Because I'm angry. Because I'm in denial and refuse to accept last night as canon. Because Carla Connor deserved better, deserved the chance to speak.
Thinking Out Loud
"He's gentle. Gorgeous. Loving."
Music is playing softly from the speakers and he hears it as he enters, a decision already in his head, but he catches the end of her words more and finds himself intrigued. The music is turned down, as if someone somewhere is aware that he has entered. (Carla isn't.) He stops his walking, takes a step back. He is away from the wedding party, away from her, but he stares. And he listens.
She is crying and words are followed by large gulps of air. She sniffs occasionally and she is squeezing her hands together, agony in her every movement; body giving a gentle sway. She's unstable on her feet, the headache she woke up with pounding like never before.
"I've never met anyone like Nick," she goes on to say. "He really makes me laugh, you know? I think, when we first came together, it was that that had me. His sense of humour. His ability to make me laugh, even when I don't want to."
She stops, she pauses, and Nick is unaware that she does so to catch his – their – niece's eye, to smile at her, a knowing smile that encourages her to continue.
"Now, I've been with a lot of men in my time — "
"I'd say," Gail mutters under her breath and Carla does not raise her eyes to it. She barely lets it register.
" — and never have I ever been loved by someone so... good. So decent. That's what he is: decent. He's moral and he loves his family, and he's loyal, and he's everything in this world I know that I'm not. But he makes me feel it, you know? He makes me feel worthy. Like I'm enough." She sniffles, so close to losing it at this point. "God, you don't know half of the shit I've put him through."
Michelle takes her hand, wanting to lead her away from the crowd, from the questioning looks and the confused faces. Carla's is full of complete and utter anguish. She's desperate to hold on. To wait for him. He must come; he always comes. He's the only person who has never let her down and her heart can't believe for longer than a second that he ever would.
After everything and everyone, she knows that this is it. It's him.
"Believe me when I say there is no one on this earth who is worthy of that man. Take it from someone who knows."
And with that, her face is buried into Michelle's shoulder. The tears come and they don't stop and it's silent for the most part. The music is cut and people are beginning to talk amongst themselves and all Nick can hear is her sobbing, sobbing and sobbing, and he's just standing there like an idiot, prolonging her agony.
"Carla."
Everyone stops. They stop in slow motion and he feels eyes on him, but none of them matter because Carla's are red and they are bloodshot and her mouth is half open. The hope he sees within her tears at him from the outside in.
No one dares swallow.
Carla near forgets how to breathe.
He repeats her name. "Carla."
She blinks. "Nick."
And she says his name like nobody else does. In that moment, they could've been anywhere. They, in his head, are not on opposite ends of an aisle, her in a dress; white and pure; he in a daft suit; too big and uncomfortable. They could be at home, watching some stupid film of his choice, she teasing him for it; a fight for the remote. They could be in the street, walking to work, walking home, walking anywhere so long as they are together. They could be in bed, on the edge of sleep, and how she'll whisper to him like there is space between them, like she is not lay on top of him, not wrapped around him like they are one. Nick, I love you.
But he cannot forget that the name, his name, he has just heard is pleading and it is broken. She is broken as he is and all he can think is they must fix this, fix them, fix each other and then maybe, maybe...
He holds out his hand.
"Baby, can we talk?"
There will be more to follow in due course!