A/N: hello, me again! I know my updates picked up the pace over summer and have since slowed down a lot. I'm sorry, I am planning on continuing with my stories (particularly The Coalition, and am working on a follow-up to Tinder since it got such a positive response) but I'm afraid you may have to wait a little longer...things are just a bit hectic!
This story was actually mostly written about a year or so ago, but I got the incentive to finish it off from MM Tribute Day. Hope you enjoy! xxx
...
Mary frantically emptied out her jewellery box onto the bed and rummaged through the mess it created. Letting out a groan of frustration, she thumped her fist on the duvet in anger before hurrying back over to her dresser to look through the drawers again.
She was so engrossed in her search that she didn't hear the footsteps coming up to the bedroom door. "Mary?" The voice was just behind the door.
Mary's movements instantly stilled as she looked to the door in horror. "Just a minute!" She blurted out, violently shoving her clothes and jewellery back into their rightful places. "OK!" She summoned, nervously glancing around the room to ensure that nothing seemed out-of-the-ordinary.
Matthew opened the door and peered around it before entering the room. "Everything OK?" He asked as he walked towards her. "You sounded a bit panicked."
"Oh, really?" Mary asked nonchalantly. "Everything's fine - I was just getting changed, that's all." She smiled lightly, banishing all worrisome thoughts from her mind so that they didn't appear on her face.
"You could've let me in for that..." Matthew smirked naughtily, bending to greet Mary properly with a kiss.
The feel of his beautiful lips on hers made Mary momentarily forget her troubles, until she slid her fingers into his hair and noticed that something felt different. Quickly, she removed her hands, slipping them around his waist and away from the vicinity of his eyes. Thankfully, Matthew didn't think this strange, and innocently continued caressing her lips with his.
"Mmm." Matthew hummed appreciatively as he pulled back. "Nothing like a kiss from your fiancée to start the weekend." He smiled down at said fiancée as his hands cupped her face. "Where do you want to go for brunch?"
As Mary looked up at her wonderful, kind fiancé, her guilt deepened. He was so good to her, so considerate and sweet and sensitive. How could she tell him that she'd lost her engagement ring?
"I don't mind, really." She replied as breezily as she could. "How about that pub we went to last month?"
"Oh yeah, good shout." Matthew nodded at the memory. "Their bacon was excellent, if I remember correctly. I might just order a plateful of it for us to share." He smiled. "Although are you still trying that crazy diet of yours?"
"It's not 'crazy'". Mary said defensively, keeping her arms firmly around his waist so that her hands were out of sight. "I just want to lose a bit of weight by the time the wedding rolls round. You wouldn't want your bride to roll down the aisle, would you?" She raised an eyebrow at him.
"That's a good point." Matthew pretended to ponder her question. "And, let's be honest, it would just be embarrassing if you looked the way you did now - you're a veritable heffalump." He poked her flat stomach, earning a playful slap on the arm (with her right hand, of course).
"Alright, maybe I'll have a bit of bacon." Mary conceded. Matthew had a habit of choosing his food at restaurants based on what Mary decided, not wanting to order anything too different to hers. Mary wasn't entirely sure why, but she supposed it was one of his ways of being polite. Lately, however, he'd grown rather sick of ordering salads, which he'd done as a result of Mary's diet, so he'd abandoned his former policy. He now devoted his time to making Mary realise how silly the concept of her dieting was - she didn't need it, and the wedding was still almost two months away!
"I'm not going to force you if you don't want to." Matthew kissed her cheek. "But don't complain to me when you smell how good it is and you're stuck with a plateful of leaves."
Mary merely narrowed her eyes at him before moving away and towards the bathroom, carefully slipping her hands into her pockets as she did so. Once in the ensuite, she rested against the sink, wondering what to do. Where could that bloody ring be? She'd definitely been wearing it on Thursday night - she and Matthew had gone out to a bar with some of his colleagues, and she remembered receiving multiple compliments on it from several of the women. So she must have lost it at some point yesterday…that wasn't especially helpful, however, given that she'd spent yesterday on the tube, at work, on Oxford Street when she met Matthew for some shopping and dinner, and then in a cab where he'd dropped her off. She'd only noticed that it was missing that morning when she went to take a shower - she always removed it before showering, for fear of it falling down the drain. She'd gone to remove it from her finger only to see that it wasn't there!
