Left At The Altar - Part Two

Left At The Altar

Part Two

A Short Story by Damien L Malcolm

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This is Part Two to Left At The Altar. If you haven't read Part One, click here first.

I awoke dreamily, revelling for the first few moments in the silken fabric of the sheets wrapped tightly against my almost naked body. My eyes were still closed and I could feel the sticky remains of eye-shadow sticking my eyelids to the pillowcase. It took me a second to realise precisely where I was. Then, with a heavy feeling pressing on my chest and a throb in my head, I remembered. It was the day after what should have been my wedding. I had a hangover, was in my own bed instead of a fancy hotel on the coast... and Peter had left me at the altar.

Bastard. Son of a prick, bastard. Mongrel.

But then as I lay there, silently cursing under my breath at how humiliated and hurt I still felt over that deadbeat, I heard something coming from the direction of my kitchen. A cupboard door, a fry pan. Something sizzling and a waft of bacon. A male voice, humming.

Suddenly it all came back to me in a rush. Richard was here. Peter's brother, Richard. Ohh, and I'd spent last night cracking on to him! My God how had I embarrassed myself like that? What was wrong with me, flinging myself like that at a man I'd only known for a day? He must think I'm such a tramp.

“Hey Susan, you awake?” came his soft English accent through the door.

I pulled the sheets up over my face, hoping that if he couldn't see me when he came in the room, he'd just go away and leave me alone to wallow. It didn't work.

“Susan, what are you doing?” The voice was not muffled now; he must have opened the door.

“Go away!” I yelled though the sheets, wincing from the headache, before whimpering. “I'm not here.”

“Now now, don't be like that. Look, I've made you a scrumptious breakfast, with both coffee and orange juice. No doubt you have a slight hangover from last night and will need all the fluids you can get.”

I could hear his footsteps shuffling up beside the bed, and what sounded like my good silver breakfast tray being laid down on the bedside table. His presence was so intense I could feel him looming over the head of the bed, waiting for me to show myself. Slowly I pulled the sheet down until my eyes were peering out just above them. He was standing just centimetres from my face, wearing nothing besides a pair of boxer shorts. Oh. My. God.

“I'm so sorry for what I did last night,” I mumbled, ignoring the excitement stirring within me as I looked up at him. “You must think I'm such a loser.”

Richard smiled warmly. “The only loser in this scenario, Susan, is my idiot older brother. I can completely understand why you felt the need for affection last night. I would have too if I'd been made to feel that way by someone. Anyone would have.”

His words gave me a little more confidence. After a moment's hesitation I began to sit up properly, making sure I brought the sheet up with me to cover my bare boobs. My head was thumping, but thankfully I didn't feel sick. And the breakfast he'd made me looked yum. He caught me eyeing off the food, and instinctively picked up the tray and went to lay it over my knees for me.

However he stopped when there came a knock at the door to my apartment. Richard looked at me, and I at him, exchanging questioning looks. I had no idea who it could be. I flashed a glance at the bedside clock; it read only half past seven.

“I'll go see,” Richard said, placing the tray back on the bedside table and leaving the room. I wasn't about to stay there. Quickly, I got off the bed, wrapping the sheet around myself as I followed him out into the lounge.

After rounding the corner into the hallway, I looked up to see Peter standing in the doorway. The very man that only the afternoon before had left me on our wedding day was now standing in my bloody doorway. If I hadn't been so amused at his face, I'd have run up and hit him.

He was just standing there with this dumb expression, looking from his shirt-less brother to me, wrapped in a sheet. It was pretty clear I was mostly naked, and it didn't take a genius to imagine what he was thinking.

“What the hell?!” Peter demanded, turning fierce eyes on his brother.

Richard squared his bare shoulders. “What are you doing here, Peter?”

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here? And why are you almost naked in my fiancé's apartment?”

“Your fiancé?” I blurted, stepping forward and almost losing my sheet. “I'm pretty sure you gave up that relationship when you ditched me at the wedding yesterday, Peter!”

“Look, I made a mistake, ok? I'm sorry. I just felt in over my head yesterday, that's all. I panicked. But that doesn't mean you should go shacking up with my brother! I came here this morning to straighten things out, only to find Mr Smooth here already making moves on my fiancé while the bed's not even cold.”

Richard opened his mouth to defend himself, but I cut him off. “We have nothing to 'straighten out', Peter. And no moves were made from Richard, you twit. He's the perfect gentleman, everything you're not. I seduced him.”

Richard stared at me with a stunned look in his eyes. It was technically a lie, of course. Indeed I did instigate the kiss, but nothing further had happened. However, I was quite happy to keep Peter guessing. He deserved it.

Though, I didn't expect what was about to happen. Richard had just started turning back to say something to his brother, when Peter's fist seemed to fire from nowhere. The punch caught Richard right in the chin, sending him back against the wall of my entryway.

“You idiot!” I screeched at Peter as I leapt forward to catch the flailing Richard. But Richard had balanced himself already. He brought a hand up to me, warning me off.

“Susan, I suggest you stay back. My big brother has once again forgotten his manners.” He turned to Peter with seething eyes. “And again I will need to teach him some.”

“Just try it, you wimp,” Peter taunted.

