This story has been rattling around in my head since I finished Series 5. I feel like Rachel rushed into a relationship with Adam, and she wasn't really in the right mindset to get married. Here's my take on an alternative ending! Please review!
Broad shoulders pulled his suit jacket tight across his back as he stood at the alter. From her hiding place she could see him tapping each finger against the thumb of his right hand. A nervousness that hadn't been there before washed over her as she watched him; the man she was about to marry. A man she had somehow known for so many years and hardly knew at all. He lifted his head, turning his body towards the back of the room, towards her. She stepped back, out of view, not wanting him to see her yet. Then the music began and Philip was by her side, taking her arm in his. Rachel opened her mouth to speak, to protest she wasn't ready. No words came, and her wide eyed expression was met with the youthful smile of her nephew. Head tilted towards the door, Philip urged her forwards with his eyes.
His hand was on the small of her back now, pushing her forwards. Step, together, step, together. Rachel remembered practising this slow walk with Melissa years ago. A makeshift aisle running down the middle of their childhood bedroom. Never dreaming that it would be anyone other than their father beside her. Her baby sister throwing flower petals behind. Step, together, step, together. She glanced over her shoulder, finding only empty space where Melissa should be. Rachel turned back leaning closer to Philip. She tried to tell him that they needed to wait, that her sister wasn't here. But the words stuck in her throat, choking her. This was all wrong. Step, together, step, together. Her head spun as Philip continued to march forwards past a sea of faces. She scanned the seats with frantic eyes, searching for Melissa. She had to be here, she had to be. Step, together, step, together. Her breath had quickened and she made a conscious effort now to slow it down. Grounding herself in the moment, focussing on the faces around her. Kim and Andrew sitting side by side, their entwined hands hidden between them. Steph's pink lipstick smile from under a fascinator that, like her, was entirely too much.
Then she saw him, nestled inbetween her friends, her colleagues. To anyone else it would look like he was one of them, like he fitted. Her face paled and she grabbed for Philip's arm, his head still firmly facing forward. She tried to shake him, make him look. But Philip pulled her forwards, roughly now. Rachel's feet dragging as she tried to pull back. Stuart Hordley rose to his feet, a smile playing on his lips as he began to whisper, "Whore. Whore. Whore." Another voice joined Stuart's. Rachel whipped her head round to meet the steel-grey eyes of Ralph Mellor. "Whore, Whore, Whore" the volume rising as other voices joined in. Familiar voices. Voices she'd once trusted, believed in. Max Tyler, Earl Kelly. Melissa, her own sister. The room seemed to spin around her. The volume rose to a deafening level, but she could still pick out the single voice that hurt the most. The same voice that, using any other words, caused a warm flutter in her lower stomach. The voice of a man that had promised her the world. They made eye contact, and this time she had nowhere to hide. She gripped at Philip's sleeve, his expression wild and sneering. She wanted to pull him closer, even as her arms pushed him away. Rachel realised that his mouth also moved in time with what was now white noise.
She awoke with his name on her lips. Arms flailing, still believing she was falling, only this time he wasn't there to catch her. Sweat dripped from her pores as she grasped at the empty covers on his side of the bed. Adam wasn't there. Rachel was glad of his traditionalism in this moment. Glad that he'd refused to sleep in the same bed, share the same space, the week before the wedding. Because it wasn't his name she'd said as she woke. It was Eddie's.