of his tongue! He ran out of there screaming!’

Ruby watched as Chelsea collapsed into giggles, holding her stomach, wheezing as she tried to breathe. Somehow the shaky gasps became sobs, tears rushing down her cheeks and Ruby collapsed onto the floor next to her.

‘You know what the worst part was?’ Chelsea hiccuped, not thinking about where his hands had been or how dark his eyes were, breathing deeply and slowly until she felt calmer.

‘Almost swallowing a bit of someone’s tongue?’ Ruby made a silly face and Chelsea snorted.

‘No. It was my mum. Once I told her what happened she said, “You can never stop competing can you? You want to take everything I have”.’

Ruby’s eyes darkened and her fingernails dug into Chelsea’s arm. ‘Bitch.’

Chelsea shrugged. ‘That’s Carly.’

‘What’s Ty say?’

‘He doesn’t know what’s going on, I just said I got drunk and walked into something,’ Chelsea shrugged. ‘The old bag next door heard me scream though, keeps looking at me in horror and giving me all her fags. It’d be sad if it weren’t so funny.’