"Mary? Are you ready to go?" Matthew's voice called through the door, making Mary aware of how long she'd been stood in the ensuite. Matthew was very good at reading her moods and she didn't want to give him any clues as to her current state of stress. Once he tried to open her up to tell him her worries, it was very difficult to resist him.
"Yep, just washing my hands!" Mary called back cheerily, turning on the tap and looking down sadly as the water cascaded over her bare fingers.
...
Two days later, and Mary was still none-the-wiser as to the whereabouts of her precious ring. It was typical, she thought with a huff. Dozens of meaningless items of jewellery were sat safe and pristine in her house, but the one thing she valued the most suddenly disappeared without a trace.
Aside from her sadness at losing it and the worry of how to tell Matthew about it, she was now growing concerned about something else. What if the loss of the ring...meant something?
A niggling voice in the back of her mind was reminding her of those old wives' tales that her mother and grandmother had recounted over the years, particularly around the time Matthew proposed to her and she'd proudly showed off the ring to her family. Stories of women who had lost either their engagement or wedding bands, only for their husbands to meet their premature ends in gruesome circumstances, or for their marriages to suddenly fall apart without warning. Mary wasn't entirely sure why her family had felt the need to share these distressing stories with her, but they were playing over in her mind.
Maybe this odd occurrence was God's way of telling her that the marriage was a bad idea? A kind of forewarning sent from the skies?
It seemed to make sense in an insecure part of her mind, but there were two problems with this rationale.
Firstly, she didn't believe in God. Even if there was a God, she couldn't think why He would bother to try and help her out, not with the number of times she'd rolled her eyes and changed the channel whenever Edith watched Songs of Praise. It would have to be a really benevolent deity.
Secondly, the notion that marrying Matthew could be bad for her seemed ludicrous. She'd never been as happy as she'd been in the five years since they'd started dating, after several years of knowing (and, for the most part, disliking) each other at school and university, and that happiness had increased ten-fold since their engagement with the knowledge that she'd have him - complete with all his silly jokes, mundane hobbies and handsome features - for the rest of her life. He treated her so well - better than she deserved, really. She could depend on him to make her laugh when she felt sad, protect her when she felt threatened or afraid, ease her mind when she felt stressed, and debate with her when she was wrong.
Hmm. Maybe it was that last one that was the problem. They did bicker an awful lot. On the other hand, though, they did get along rather well too, particularly when it came to the various physical expressions of their love and affection. Then again, marriages can't survive on hugs, kisses and love-making alone, can they? Perhaps, once the honeymoon period was over, they would end up arguing constantly and drive each other apart. They hadn't lived together before, and Mary wasn't entirely confident in Matthew's abilities to help keep a house as spic and span as she was used to. What if he wanted to go for a cheaper, less well-trained housekeeper so that they could save money? Worse still, what if he didn't want to hire a housekeeper at all?!
Mary took a deep breath as her mind wandered through this dystopian vision. She pictured a scene of her and Matthew shouting at each other as several small children ran around them through piles of garbage and leaflets of the church tours that Matthew made them go on.
Yes, this must be why she lost the ring. It's a sign from the heavens to save them both from making each other miserable. Plus, she could've sworn he was flirting with that cashier in the supermarket the other day, the cad.
Mary frowned again, glancing down at her finger that still felt like it was missing Matthew's presence.
…
"Mum, we're not serving that disgusting Merlot to our guests." Mary said adamantly, hoping that this definitive statement would put an end to the discussion once and for all. She'd always thought that the main sources of contention in planning a wedding were the budget and the guest-list, and potentially the outfits (depending on how varied the tastes of the bridal party were), but it transpired there were many more causes of arguments than she could have possibly imagined. "It doesn't go with the food. Anyway, I thought we'd agreed that Matthew and I would be in charge of the menu?" She reminded her mother, not bothering to be subtle in trying to nudge her out of areas where her opinion was not wanted.
Cora shrugged delicately as she folded up one of the lace samples from Mary's dress. "Well, Matthew told me that he liked the Merlot."