“Richard, no, you don't need to do this,” I pleaded, desperately holding my sheet around my boobs with one hand and reaching for his arm with the other. “Just shut the door on him.”

“I'm afraid that won't do. Not this time.”

Richard lunged forward and punched Peter in the chest, following up with a hit to the face. Peter wasn't backing down, though. He grabbed Richard around the shoulders and the two men fell into a wrestle, pushing each other back and forth across my entryway, grunting in anger.

As I watched them, two separate things occurred to me simultaneously. Firstly, I really did not like violence. It was so childish and pointless. Secondly, having two men fight over me was the sexiest thing ever!

After a few moments struggling, Richard got the upper hand and thrust Peter against the doorway. Peter's back struck the jamb in what looked like a painful thwack. Richard took advantage of his immediate upper-hand and grasped Peter's shirt, using it to throw him out into the corridor. Peter lost balance and fell to the carpet against the stair-rail, holding his shoulder and groaning.

“I've spent my whole life watching you disrespect women.” Richard yelled, pointing an accusing finger down at Peter. “And I've had quite enough.” He then turned and faced me. “Do you have any idea how many women he has been with, Susan?”

I was at a loss for words, all flustered over the fight and excitement.

“Hundreds,” he continued, not waiting for my answer. “Hundreds, Susan. I spent my high school years alone, watching him cruise through his senior years with a new girlfriend every week. Every single one he treated abhorrently. And he has never changed, flitting in and out of relationships, if you could call them that, leaving every single woman hurt and damaged in his wake. Has he ever shown you any respect, Susan?”

I didn't answer, but my eyes said it all.

“As I thought.” Turning to stare his brother down, Richard continued. “You're arrogant, narcissistic and downright cruel. Yet when I heard you had met a girl after running away to Australia, I thought maybe you had finally come to your senses and settled down. News of your wedding was a pleasant surprise, even if a slight shock. I flew in from London yesterday hardly believing I was about to see my big brother getting married. At the airport you seemed fine. And when I met this beautiful woman your were set to marry, I felt proud of you, Peter.”

“Ha! I doubt it,” Peter spat, slowly pulling himself up off the floor. “You've always been jealous of me. Pride? For me? Ridiculous. You're incapable of feeling anything of the sort, brother.”

“You are incapable of showing behaviour that warrants it, brother,” Richard retorted coolly. “And yet again, you did not even have the courage to face up to your own failure. Expecting me to do your dirty work, like I have always done...”

Richard turned to me, eyes sparkling, “However this time covering for him brought something special into my life. I met you, Susan. I got to spend almost an entire day with you. You are... just... I, I have no words to explain it.” He looked down at his feet, shaking his head. Then glanced back at me. His expression was so warm it made me tingle. “I must admit to you, from the very first time I saw you at the house yesterday morning, I felt drawn to you. Though, of course, I let my morals dictate my feelings. And as much as I felt compelled to console you yesterday after the wedding fell to pieces, out of a sense of duty to make up for my brother's failings, I had another more meaningful reason for staying.”

While something inside me knew what Richard was trying to say, still doubt and confusion rattled around in my head. I was staring intently into his deep blue eyes, trying to find some sign that this was pretend, a dream, trick or something. Why? Because the truth was so terrifying and amazing all at the same time there was a danger my head would explode.

He was waiting for me to say something, but all I could squeeze out was a meek, “You did?”

“Yes Susan. I am quite convinced that I have fallen in love with you. In fact, I believe it was indeed from the very moment I first saw you.”

“Oh come on,” came a loud, drawn out protest from Peter outside in the corridor. Richard frowned slightly, then turned, only taking his eyes from mine for a second.

“Do shut up, you imbecile,” he said, as he slammed the door shut in Peter's face.

Turning back to me, Richard took my hand in his. I swear my heart stopped beating. It just stopped. Completely. And I stood there frozen, panicking about what he was going to say... or ask.

No... he could not be about to ask me if I would marry him! I hardly knew him. But what if he did? Nah, he wouldn't. But my God he was so incredible. Should I say yes? But, oh I don't know. Maybe he'll say something completely different. Oh shut up Susan and quickly decide what to answer in case he does...!

“Susan Kemp, you have had a terrible twenty-four hours, yet in contrast my time since meeting you has been the brightest I have ever known. I want to ask something of you.”

“Yes,” I choked, “What's that?”

“Firstly, would you care to come eat breakfast with me on the patio?”

“Hmm mmm,” I nodded pathetically, petty sure I still hadn't taken a breath yet.

I was so transfixed on Richard's face, I didn't even notice whether my boobs were still covered or not.

“Then after breakfast, will you fly with me back to London? You could take some time off, away from here. I will show you my home, we'll get to know each other and we can just... see where things take us. Do you feel that is a good idea?”

Every feeling I had been bottling up in the last ten minutes coupled with the trauma of yesterday, and together they all came rushing down on me in a single moment. Anger, fear, happiness, relief, sorrow and twenty-six years of fairytale princess fantasies, all converging in one fell swoop. I flustered embarrassingly for a second, feeling like a giddy school-girl meeting her favourite boy-band backstage at a pop concert.

Finally when I had pulled myself together, I squeezed his hand with both of mine. The sheet fell to the floor unheeded, and with a relieved sigh I gave him my answer.

“Yes. Yes I do.”

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