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A throat clears. “Uh, I just wanted to let you know that I’m right here,” David says and I turn to see him in my doorway, holding a glass of water and what I’m guessing are a couple of painkillers in each hand.
I burn in embarrassment. “Perfect.” I wave my hand towards him as if to prove my point. “Can you just go please, David?” Save yourself all this trouble. I want to say. I see his face fall and eyes flutter in surprise and sadness. My heart aches and I instantly regret my words. I can tell that he sees that regret all over my face.
“Ana,” Maddie says quietly, scolding me.
“No,” David says, and I look at him in surprise. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I stare him down and he levels a look right back at me. I’m glaring at him but he’s not glaring back. He’s looking at me with certainty, with that warm affection but covered in resolve. Maddie whispers about going to the bathroom and excuses herself from my room.
“You should just quit while you’re ahead,” I say, and my tone is harsh. Challenging. I pray he calls my bluff.
“No.” He walks over and holds his hand out and I lift mine up to receive the small pills. I pop them in my mouth and he hands me the glass of water. “I’ll leave right now, if you need some space. But I’m not leaving for good. I promised you that I wouldn’t leave you. If I leave now, I’ll come back with dinner later.” We stare at each other, “Do you want me to go?” he asks. None of his words sound rude or pointed, just matter of fact. Conversational. Sure.
I look at his face—one that’s become so familiar. One I’ve truly grown to long for and miss when it’s not around. His eyes bore into mine and I find myself whispering, “I don’t want you to go.”
He lets out a short breath and says, “I was hoping you would say that.”
“I’m glad you’re still here. I’m glad you came,” I admit, feeling so vulnerable as I say these truths out loud. Part of me wants to push him away, like I've done to everyone for two years now. But there is another part of me that is begging to hold on to him, to close the distance and to say the words that my head keeps denying.
“I will always come,” he says. “I will always be here for you.”
I stare at him for a moment before saying, “Why?”
He sighs and sits on the edge of my bed. “I don’t think you’re ready to hear the real reason yet.” I furrow my brows, not sure what he means. He continues, “But I’ll tell you a few of the other ones. In the glimpses you’ve allowed me to see of you, I’ve seen such unshakable strength in the midst of so much despair. I see resilience and grace. I see the way you love your friends and by the way you talk about your family, I know you love them fiercely too. You are breathtakingly beautiful, in and out. Your strength astounds me. Your confidence inspires me. You are incredible, Ana,” he says, and I find my lungs are out of air. Am I breathing? “I told you that I’ll be whatever you want me to be, and I meant that. But I’ll always be here for you. I promise.”
I watch him in awe. I feel my eyes well up as I let his words sink into me and cover me. I let them soothe more of those broken and jagged edges, noticing that there’s fewer and fewer sharp pieces left. I let his words into my heart just a bit and find that they fit in there nicely. I quickly move and wrap myself around him and he immediately holds me close to him. We embrace for a long time, my ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, before I pull away and hold his face between my hands. I lean in and kiss him. It feels like the natural thing to do, the right thing to do. His hands grip my back, anchoring me to him and he kisses me back wholly but gently. We continue like this for several moments before he pulls away and leans his forehead against mine.
“Thank you,” I whisper. He moves his hands to hold my face too.
“Always,” he says.
FIFTY-EIGHT
THEN, SUMMER, TWO YEARS AGO
It turns out, even when you’re Madeline Hart’s maid of honor you don’t get to do much because Madeline Hart already has everything planned out and likes to do everything by herself anyway. I accompanied her to the bakery and the dress shop, even though she knew exactly what kind of cupcakes and dress she wanted. We both went with Elliot to pick out his suit, and she knew exactly what kind of suit she wanted him to wear. The only thing that they spent a lot of money on was a photographer because they want the best pictures to remember their best day.
The first few weeks of June fly by, and before we know it it’s Madeline’s wedding day. We wake up in her childhood bedroom at her parents’ house. We blast our favorite songs—singing them at the top of our lungs—as we get ready. Her mom, Helen, pokes her head in but can’t stay longer than five minutes before she starts crying.
I curl and style her long blonde hair in a loose half up hair do. Her makeup is just a tiny bit heavier than she would normally wear, but still natural and light. It’s not until her mom and I are helping her into her dress that she starts to really get emotional.
“I swear, Madeline, if you ruin all of that makeup,” I playfully scold her.
“I won’t. I won’t.” She sniffs. “I’m just so happy.” Her watery eyes cue her mom’s watery eyes and then all of us are on the verge of crying.
“No crying yet,” I laugh and yell. We’re able to pull ourselves together enough to get her into her dress. It’s white with lace and chiffon. It drapes and flows and makes her look ethereal. Her shoulders are bare where the sleeves hang off them just slightly. The bodice is a bit tighter but still draped with the flowy fabric.
“Madeline,” I whisper, taking her in. She smiles at me, those green eyes bright with the lingering tears. “You look so beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she whispers back and hugs me tight. I’m wearing a simple light pink long dress with my hair styled up. This June humidity does not mess around and I’m not playing its games today.
We hold each other's hands in the backseat of her parents’ car on our way to the park near her parents’ house. Her dad is already a blubbering mess. Back at the house he took one look at her before he turned around and walked out of the room.
They park and we all get out together. We walk past the willow trees and ponds, the wildflowers and tall flowing grass, and follow the stone path to the clearing. Hayden is there with my parents. Maddie’s few family members are mixed in, standing and smiling as they see us walk towards them. They indeed kept it small, just a handful of people—the ones that mean the most to them.
When we reach everyone, I find Hayden’s eyes are already on mine. His smile is sweet and full of affection. I wink at him and he closes his eyes, and I see his chest rise and fall as if he’s taking a deep breath. I laugh. Everyone gives Maddie hugs before we make our way over to the area just a bit away that overlooks the whole park. It gives you a view of the willow trees, the flowers, the water. And standing in front of a big willow tree with his back turned is Elliot. His gray suit is pressed and polished. I can’t see his face yet but I know exactly what I’ll find when he turns around. Next to him is the pastor—a sweet older woman with a genuine smile on her face. I make my way towards Hayden, and I grab his hand, planting myself next to him.
This really is the most informal wedding ever because the small crowd is standing and forming a makeshift aisle. The only people that will be at the front are Maddie, Elliot and the pastor. The wireless sound system we were able to set up is playing soft music. When an instrumental version of Maddie and Elliot’s favorite song starts to play, I take a deep breath and look towards where I know Maddie and her parents are walking from. She’s holding her bouquet, various white flowers with her favorite tiny blue ones mixed in, and her arms are hooked between both of her parents. Her dad is smiling, face wet with tears. Her mom is holding her tears in. I turn to look at Elliot who is now turning around.
