How Not to be a Bride. Portia MacIntosh

my hobbies have changed – even my looks have changed, which I can’t help but notice, standing here in front of this full-length ISFJORDEN mirror. Gone are the days I’d spend hours at the gym, eating clean and tanning regularly to maintain my toned, LA body, and since I stopped dropping triple digits on my long, blonde locks at a swanky salon, instead going to a cheaper, local place, I’ve had what’s known in the trade as a chemical cut, which basically means they’ve been using such strong peroxide on my hair that it has broken off, leaving me with much shorter locks. As superficial as it sounds, I took such confidence from these things, and now I feel kind of unremarkable by comparison. I don’t look bad, I just don’t look like me.

      Finally through the checkout, I spy Leo standing over by the door, finishing up a hotdog. It took me all this time to find one item and here he is, his trolley piled high with things, finishing up his dinner. This is further proof that he’s some kind of Ikea wizard. He just seems to know how to manipulate the place, to bend it to his will, whether he’s modifying furniture or taking the little shortcuts he knows to get from sofas to plates in a matter of minutes.

      ‘There you are,’ he says as I approach him. ‘I was just about to come looking for you – I half expected to find you curled up in a bed somewhere.’

      ‘What would you have done then?’ I ask, adopting a more flirtatious tone.

      ‘Probably napped with you,’ he replies. ‘Maybe.’

      I see that little glimmer in his eye that I love so much.

      I laugh to myself. Sex in an Ikea bed, in Ikea, is probably Leo’s number-one fantasy. It would probably make his day to find me in one of the fake bedrooms, whispering sweet Swedish nothings into his ear before some post-coital meatballs.

      ‘OK, we need to go if you’re going to get to Boots before they close,’ Leo says with a clap of his hands.

      I absolutely need to get to Boots before they close. It might feel like it’s been a really long time since we had sex, but there’s no time for flirting if I’m going to get the things I need for my trip tomorrow. Plus, we’re not going to have sex in Ikea, are we? Our naughty days are a thing of the past. Well, when you’ve been together for four years you don’t really do wild any more, do you?

      ‘Here, I got you one,’ Leo says, handing me a hotdog.

      ‘I’m OK, thanks,’ I reply. ‘I need to watch what I eat.’

      ‘No, you don’t. You’re as sexy as the day I met you,’ he insists sincerely.

      I smile.

      ‘I’m not really hungry,’ I reply, giving his arm a squeeze.

      Leo shrugs his shoulders before eating it himself.

      I know it’s easy to put on a little weight when you’re comfortable in a relationship, but my super-sexy boyfriend is just as hot as the day we first met. I suppose being a fireman helps with that. He has to keep fit, and the uniform still lights a fire in my downstairs. I, on the other hand, work from home, so I’m not as active as I used to be. I’m a healthy-ish weight; I’m just nowhere near as toned as I used to be.

      Finally at our car, Leo begins loading things into the boot as I plonk myself down in the passenger seat, exhaling deeply, relieved to have survived another trip to Ikea.

      ‘Erm, Mia,’ Leo calls from behind me.

      ‘Yeah?’

      ‘You’ve got the wrong size,’ he tells me.

      I massage my temples.

      ‘Can’t you make it work?’

      ‘I mean, it would be better to just have the right one. Shall I run back in?’

      ‘Leo, I need to get to Boots,’ I tell him.

      ‘I know, I know,’ he calls back. ‘I just really wanted to do some work on the kitchen today. Aren’t you sick of eating microwave food and takeaways?’

      ‘Well, yeah, but we’re going away tomorrow,’ I reply.

      ‘To Cornwall,’ he reminds me. ‘Where they have plenty of Boots… I’ll make sure we stop at one on the way to the beach house and you can even give me a list of what you want and I’ll get it… and I’ll buy you some Daim chocolate.’

      ‘OK, fine, go,’ I tell him. ‘I’ll stay here.’

      Leo gives me a kiss on the cheek before dashing off back inside, leaving me sitting in the car. I know he just wants to get the house finished so that we can get on with living a happy life in it. I guess I’m just impatient and growing tired of the constant DIY.

      Perhaps the kid with the helicopter arms was on to something. That’s why he’s probably in Toys R Us right now getting whatever toy he wants, and I’m still stuck here, in Ikea purgatory, waiting for a kitchen door.

Chapter Two

      Isn’t it weird how, when you visit somewhere you haven’t been for a while, it seems so familiar and yet so alien. Like it’s something you saw in a movie once.

      Being back in Cornwall, back at the beach house where my sister got married, is making me feel exactly that. I want to say it hasn’t changed at all, because it hasn’t, but what happened here during her wedding week feels like something that happened to someone else.

      My sister, Belle, and her husband, Dan, tied the knot here four years ago and thought it might be nice to celebrate their wedding anniversary here, with the family and friends who were there on their special day.

      It was at Belle and Dan’s wedding that I met Leo. I was a bridesmaid, he was the best man – it sounds like something fresh out of romantic comedy, right? Of course we were supposed to end up together. It took me a while to realise this, though, and so the path to true love wasn’t a smooth one.

      You wouldn’t think it, meeting me now, but back then I had a real problem with commitment. I arrived at the beach house for Belle’s wedding expecting to have a terrible time, but then Leo showed up.

      I remember the first time I met him like it was yesterday. The entire wedding party went out for lunch, except Dan, the groom, who was laid up in bed with a bad back, so I wound up staying behind to look after him. There had been mention of a best man who was showing up at some point, but I completely forgot about that. That’s why, on my way back to my room, I didn’t think it would be a problem when my bikini top fell off… but then I heard this voice behind me. We spoke for a moment before I turned around, and when I finally saw him, I couldn’t get over how sexy he was. Sure, he was big and buff, but his swept-back dark hair, and sexy green eyes, and dimples… my God, those dimples!

      Of course, at the time I didn’t know it was love at first sight. I thought it was just lust. To protect my modesty I was using my hands as a bra. I remember Leo introducing himself to me and offering me a hand to shake so that I’d remove one of my own from my chest. I loved how cheeky he was, and then he kissed me.

      The kiss knocked me for six, so much so that I didn’t know what to say afterwards. I think I blurted something along the lines of: ‘I’ve never kissed a fireman before.’

      ‘Neither have I,’ he replied.

      I assumed he was like me, just after a good time, but he later confessed than he wasn’t the ladies’ man I thought he was, and that he just wanted me. It took me a little longer to realise this, but I got there in the end.

      It’s weird, to think that, before, when we met, I thought of his job as the ultimate sexy-man job. I just thought of his big, strong arms and his stripper uniform. These days, all I think about is how dangerous his job is, and how I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.

      The beach house is just as beautiful as I remember it: brilliant-white walls, contemporary architecture, with big windows, multiple balconies and an entire beach for a back garden.