Page 22 of My Big Fat Italian Break-Up

I swear he loves that mare as much as he loves me. But I can’t fault him for it. Julian loves all living creatures and it’s one of the many reasons I love him. ‘Then I’ll call the vet.’

He eyed me, still unsure. ‘So it’s OK with you if I go again? Just like that?’

‘Just like that,’ I said, trying to hide the fact that I wanted to grab him by his shirt and shake him while blubbering,Please don’t go! There are too many blue squares on my calendar that I’m so afraid we’ll never make it to the pink square at this rate!But I didn’t, because I had to have some faith in the man I wanted to marry. Right?

‘But what about the wedding?’ he countered. ‘If we start publicizing my book in Europe, this may easily protract into late fall…’

You see, just when I was about to give up on him, he’d completely melt me all over again. It really wasn’t his fault if he was now part of a system that had snowballed. He’d been caught unawares. It was only Sienna and Terry’s fault. They should get married to each other and bugger off to some distant PR planet.

‘We’ll postpone it,’ I suggested, against any sense of self-preservation.

I could almost feel my own heart bursting while a shrill voice inside me screechedAre you absolutely nuts?But I shut it out. Because he was in this relationship too, right? It wasn’t all about me. If I’d been the one to need this time, he’d have given it to me, no problem. In fact, he’d given me two years without whining. So yes, he deserved all my patience. Well, as much as I could muster, that is.

‘Postpone?’ he said, looking appalled. ‘Absolutely not, Erica. We’ve been waiting for forever.’

I took his hand. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ll be here when you get back. Now go and get yourself famous again.’

He looked into my eyes and what I saw was uncertainty turning to hope. Because hewantedto go – I could see it in his eyes. And then I saw hope turn to gratitude and finally, unconditional love. It was worth every blow I’d previously received to my heart.

‘OK,’ he finally agreed, kissing me on the forehead. ‘I’ll go call Sienna.’

‘You do that.’ Once I was alone, I dialed Paul’s cellphone.

‘Hey, sunshine,’ he chimed.

‘Where are you?’

‘I’m in Siena looking at invitations. Man, you wouldn’t believe how cheesy they are.’

My jaw clenched. He’d be gutted, too, my Paulie. He needed to nail this wedding as much as I needed to nail (pun intended) my groom.

‘Right. Paul, we might have to forget September for the wedding. There’s a chance Julian might be away.’

‘What? You’re kidding me, right? We already have the late-summer fig antipasti and desserts! And the raspberry mousse. You can’t just change everything like that! And what about the dress I found you? It’ssleeveless.’

I could hear the panic in his voice. He wasn’t used to things not going his way. Because most of the time, they did.

‘Paul, chill. It’ll be OK.’ If I could say it, somebody had to believe it.

‘I can’t chill! I have to call all my contacts. The florist – you can’t have local calla lilies in winter! And the invitations – you can’t have a late-summer theme on your invitations if it’s a Christmas wedding!’

‘I never said it would be a Christmas wedding.’

‘Then when is it, Erica? I need to know!’

Yeah. Him and me both. ‘Listen, I’ll get back to you as soon as I speak to Julian, OK?’

‘Does he even remember you’re getting married?’

I gasped. Of all people, he was the one who knew how important this was for me. I could have understood – and in fact expected it – from Marcy. But Paul? A bitter knot rose in my throat. He’d never spoken to me like that before. What was happening to us? Scratch that, what was happening to both my relationships? Could I not get one damn thing right?

‘I-I have to go,’ I whispered and hung up before he could hear the humiliation in my voice.

He was right, of course. At this rate, it really was going to be a Christmas wedding.

When Paul got home two hours later, he looked at me with spaniel eyes and spread his arms to hug me.

‘I’m sorry, sunshine. I panicked. I was a jerk.’

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