It had been ten years.
Surely, it would be nothing. But Faye hesitated, anyway. Why, oh why, did Steph had to invite him?
After the makeup sex all those years ago, Faye and Tristan had dated for three years. They were good years. For the first time in a long time, she had had a healthy relationship.
They'd spent nights by the river, watching the lights. Settled into cosy dinner routines at his apartment, his pug Kitty curled up at their feet. She had moved in, even, left her clothes at his place, a spare mini toothbrush in his mug, her pear-scented shampoo.
But three years in, things changed. Not all at once, but bit by bit. Tristan began staying out longer, bringing work home. And at the same time, Faye found herself needing more in her career.
So when the job offer came from halfway across the country, she took it. When she told Tristan about it at their favourite restaurant, he looked down at his lap for a moment before holding her gaze.
"If that's what you want," he said. "If that's what will make you happy."
They did not put up any pretense that they would try to make it work across all that distance. And even though Faye had nursed a smidgen of hope each time she got home from her job at the local paper that she would find him standing there on her step, she knew that she would not.
That she would never see him again.
Until now, that is. At her best friend's wedding.
"Why did you have to invite him, again?" Faye asked, taking a hairpin from between her lips and securing it in Steph's hair with deft precision.
"Oh come on, Faye, he's my friend too," answered Steph. "Besides he works with my Daniel. It's business."
She wore a simple lace-trimmed gown, with a bodice like one of her favourite Disney princesses. Faye couldn't remember which.
"Well, I suppose," Faye mumbled, twisting Steph's hair into a loose bun. "I guess. I wouldn't mind hooking up with him again for old time's sake."
Steph stiffened under her.
"What. What is it you're not saying?" Faye asked.
"Well, he may have mentioned bringing a... plus one," Steph said sheepishly.
"What!" Faye stepped back, mouth open. "Why didn't you tell me this before!"
"And what, what would you have done, not come??" Steph answered, tugging impatiently on her skirts.
Faye sulked through a mouthful of pins.
"Oh, Faye, it was 10 years ago. You guys had a good thing," Steph pleaded. "Besides, it's my wedding. Please just let it go this once, for me."
Faye sighed. She took her friend by the shoulders and turned her back to face the mirror.
"Just for you."
————————————
In the bathroom, Faye fished out her lipstick from her purse and looked at her reflection in the mirror.
She had grown her hair out. Not as long as when she had been with Fabian, but not as short as when she was with Tristan.
It was a good look, she thought, studying herself critically. Did she look different? Perhaps. Her skin was not as dewy as it was in her younger days. She had more lines, now, around her mouth, and eyes.
A stall door opened and a woman walked out, catching Faye's eye in the gilded mirror. Buxom, slightly shorter, a blonde with a button nose. She smiled. Faye returned the smile.
It was time to face the music, come what may. Yadda yadda. Who knew, she may not even spot him in the crowd?
Yeah, right, Faye thought to herself.
She stood outside the church, in her pale yellow maid of honour's gown. A fitted bodice, a satin skirt. For Steph, she wore buttery yellow flowers in her hair.
The room had filled with people and the organ began to play. Faye picked up her best friend's skirt and gave her an encouraging grin.
The doors swung open and she trailed behind Steph, who looked a sheer picture of bliss, as they walked down the aisle to cheers and applause.
As discreetly as she could, Faye swept the crowd with her eyes, but she did not find Tristan. Perhaps he did not make it. Perhaps he didn't want to see her.
She felt a tinge of disappointment, and a pang of sadness.
She sat in the front pew and watched her friend exchange vows with Daniel. An accountant. A reliable man. She knew the moment she met him that Daniel would look after Steph.
Who will look after me?
She brushed the thought away.
After the tears and the speeches and the video of how they had met each other, the guests began milling out into the garden for lunch.
From the front pew, Faye picked up her glass of champagne and lifted her skirt, ready to make a beeline for a safe vantage point, when a hand rested on her shoulder.
Her heart stopped.
"Faye,"
She knew before looking up that it was him. She would never forget his voice, the things he had said to her, urgently, softly, sadly.
There he stood, in a navy suit, smiling down at her, handsome as ever. A flush rose in her cheeks.
"Um, hi," Faye murmured, getting clumsily to her feet. Her mind raced. Where did he come from? Where was his plus one? Maybe he didn't have one after all? Maybe-
"Hi!" Startled, Faye looked without comprehension at the blonde from the bathroom, who turned up suddenly in her field of vision.
"What a coincidence!" Said the chirpy blonde, clutching onto Tristan's arm. "How do you know Tristan?"
Faye shot a look at him. He cleared his throat and looked down at his plus one.
"Er...Faye and I were, well we were-"
"We were friends," Faye cut in. "We worked together briefly."
Tristan looked at her in surprise. She returned the look, not knowing what had come over her.
"This is Beth," Tristan said, recovering quickly. "We met at the supermarket."
Beth gave him her brightest smile. Faye found herself squelching her toes in her peach pumps.
"Yes, and it was the best purchase I ever made!" Beth said. She turned warmly to Faye. "We've been together for three years. How about you, are you here with someone?"
Faye swallowed.
"Yes, actually. I have to go. Nice to meet you, Beth." She turned on her heel and stalked off quickly to the kitchen, losing herself in the happy crowd.
————————-
She didn't know why she'd come to the kitchen. She didn't know why she was here at all. Faye sighed.
There was a group of women she recognised from the wedding. Steph's relatives. Hurrying over in a bid for anything to distract herself, Faye asked: "What's going on?"
"Ah Faye!" Steph's aunt called. "We need help cutting the tomatoes for the salad, this cooking for a wedding thing, it's too much!"
Another aunt chimed in: "Yes, that's what I told you but noooo homecooked is the way to go, Louisa!"
Faye laughed. It gave her comfort to know that she wasn't the only one having a mess of a day.
She picked up a bowl of tomatoes from the counter, a wooden board and a knife, and found a spot at the end of the long table where the women were fussing and shouting over their ingredients.
I wonder what he's doing? Faye thought, slicing through a cherry tomato. I wonder if he loves her? She picked up another. Slice.
I wonder if he still thinks of me. Slice. I wonder why he didn't come for me, all that time. Her eyes turned sad. Slice.
"Agh!" Faye looked down. Of course, she cut herself. She lifted her finger to the light to see - she had cut off a fair bit of the fleshy pad on her index finger.
