My oversized pumps flopped against my feet as I raced down the park, their heels clopping against the cobblestone. I could still here the violinist’s rendition Pachelbel’s “Canon”. There was still time. The vine-entwined arch was straight ahead, but it looked miles away. I had to make a break for it. The shoes had to go.
I picked up speed, kicking them off behind me, instantly feeling less restricted. I felt like I could fly and I would definitely need wings to pull this off.
“If there is anyone here who believes that these two should not be united as husband and wife, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”
That was my cue.
I pushed as hard as I could, slowing only when I reached the last row of ivory chairs. I didn’t even take a second to catch my breath. There wasn’t enough time. There was only now.
“Wait! Please!”
All eyes were on me.
I ignored the hush that went over the guests. I ignored the whispers and the stares, both shocked and angry. I focused on him in his black tux with his newly washed hair gleaming in the sunlight and his sharply shaped goatee trimmed to perfection. And his eyes that latched onto mine.
Surprise.
I held his gaze, hoping that he could feel the significance of this moment. Breath in how crucial it was for him to listen to me. How it all depended on him.“Don’t say yes.”
Gasps erupted from the front row. The whispers intensified. David glanced at Miranda, his gorgeous bride to be, who shot me a vicious glare. Her choice weapon. But not even that could scare me away. Not this time.
“I know this is crazy,” I said, keeping my focus on David. “But you have to trust me. You can’t get married. Not today. Not to her.”
“I think it’s time for you to excuse yourself.” One of David’s lacrosse friends rose from his seat and approached me like he was a member of the Secret Service and I was a threat to the president. Or the “princess.” He grabbed my arm in an attempt to drag me away, but I refused to budge. I didn’t run all this way just to get escorted out by a bodyguard in training.
“Let her go.”
All eyes were on David.
I frowned at Mr. Secure the Perimeter as he let go of my arm and went back to his seat.
David turned to Miranda. She glowered back at him with her hand on her hips and her foot probably tapping underneath her white gown. He took her hand and her fist collapsed along with my heart as he locked their fingers together. He looked her deeply in the eyes and said, “I’m sorry.” He stepped down the platform stairs and headed straight for me.
The pieces of my heart strung back together. This was really happening. My dream was coming true.
David lifted me into his arms and I giggled in victory. I floated back to the ground and he wrapped his arms around me.
“Where’s your shoes,” he asked, his smile vanquishing the gloom that overshadowed his face whenever Miranda was around.
“Who cares?” I laughed. He was in my arms. Nothing else mattered. Not the horrified guests. Not Miranda. This was about him and me. Us.
He held me closer and his lips touched my ear. “Did you get number ten,” he whispered.
I pulled back. “What?”
“Did you get number ten?
My daydream dissolved and faded into a classroom. Second period math. David was leaned over at the desk beside me, looking me in the face. He asked me a question.
“Oh.” I looked down at the math assignment on my desk. “It’s 15.”
“Thanks.” He hunched over his desk and scribbled down the answer. We were supposed to be working in pairs but sometime between—I checked the digital watch around my wrist and frowned—2:20 and 3:10, I had zoned out.
It was the fantasy again. The one where I confess my undying love for David just when he’s about to make the biggest mistake of his life. It’s not always about him getting married to the wrong girl. Sometimes he’s about to take Miranda to the homecoming dance or whisk her away to some exotic island. But no matter what the situation is, I always interrupt right before he ruins his life. Something I hadn’t been able to do ever since I found out I was actually head over toes in love with him.
No matter how many times I repeated the same lines in my head about how we’re meant to be and that no one else should come between us, I could never do it in real life. Don’t ask me what I’m so afraid of because I couldn’t tell you. Is it rejection? Possibly. Is it the fear of the unknown? Most likely. Whatever the reason, it’s been holding me back forever and I despise it. But there’s nothing I can do about it unless I take control. So then I’m stuck because I can’t even do that.
Helplessly and frustratingly stuck.
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