Authors: Alice Severin
Tristan, as ever, was unflappable. “Andrew. Nice to meet you. Any friend of Nick’s
is a friend of mine,” he laughed. “Nick and Sarah are nice enough to let us stay here
for the big event.”
I shook his hand too, and Andrew leaned down for a quick peck on the cheek, friendly.
“Happy to meet you.” I didn’t realize I was examining him until Andrew looked quizzically
at me. “Or again. You look so familiar. Did we meet on that dreadful Thames boat cruise
for Nick’s work do? The one where they ran out of drink, and there was a staged mutiny
to make them end it early?”
Andrew laughed. “Oh god, that nightmare. What a laugh that was. We threatened the
captain with everything we could think of, including all jumping off into the Thames
at once. On only one side of the boat.” He let out a loud laugh and peered at me again.
“Ah right, Lily. That Lily. Of course.”
I could feel Tristan tensing up, even at a distance. I looked over to him, but he
was already getting up. “That Lily. Yes, absolutely. The one and only. Well, nice
to meet you. We’ve got to go get ready ourselves.” I said some pleasantries to Andrew
about the weather, then went over to Tristan. He was now standing by the sink, with
his tea mug in his hand, asking Nick if he needed any help. Nick glanced up at me,
then away, then back to Tristan. “No, no, you two go on. The cars will be here in
two hours. That’s enough time, isn’t it?” He gave a wave to Andrew who was unzipping
his suit bag. He turned to me and gave me a big hug. “Lily, I’m terrified. She loves
me, right?”
I hugged him back. He really was nervous if he was actually touching people. It struck
me that it was the first time we’d really made contact since the breakup, so many
years ago. I patted him on the back. “You’re finally making an honest woman of her.
She’ll only love you more. Once you get through this and don’t tread on her dress,
that is.” He looked stricken. “It’s just nerves. You’ll both be fine. It’s a big day.”
He looked pale. “You’re doing the best thing. You’re the right kind of nervous.” I
took Tristan’s hand. “Now we’ve got to get ready. Thank god Sarah picked a simple
dress, otherwise I’d make you late.” Now Nick looked somewhat sick to his stomach.
“Kidding! You’ll be fine. It’s all good. If you need us, we will be upstairs.”
Nick managed to recover enough to wink at me. “I wouldn’t want to catch you…I mean
disturb you.”
“Nick! On your wedding day? Aren’t there laws against that kind of thing?”
And just like that, Nick was back to his old self, all hint of emotion banished. “All
the more likely you’ll be breaking them, my darling Lily. Now shoo. Andrew here is
an old hand at this and has promised me between his sartorial skills and his flask,
he’ll get me through this.”
Behind me, Andrew laughed. “Got it right here. Never too early. Dutch courage, isn’t
that right?”
I gave Nick a kiss on the cheek. “She’s a lucky woman. Good luck today, Nick. I mean
it. I’m glad the two of you found each other…for real.”
“Thanks Lily.” He shook hands with Tristan, who was a looming presence at my side.
“Tristan. Thanks for being here.”
“Good luck mate.” He put his arm around me, and we headed to the narrow staircase
leading to the upstairs.
I stopped at the bathroom again. “I’m just going to splash water on my face. I’ll
be there in a minute.”
“I’ll come get you if you take too long.” Tristan grinned. “It’s showtime.”
A few minutes later, I was going up the stairs to the very top of the house. “I’m
washed and pressed, ready to get dressed,” I sang out as I opened the door to the
little attic room that Tristan and I were in. Tristan was resting on the bed, completely
naked except for a pair of black briefs that just grazed the tops of his hip bones.
The rest left little to the imagination. It wasn’t only the inky black color of the
soft fabric clinging to every turn, each shape, every line, until you weren’t sure
if it all was responding under your gaze, or if it was pulsing ever so slightly with
each breath he took, every vein in his body swelling and rising on every heartbeat,
it was the way he inhabited his body, so casually, as if he were unaware of the effect
he could have. I pulled my gaze away and followed the graceful sweep of his long legs,
crossed at the ankle. His wrists were crossed just above his head, and his eyes were
closed. It looked as though he were declaring himself, and his wants, simply waiting
for someone to make what he wished for come true. Tristan breathed in deeply, and
the smooth expanse of his torso rose and fell, the muscles stretching over his ribs,
all flexing under his silken and pale skin.