"What?" Mary frowned.
"Matthew likes that wine and told me he would happily serve it with the main course. So you'll have to take up your argument with him too, I'm afraid." Cora stated, not sounding regretful in the slightest that her choice of wine wasn't being ruled out just yet.
Mary shook her head and rolled her eyes. This was just perfect. She'd been hoping to tick off a lot of items on her to-do list today, being a Saturday and only seven weeks before the big day, but so far the list had only expanded. She was tired and annoyed and, to make matters worse, she hadn't seen Matthew in four days. They were due to have dinner at his place tonight, and she'd been looking forward to escaping her house - which had become a hub of wedding chatter and chaos - and relaxing in Matthew's arms in his cosy apartment. But now she'd have to speak to him about wedding business. And she still hadn't found her ring.
"Ugh!" She groaned dramatically, grabbing her handbag and storming out of the room, her mother's small tut at her behaviour doing nothing to cheer her up.
...
"Just the fiancée I wanted to speak to." Matthew's happy voice greeted her as he opened the door.
"Why did you tell my mother that you agreed with her choice of wine?" Mary blurted out, having never fully understood the concept of putting things gently.
"What? I never agreed to it." Matthew retorted defensively as Mary walked into the flat without her usual kiss hello. It was clear that she was on edge, as she seemed to be so often these last few days when they'd spoken on the phone.
"I just spoke to her and she said you both talked about it without me." Mary said curtly. She was annoyed enough as it was without Matthew suffering from short-term memory loss.
"Oh, that." Matthew recalled the conversation in question. "I didn't say I definitely wanted to choose it - I just said it sounded like a good option."
"Why would you say that? That's basically the same thing as choosing it!" Mary exclaimed.
"No it's not! I meant that we'll keep it under consideration when we come to make our decision." Matthew defended himself.
"Matthew, what have I been telling you for the last seven months? You need to be careful what you say around my parents and we need to make these decisions together!" Mary said, venting her frustration.
"For God's sake, Mary, it's not like I booked the venue without consulting you! Am I forbidden from making passing comments about wine now?" Matthew asked. It hadn't exactly been easy on him, all this planning. His soon-to-be in-laws liked to do things in a much more grandiose manner than he was used to, and there were complex rules about how their kinds of weddings worked. With all the added rules that Mary had imposed about how to deal with them, Matthew's mind had been a bit foggy and confused lately.
"No, but..." Mary spluttered, unsure of precisely what she was angry about. She knew deep down that Matthew hadn't done anything wrong, but all the stress was beginning to get to her.
"But what?" Matthew prompted when she hesitated, which only served to aggravate her further.
"You were flirting with that woman the other day!" Mary declared abruptly, it being the only sentence her brain would provide her with. Clearly, her subconscious was still feeling insecure.
Matthew looked utterly bewildered. "Excuse me?"
"In Marks & Spencer's!" Mary continued, "That busty redhead at the till."
Matthew frowned as he tried to cast his mind back. "You mean when we went to buy snacks last week?" Mary nodded. "We weren't flirting - we were talking about the weather!"
"It was the way you talked about the weather." Mary clarified.
Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is ridiculous. Look, Mary, I know you're being put under a lot of pressure by your family and it's never easy for the bride, but you can't take it out on me."
"I'm not taking it out on you." Mary countered automatically, although she had the courtesy to look sheepish when Matthew raised his eyebrows at her.
"You have been acting oddly for the last week or so." Matthew said more thoughtfully. "It wouldn't be anything to do with the fact that you're not wearing your ring, would it?"
Mary froze. She'd been so caught up with all the other petty things that were irritating her that she'd forgotten to conceal her left hand. God, it was too late now. She'd been found out. That ring had probably cost Matthew a fortune, he'd probably spent weeks agonising over its design, and she'd gone and carelessly flung it off somewhere in Debenham's, in all likelihood. A wave of pent-up guilt came washing over her and, combined with her tiredness and stress, led her to tears.
"Oh, Matthew," she sobbed, tears streaming down her face within seconds, "I'm so sorry."
Taken aback by this sudden change in her mood, Matthew took a moment to react. "Mary! What is it?" He rushed over to her, immediately wrapping his arms around her.
