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“Lennon?” I frown at him as he jolts his attention back to me, his face flushing red. “And nothing’s wrong, huh?” I say.
“Sorry, babe,” he mumbles, running his hand through his hair. Something I’ve noticed he always does when he’s stressed.
“Tell me, honey. What is it?” I demand.
He shakes his head, still looking at everyone else, except me. “It’s nothing. It’s been a long week, and I’ll be glad when we’re married, and it’s over.” He turns, reaches across the table and takes my hand, wrapping his fingers around mine. I melt at the feel of his touch. It’s amazing how one little gesture from him can make me feel better.
But it’s short-lived when he suddenly yanks his hand away from mine, grabs the menu and holds it up between us, hiding himself behind it. I don’t understand this strange behavior, and breathe a heavy sigh.
“Okay, I don’t know what’s going on with you this morning, but I’m late, and I’ve got to go, I say, somewhat annoyed at him.”
“I’m fine, babe, honestly,” he mumbles, peering over the top of the menu. He almost looks relieved, like he can’t wait for me to leave. I’m confused, hurt even, but I don’t have time for this crap. In the back of my mind, the niggling doubts are beginning to creep in. What if he’s having second thoughts? Should I be worried, or am I reading too much into it?
“Right. I guess I’ll see you later, then?” I say, not even sure that I will. This is probably the last moment I’ll spend with him before the wedding.
“Sure, see you later, have a good time,” he says in a whisper, barely looking up from the menu still held in front of him.
I stand, abruptly, pushing my chair back and walk away. I feel tears welling up, but I refuse to cry. I don’t know what’s going on in his head, but he needs to figure his shit out before I see him again. Nagging doubt creeps over me again, and I so hope he’s not having second thoughts. But if he is, I want to know before I say those two little words.
***
Back in my room, I slip on my wedding dress. I hope by looking in the mirror, all bridal, I’ll find answers to my concerns. I stand in front of the mirror and stare at my reflection, running my hand over the delicate soft lace material. I feel like a princess. Despite the hell of a morning I’ve had already, seeing myself in this dress, I can’t help feeling excited. But what if...
“Holy shit,” Cindy yells as she enters my room and comes up behind me. She touches my shoulder and smiles at my reflection in the mirror. “You look stunning, Darcy. I can’t believe it’s you, and I still can’t believe my best friend is getting freaking married,” she whispers. I laugh, wrapping my arms around her as she buries her face in my dress.
“Uh-uh-uh. If you get make-up on this, I will hunt you down and kill you,” I scold gently. “Why are you crying, anyway? I’m the one getting married. I should be the hot mess,” I tease.
“Because you look so unbelievably beautiful and grown up. Lennon’s not going to know what hit him when he sees you walking up the aisle,” she says, wiping the tears from her eyes.
“Yeah, right,” I say, sourly. “If that even happens.”
She looks up at me, shocked and confused. “What? Why do you say that? What’s going on?” she asks. “Have you guys had a big fight?”
“No. Yes. Oh, I don’t even know, to be honest.” I sigh and sit down on the stool in front of me, careful not to crush my dress. “Last night, he was amazing. Loving, caring, attentive, and this morning… well, we just met for breakfast and he seemed so cold to me, distant, like he didn’t want to be seen with me. Just a completely different person to the guy I thought I was marrying.”
“He’s probably got a lot on his mind with the whole wedding thing, and all the trials you guys have had this week,” she replies. “His parents are here, right? From what you’ve told me, they would be enough to push him over the edge.”
“Could be, but they’ve been here a couple of days already. Now, I’m scared he’s having second thoughts about us,” I say, hanging my head. “Maybe his parents have said something nasty about me?”