I didn’t want to break the moment. I wanted to stand there and look at him, a living
portrait, one that told me all I wanted to know about what I needed and where my boundaries
were on this earth. I watched his stomach rise and fall, his breathing steady. I needed
to disturb him though if we were to be on time. I was tempted to blow the whole thing
off. We would just stay here all morning, watch the sun move across the wall if we
weren’t watching each other, until evening came. We couldn’t.
“Tristan,” I whispered. “We should get dressed now.” I watched as a slight smile spread
across his perfect mouth, making me wonder if he had been asleep at all, or if he
had known the whole time that I was there watching him. My bet was on his constant
watchfulness. His eyes slowly opened, and he looked at me.
“No.”
I stared back at him. Were we going to stay here, miss the wedding? I wondered for
a moment what I would do if he wanted to. Would I miss my friend’s wedding? “No?”
I asked.
“I don’t want to see you dressed. Yet. Or you me. It should be a surprise. An unveiling.
Something special.” Tristan’s voice was low and deep, halfway between a command and
plea.
“All right,” I said hesitantly, “but I thought that was just for the bride and groom.”
He laughed. “And why not us?” He rose from the bed slowly, and finally came and stood
next to me. I wondered if I would ever stop being slightly breathless from finding
him at my side, tall and solid, an undeniable presence. I watched him adjust his underwear
slightly, then he playfully cupped himself in front and gave himself a slight squeeze.
“Like what you see?” He winked at me. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring my suit and all that
to the living room.” He bent down and his lips touched mine, gentle but the weight
of the restraint behind it was apparent. I shut my eyes. “Ah, no. Good friends go
to each other’s weddings.” He winked again. “See you down there in a bit.”
Tristan shut the door carefully behind him, and I sat down on the bed heavily. It
was still warm from his body, and I wished that he were back here, his arms around
me, telling me it would all be fine. It was all going to be fine. The dress was hanging
in its bag, on a hook on the wall, my shoes under it. We were going to go to Sarah’s
wedding, it would be nice, and no matter what, in several hours, it would all be over
anyway. The supposedly biggest day of her life, and for us, a nice party and a way
of sharing her happiness, or at least being part of the experience. I took off my
t-shirt and yoga pants, and began the slow transformation from normal me to special
party me. Special wedding me. Tristan hadn’t wanted us to see each other until we
were ready. Everything about the day felt weighty and symbolic, from his crossed wrists
and exposed flesh, to the dress, to just being here. I put on my bra and panties,
La Perla, a gift from Tristan that he had sworn faithfully not to rip, cream champagne
lace, delicate and silken against my skin. I walked over to the window for a last
look at the garden before I put on the dress. I knew I’d feel anxious the minute I
had it on. The garden was deserted now, the green leaves still bright in the lengthening
late summer sunlight, gentler now, though still carrying the remnants of bright blue
sky clarity.
I unzipped the bag carefully and extracted the dress. It was beautiful—a simple cream-colored
dress in a floating crinkle chiffon. The hem was uneven, shorter in front then dropping
delicately to nearly floor length at the back. The waist was lightly cinched. It looked
like something a Greek goddess might wear. I hoped I could pull it off. It had looked
nice in the fitting room, and I was very grateful that Sarah hadn’t insisted on matching
satin bridesmaids’ dresses. I lifted it over my head and it slunk down my body like
water, the silk lining sliding over my skin, as the heavier chiffon followed. It still
smelled of store, and tissue paper and boxes, and reminded me of the happier moments
of my childhood, when new clothes appeared, and I could barely dare to wear them,
they were so perfect and beautiful. It fell to the ground, weighted slightly to give
the dress drift and body. I looked at myself in the mirror. It was beautiful. I hoped
he thought so. I shut my eyes. I really wanted him to.
* * *
Tristan disappeared into the kitchen when I came downstairs. He had decided to ride
to the church with Nick and Andrew. “Your car is here, Lily. You’ll go first.” Nick
said, pretending to cover his eyes, while Andrew snickered at us.
Then Nick was smiling. “You look beautiful, Lily. Really.”
“Thank you.” I waved at them. “Don’t get lost.”
The two of them shook their heads, chuckling. I thought I heard a distant laugh from
the kitchen. “Promise,” said Nick. “Enjoy your time of solitude. Off you go.”
