Hopelessly Devoted To You

‘No. Absolutely not.’ Laura tutted, actually tutted and folded her arms in front of her chest. ‘You have to do it. It has to be face to face. He deserves that at least. Right. Let’s think about this. You need a plan. Work out in your mind what you’re going to say to him. When are you next seeing Finn?’

‘Tomorrow night. He’s meant to be coming round for supper.’

‘Perfect. That will be the ideal opportunity. Just get it straight in your head what you’re going to tell him and then all you have to do is come out and say it. No beating around the bush. I know it’s a horrible thing to have to do, but once it’s out there you’ll feel so much better.’

Ruby glared at Laura. It was easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one on the verge of breaking the heart of the sweetest man in the world. She was just watching from the sidelines at the train wreckage about to unfold. With a little bit too much barely contained glee, suspected Ruby.

But still, Laura was right. She had to do it. However awful it was. She should have done it much sooner than this. Absolutely. There was no getting away from it this time. No avoiding the issue. No pretending that there wasn’t a huge white wedding booked that would need to be unbooked. She would just have to tell Finn how she felt and all those other issues were just mere practicalities that she could deal with once she got the awfulness out of the way. Come what may, this time tomorrow night Ruby would no longer have a fiancé.

‘Yes, I’ll do it!’ Ruby slapped her hands down on the arms of the chair, saying the words more to herself than to Laura.

‘Well, make sure you do.’ Laura stood up, looking at Ruby with a no-messing expression on her face. ‘If you don’t do it, I’m going to boycott the wedding. I’ll stand outside the church waving a placard and you don’t want that to happen, do you?’

Ruby gave a wry smile.

‘It’ll be fine,’ Laura said sympathetically. ‘Remember I’m on your side. I’ll pop round tomorrow night. About ten o’clock. After my date. If I haven’t heard from you by then I’ll know the coast is clear.’

‘Another one?’

Laura shrugged nonchalantly.

‘Well, it’s a numbers game, isn’t it? And I reckon my lucky number must come up soon. This one’s an alternative comedian. His name’s Max. He sounds really funny and quirky and right up my street.’

‘Oh, great. Well, I hope it goes well. And I’m really sorry about tonight. Do you want me to call you tomorrow night just in case?’

‘Nah, don’t worry. You’ll have enough on your plate with Finn and if I run into problems I can always use the tummy-bug excuse, but I don’t think I will. I have a really good feeling about Max.’

‘You do? Well, I keep my fingers crossed for you.’ Ruby smiled. The excitement she felt at Laura’s enthusiasm for her next date was quickly squashed by the complete dread and trepidation she felt for her own big date with Finn. If only they could swap places, Ruby thought with a sigh.

***

The following evening the doorbell rang and Ruby’s heart plummeted to the bottom of her pumps. Ordinarily she would have worn a tight little black number with a pair of the black strappy high heels that Finn so loved, but she didn’t want his last memory of her to be one where she was looking absolutely drop-dead-gorgeous amazing. Perhaps if she looked a bit ropey, kept her make-up to a minimum, and threw on some old jeans and a sweatshirt then, sub-consciously, Finn might think it wasn’t so bad that he had just been dumped after all.

Who was she kidding? Finn wasn’t like that. He had depth, sincerity and honesty, qualities Ruby felt sadly lacking in at the moment. She knew Finn would think her beautiful dressed in a black bin liner. She didn’t intend going that far but her black trousers and a green floaty blouse would have to do. Smart but not too frivolous. And definitely not sexy.

She sighed. There were far too many decisions to be made when it came to dumping your boyfriend.

As well as what to wear, she’d thought long and hard about what she should prepare for their ‘Last Supper’. Should it be Finn’s favourite meal of lamb noisettes in a redcurrant jus or would that just be rubbing salt in the wound? Would it be better to give him some seafood? He hated fish and so did she; they could bond over the dodgy food and perhaps he wouldn’t notice he’d just been dumped. Then again she wasn’t confident about cooking fish and she didn’t want to give him food poisoning on top of a broken heart. Still, it would hardly matter. It wasn’t as if his one overriding memory of this fateful evening would be what she cooked or what she was wearing. In the end she plumped for a juicy fillet steak. What man didn’t like that? Hopefully it was relatively foolproof and good sustaining fodder to see you through any sort of unexpected emotional trauma.

Smoothing her hair away from her face, she ran along the hallway, took a deep breath and pulled open the door.

‘Finn!’

‘Hello, darling,’ he said, handing over the biggest bouquet of lilies she’d seen with one hand and presenting a bottle of pink champagne with the other. Why did he have to go and do that? Tonight of all nights. He leant down to kiss her, his hands finding her waist, a familiar waft of his lemon-scented aftershave reaching her nostrils.

She laughed and edged away from him, that now familiar sense of claustrophobia threatening to overwhelm her.

‘Flowers and champagne too? What are we celebrating?’ she asked, extracting herself from his embrace, trying to avoid his gaze, which she knew without even looking would be focused on her longingly. She wandered into the kitchen busying herself with finding a vase for the flowers.

‘Since when did we need anything to celebrate? We’re getting married in less than three months. It’s Friday night. I’m about to have a romantic meal with the woman I love. What more could one man need, exactly?’ His words were full of sweet, warm affection.

