Three weeks had passed since Lisa and I reached the momentous decision to call time on our eight-year relationship. Yet to sink in fully, particular as we were still sharing the flat, neither of us had the inclination to seek alternative accommodation. That lethargy was, I'm afraid to say, pretty much indicative of our relationship latterly. It was easier for me to move into the spare room than to move on.
It was odd how things changed almost overnight, from intimate couple to virtual strangers. Though, in all fairness, the once rock solid union had been going off the rails for a year or so. Our sex life in the first seven months of 2005 could be summarised as three limp-dicked efforts from me versus a trio of lay-back-and-think-of-England efforts from Lisa. The sad truth was we'd grown apart in more ways than one.
"I take it you're still planning on going to this wedding," Lisa said one morning, glancing at the calendar in the kitchen, our first meaningful words for days.
With all that had gone on in the past month, it had totally slipped my mind that cousin Jane was getting married that coming weekend. Obviously Lisa and I were supposed to be going as a couple. "You will still come, won't you?" I enquired.
Lisa screwed up those pretty and petite features that some day soon another guy would come to appreciate as much as I had over the years. In many ways I stilled loved her, just not in the right way. Though if I met her now for the very first time I'm sure I'd still fall in love her again. In fact, from an external perspective she looked as good now as during our university days, those gorgeous hazel eyes always so expressive and those bouncy brunette locks playfully caressing each shoulder. The trouble was, eight years of living in each other's pockets had taken its toll and here was nowhere left for the relationship to go. Nonetheless, I wanted our last date to be as memorable as the first.
"Please Lisa," I implored. "You always got on so well with my family."
That was indisputable, some of the holidays and Christmas breaks we'd spent together were up there among my fondest memories. Lisa's family, on the other hand, was all split and distant, the few gatherings they'd thrown on a par with a visit to the dentist. It was as if my family had adopted Lisa as one of their own. She was always guaranteed a warm welcome.
My grandparents were loaded, with a great big estate in the south west that would be playing host to cousin Jane's forthcoming nuptials. Doubtless with a massive marquee on the lawn, a banquet that could feed half of England and entertainment throughout the night, we could be sure of a major event.
"Hmm, I'll think about it, okay."
"It'll probably be the last time you get to see them," I fired, immediately biting my tongue.
"Don't blackmail me, Gary," she shot back. "I said I'd think about it, okay."
Trying to inject some much needed humour I added: "At least this time we won't object when gran makes us sleep in separate rooms."
Lisa strained to stifle a giggle, recalling as did I the lengths we'd gone to β akin to some POW tunnelling exercise β to enjoy a little stolen passion at gran's during past visits, before her face returned to the sour expression I'd become accustomed to lately. "I'll think about it," she repeated, before heading off to work.
* * *
Thursday arrived as we dodged around each other in some elaborate early morning pantomime, getting ready for work. As she headed for the door, Lisa turned. I hadn't once mentioned the wedding since Monday and that must have swayed her decision. "Okay Gary, I'll come to the wedding β for old time's sake," she confirmed.
My face lit up like Christmas Day. Don't get me wrong, I knew things were over between us. Indeed, no amount of effort was going to bring us back together, and frankly I was glad it had come to an end when it did. No, my intentions were perhaps even more selfish. I wanted a good time and I wanted to show Lisa what she was walking away from.
Thursday rushed by, the plan being to head straight home and in the car. The Friday could then be spent chilling while the others ran around like headless chickens organising things for Saturday. I was looking forward to getting away from London.
The 300-mile journey passed in silence β I suspected Lisa may have been having second thoughts β and it was dark when finally we arrived. Greeted at the door by a rosy faced, white-haired gran who always had a sloppy kiss for her favourite grandson, a hug for Lisa was followed by the inevitable: "It'll be you two down the aisle next."