And I went out to the car, getting in carefully, trying not to catch the long hem
of my dress of the door. The driver shut the door behind me, and got in behind the
wheel. “Congratulations miss. You look fine.”
I started to say, no, it wasn’t me, but I decided it was too complicated. “Thank you,
you’re very kind,” was all I said. We pulled out, leaving me with my thoughts, and
a vague worry about the car behind us. I tried to watch the scenery going by. Everything
was so familiar. Once again, I wondered if I could imagine the entire trip to the
edges of London in my head. I felt like I even knew where the traffic cameras were.
We were heading out on the A40, and had passed the old Hoover building, before I finally
closed my eyes. It was just a car trip. I opened the window. I felt a bit dizzy, but
resisted the urge to ask the driver to either stop or turn around. It would all be
fine. A song went through my head, and I let it play out, then wriggled, thinking
suddenly I was creasing the dress. “Vain,” I said to myself. Then I went back to the
song, and tried to watch the road go by.
We finally arrived at the church. There hadn’t been too much traffic. Even so, it
had taken nearly two hours, but we weren’t late. Sarah had timed and arranged everything,
and knew exactly how long the journey could be, and budgeted for that. So when I emerged
from the car, the song still playing in my head, I felt calmer at least, knowing I
had time to catch my breath. And it was a lovely place. The leaves not as green as
in the height of the summer, but still hanging on, maybe even more beautiful, rich
and lush, all too aware of the autumn nudging at them from around the corner. The
air out here was cleaner too. I breathed it in, listening to the birdsong. I felt
slightly detached from the small crowd that was gathering now in front of the church,
heading in by twos, very neatly. I stood there and watched them.
I jumped when a hand rested gently on my shoulder. I spun around, movements naturally
slowed down by the dress. You couldn’t move very fast in a Greek goddess ensemble,
I discovered.
The very tall man in front of me was smiling at me, almost gently. “Lily. You look
absolutely magnificent. Ravishing. No. You look simply beautiful, which you are.”
Then as if he couldn’t resist, “Well done you.”
His suit fit him perfectly, just cut differently enough to make it clear that he wasn’t
quite like the rest. “Trevor. Thank you. You look fairly spectacular yourself. Nice
suit,” I nodded.
He leaned down to hug and kiss me carefully. “That designer,” he said, moving back
to appraise me again. “Your L.A. party was a huge success. He might even outfit the
tour. But let’s not talk shop. Where’s Tristan?”
“He decided to ride with the bridegroom. Something about not wanting to see me yet.”
Trevor’s small smile creased a bit more of his angular face. “He is a romantic, under
it all.” He waved his hand as though to take away the words. “But here we are. Shall
we wait together for him? I don’t believe we are sitting together in the church, so
we can chat.” He raised my hand and did a small dance step away from me. “Or we can
just run off together. You do look stunning, Lily. That style suits you perfectly.
Come over here, on this little rise.” He took my hand and started to lead me a few
paces over to a slight rise in the terrain, capped with a tree and some purple salvia.
“Unless your shoes won’t do grass?”
“No, it’s fine,” I said, stepping carefully next to him, my dress in my hand.
We stood there, chatting idly about London, the nice weather, and wondering what Sarah’s
dress would look like, when another car pulled up. I could hear doors shutting, then
a slight gasp. Someone squealed and I knew it was him.
“Fangirling at someone’s wedding. Imagine.” I laughed. “Should I hide behind you?”
I asked Trevor, playfully.
“Lily. No. But turn away. Here, let’s move over here.” And we walked a few yards further
into the grounds surrounding the church. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
I saw Trevor raise his hand and wave. I stared at the stitching on his suit jacket,
feeling my heart beat. My stomach felt hollow. I shook my head. Silly.
Trevor leant down to me. “You can turn around now.”
And I did as I was instructed, turning very slowly. And there he was. Tristan looked
magnificent, a halo of light behind his head from the afternoon sun, his dark suit
making his tall figure seem like a dark slash against the green and gold background
of the churchyard. But his face was caught in a smile, a look of delight that contrasted
with his intense stare. He walked the five steps to me, never taking his eyes from
mine. “Lily.” He took my hands in his and raised them to his mouth. “Lily. Beautiful
woman.” He kissed them, then held them out to admire the dress. His eyes went back
to mine, and he pressed my hands to his heart. “I’m…” he trailed off. He grinned.
“I seem to be speechless.”