Page 17 of Built

Jack: sounds like a plan

Noah: I’ll make the dinner, you 2 idiots are in charge of the intervention. Just don’t make it weird

FIVE

Mia

I close the front door behind me, lean my back against it, and thunk my head into the solid wood. What am I doing? I’m pretty sure I just asked Luke to Netflix and chill with me. No wonder he looked at me like that. I didn’t mean that, though. At least, I think I didn’t. I’m engaged for heaven’s sake! It’s just, he’s so easy to be around and I have to admit, I’ve been kind of lonely lately.

While I might not be an extrovert, I still enjoy having someone around. Someone to quietly be in the same space as me. Someone who won’t demand my attention, but who’s just there. I always thought Oliver got that about me. Only, lately he’s been working so much, and when I asked him about it, he said he prefers to leave work at the office rather than bringing it home.

I can understand that. I hate bringing work home, too. I just don’t understand how he can be quite so busy given we mostly work on the same cases. Still, his job is demanding and he’s been pushing my dad to make him a partner, so he’s been doing his best to win every case. Putting in long hours and spending lots of time preparing witnesses ahead of every trial.

I push myself off the door and go find my phone. Still no reply from Oliver. It’s early, but my stomach rumbles so I ring and order a pizza from the local takeaway. Nothing like greasy food and wine to make me feel extra lousy, but that never stopped me before. No Uber Eats in Rosella Bay, though, so I have to drive down to pick it up. Which gives me an excuse to get some chocolate at the store. OK, all the chocolate.

By the time I’ve got a glass of pinot gris from the cellar in my hand and a slice of chicken and salami pizza half eaten on my plate, I’m just feeling mad. By the time I’ve eaten three quarters of it and drunk at least half the bottle, I’m sad, and all the stress I’ve been pushing down about the wedding and work and the renovation floods to the surface, welling at my eyes.

Flicking on my phone, I dial Oliver’s number for the third time today. I’m actually a little bit shocked when he answers.

“Mia, hi. Sorry. I’ve been tied up with work stuff. You know how it is. Did you get the bathroom sorted?”

“Hi!” The quaver in my voice has no right to be there. I clear my throat and continue. “Got it sorted. We ended up picking out some green tiles instead and I actually really like—”

“So, are you coming back to Sydney tonight?”

He cuts me off and it takes me a moment to process his question. “Oh. No. I figured I’d just hang out for the weekend. It’s so much nicer here. Why don’t you come down tomorrow and we can get up early Monday and drive back in time for work?”

“Mia, you know I’m too busy for that right now. I just need some time to relax before the trial continues on Monday.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I guess I thought it might be relaxing to spend a night here. You could come tonight and make it two.”

Oliver sighs. “I feel like you’re not listening to me.”

Guilt twists my stomach. He’s right. He said he didn’t want to come. “I’m sorry.”

He sighs again. “Forget it. Why don’t you just relax and have a nice weekend? You can get some planning done for the wedding while you’re there.”

Inwardly, I groan. I didn’t need a reminder about the fact I’ve been putting this off. “Yeah, ah, about that. Nancy called. You know I told you she wants to know which stationery to use...”

“Mia, just get whatever you want. You know I don’t care about that stuff. It’s all you, babe.”

That’s my problem, but it feels selfish to say so, when Oliver is clearly feeling tired and stressed. He doesn’t need this weighing him down as well. “Yeah. Alright. I’ll work something out.”

“Thanks.” After a pause, Oliver says, “So you’re coming home on Monday morning?”

“I guess so.”

“Great. Well I’ll talk to you then, OK? Take it easy.”

He hangs up before I’ve barely even said goodbye and it occurs to me we ended the conversation without saying I love you. Is this normal for a couple about to get married? I mean admittedly, we’ve been together since high school. Well, if you don’t count that summer and my gap year.

It feels like a long time. It’s not like we’re in the first flush of the romance anymore. I think getting married at this point is just formalising what everyone always expected we’d do anyway. Even my parents talk about us as if we’re an old married couple. But shouldn’t there be a little spark left? A little excitement or missing one another when we’re not together?

I take another sip of my wine and stare at my phone. Impulsively, I call Tegan, the only other person in my life apart from my parents who has known me as long as Oliver.

“Hey, Teegs, am I making a huge mistake?”

She laughs. “Mia, knowing you, I’m going to say no. You’re always so careful about everything. What’s stressing you?”

---