"I've lost the ring!" Mary cried, burying her head in his chest.
"Mary, darling, don't worry, you haven't lost it." Matthew soothed, stroking her hair.
Silly, sweet Matthew. He was trying to reassure her that the ring must be somewhere in her room but he didn't realise that she had looked everywhere for it.
"No, I have, I have!" Mary insisted, sniffing. "I've lost the beautiful ring you gave me and now I'm snapping at you for no reason. I'm the worst fiancee in the world!"
"Mary..." Matthew said softly, gently prising her away so that he could look at her. He smiled at her fondly as he wiped her tears away. "Number one: you're the most wonderful fiancee in the world and don't ever say otherwise." He ran a finger down her nose affectionately as she sniffed again. "Number two: you haven't lost the ring." He said calmly. Before Mary could protest or question him, he walked over to the coffee table and picked something up. "I wanted to give this to you tonight anyway." He said.
Mary's heart leapt as she recognised the box that her engagement ring had been in. Matthew opened it and inside, perched in its holder, was her gleaming engagement ring. "You've had it?" Mary exclaimed. "How?"
Matthew chuckled. "I took it off you last Friday, when you were snoozing in the cab on the way home." He explained. "I meant to give it back to you sooner but it took a little longer than expected."
Mary was perplexed. "Why would you take it without telling me? What took longer than expected?"
Smiling bashfully but looking a little nervous, Matthew took the ring out of its box and held it out in front of her.
It took Mary a moment to notice, the relief and confusion initially distracting her. Then, it caught her eye. On the inside of the thin band was an inscription. She took it from his fingers and peered at it.
"'Worth the wait'?" Mary read softly. Matthew, looking on nervously, began to explain. But he didn't need to. She understood immediately.
"I just wanted you to know that, after everything we've been through together - the arguments, the silly mistakes, saying things we didn't mean, being stubborn, our family's initial disapproval, and all the other obstacles...well, I wanted you to know that you're worth it. You're worth all of it." He smiled at her as she looked at him adoringly. "And I wanted you to always know in the years to come that, whenever we argue or fall out with each other in future - which I assume we will," He said with a wry smile that she echoed, "and it takes days or even longer for us to make up, you'll still be worth the wait. You're worth everything." He said simply.
Damn this man and his capacity to make me an emotional wreck, Mary thought as a whole new set of tears sprang to her eyes. Damn this beautiful, amazing man that she was going to call her husband in a few weeks' time.
"I don't know what to say." She sniffed, hugging him close to her. "Thank you."
"I'm glad you like it." Matthew grinned as he stroked her back. As excited as he'd been about personalising her ring, which had been his grandmother's, he'd worried about her reaction. Would she be annoyed that he had effectively paid someone to chip away at the white gold band of a ring that she already loved? His desire to ensure that she would always have a reminder of the depth of his feelings outweighed any short-term concerns, and he went ahead with his plan. "Do you forgive me for stealing the ring from you, then?" He asked, pulling away from her embrace slightly and giving her his best puppy-dog expression. He'd felt guilty about it, knowing that she would probably be going spare. It was only supposed to take a day or two, but the engraver ended up needing longer and there wasn't anything he could do about it. The fact that Mary hadn't mentioned it to him made him think that perhaps she hadn't even noticed, but her outburst a few minutes earlier made him realise how worried she had been.
"I suppose I can forgive you, although it was cruel to leave me panicking for a week." Mary replied, running her hand affectionately down his chest. She could hardly be annoyed with him when he'd been so romantic and, in truth, she probably should have noticed that the ring was missing earlier than she did. "But I do love the ring even more now." She smiled, kissing him thoroughly.
"Well, just in case I have any more making up to do, I've made you dinner." Matthew took her hand and led her towards the kitchen.
"Mmm, I'm starving. What are we having?" Mary asked, looking around eagerly. She was very lucky to be marrying such a talented cook.
"I thought we'd start off with this delightful wine." Matthew teased, holding out a bottle of the very Merlot that Mary had argued with her mother and Matthew about.
Mary glared at him as he laughed and tried to duck away from her playful slap. Being Matthew's wife was going to be exhilarating, romantic and infuriating. But it would all be worth it.