Ruby forced a laugh, feeling as though her heart might explode. She just needed to keep Laura’s words at the forefront of her mind. Don’t be distracted. Don’t bottle out. Don’t be seduced by his reassuring familiarity, however tempting it was to forget what she was supposed to be doing here tonight. She tried to look at Finn dispassionately.

Okay, he was gorgeous. Even if she was being hyper-critical, there was no getting away from that one. And tonight, annoyingly, for this momentous occasion, he was looking especially so. He was tall, well over six feet and broad and muscular, testament to the number of hours he put in at the gym. His chestnut-brown hair was cut neatly, befitting his role as a city lawyer in a top firm, but only proving to accentuate his strongly defined features and jawline.

In casually cut blue jeans, brown belt, a white crisp shirt open at the neck, brown deck shoes, he looked effortlessly stylish. Effortlessly chic. Typically Finn.

Not that he cultivated his cool good looks in any way. Finn looked exactly the way nature intended. Which just so happened to be pretty damn gorgeous.

Looking at him now, in all his glorious gorgeousness, she wondered if this would be her last remaining memory of him.

Finn was undoubtedly hot and yet she realised, with a heartfelt pang, she felt nothing for him any more, not even a trace of desire. When they first got together they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, but if she was being honest with herself she’d been missing that loving feeling for months. Nausea rose in the back of her throat and her stomach churned with anxiety. Wasn’t that proof enough that their relationship was over?

She sighed inwardly, sadness creeping around her body, knowing that she was throwing away their shared future, one they’d discussed on many occasions. One that Finn had spent the last ten years working for and would continue to work for, all so that he could provide for Ruby and the children they would inevitably have together. There’d be an apartment in the city, a big house in the country, the obligatory dogs, long summer holidays spent at their villa in Tuscany or the South of France.

And she was throwing it away for what? She had no idea. Her income from her freelance work as an illustrator was unreliable to say the least. Some weeks, most weeks, she had to work shifts as a waitress just to bring in a bit of spare cash. The sort of money she brought home wouldn’t even come close to the sort of lifestyle she knew she’d be guaranteed if she stayed with Finn.

Still, this was not the time to get distracted by what-ifs.

It wasn’t about that. Money and all those material things. It was about her inner happiness. What was right in the long term for her and Finn. Trouble was she’d spent so long with Finn she couldn’t imagine a time when he wouldn’t be in her life. But that wasn’t a valid reason enough for her to stay.

If only she loved him the same way he loved her then everything would be so much simpler. But it wasn’t going to happen. She knew that now. She’d been waiting months, no, years, for it to happen and Laura was right. If she didn’t feel it now, what made her think she would wake up the day after their wedding and suddenly find herself madly and passionately in love with Finn? She’d been a fool to think that was even a remote possibility.

‘Oh, shit!’ she cried, remembering she’d left the sauté potatoes sautéing lightly, which were now, judging by the acrid smell wafting their way, singeing nicely.

‘They’ll be fine.’ Finn came up behind her, resting his hands on her waist, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he peered over her shoulder to survey the burnt offerings in the frying pan. ‘Just scrape the black bits off.’

There he was again, invading her territory, assaulting her senses. His easy familiarity washed over her like a big warm comfort blanket. The thought of telling Finn their relationship was over hadn’t been easy to contemplate when she’d discussed it with Laura. Now, with him breathing down her neck, it seemed like an insurmountable task.

‘Do you want to pour the wine? There’s one already open in the fridge,’ she asked, feeling a heat tinge her cheeks, wondering how she would ever get through the rest of the evening. Couldn’t she just tell him now without having to go through the whole cooking dinner thing? It was like being on Hell’s Kitchen with her walking ever closer into the fire. Thinking about it, she had no idea how he would react. Would he erupt into a fiery display of emotion? She doubted it. Finn was a clear-thinking, logical lawyer, used to keeping his emotions in check.

‘Everything okay?’

‘Mmm. Yes, fine.’ Ruby flapped a tea towel in front of her face to try and rid the kitchen of the smell of burning and to fan the heat from her glowing cheeks. ‘How would you like your steak cooked?’

Finn widened his deep blue eyes, a bemused smile flickering at the corners of his mouth.

‘Ideally rare, but however it comes is fine by me.’

What made her ask that? She sounded like a disinterested waitress. She knew everything there was to know about Finn, including how he liked his steak cooked.

She’d sat through enough expensive restaurant meals to know what he’d choose from a menu without even asking him. Judging by Finn’s expression, he was as bemused by her question as she was.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ His hands found her shoulders, his fingertips massaging her tense muscles as his warmly familiar features observed her closely. A shiver ran the length of her body. ‘It’s just that you seem a bit distracted, a bit uptight. We could always go out to eat instead, if you prefer.’

‘No!’ she snapped, extracting herself from his distracting hold. Why did he have to be so goddam reasonable the whole time? It drove her mad. ‘It’s almost done now. Go and sit down. Take the glasses through. I’ll be there in a minute.’

She could do this. She had to do this. She plonked the steaks on the plate. They were more chargrilled now than rare, to match the potatoes and her mood, but they would have to do. She was really past caring about the state of the food.