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I took a step, and my heel sank into the grass. I wiggled it out and brought my foot back. “I can’t do it,” I whispered.
“That’s what the stones are for.” Tiffany gently pushed me forward. “Use the path. Go ahead.”
As if it was easy. As if I wasn’t walking toward the most horrific thing I could imagine. I couldn’t do it. Tears flooded my eyes as the spikes of my heels dug into soft ground. The guests, turned in their seats, started to murmur. All eyes except Manning’s were on me, and the music played on, beautiful, haunting. Despite my protests, my hair had been swept off my bare shoulders, putting my heartbreak on display for everyone to watch like a movie.
I started down the aisle. At rehearsal, I’d been reminded over and over to keep the pace of the music. Time slowed with me, an eerie tranquility coming over me the way I imagined it felt giving in to drowning. Corbin smiled at me, his arm over the back of his mom’s chair. Val sat by him, stoic, and I knew her heart beat as hard as mine.
I looked forward again, silently urging Manning to raise his head and look at me. We’d communicated so much that way, glances here and there, our own language. Walking toward him like a bride made my hands sweat around my bouquet. I scraped my thumbnail down a stem, wishing for the prick of a thorn to distract from the pain in my chest. Manning must’ve been sweating, too, because he wiped his brow, then his hairline, but even as I approached the front and took my spot, he still hadn’t looked. Maybe because he knew what he’d see if he did . . . my delicate birdy heart, ripped right down the middle by a great bear.
Through all this, I’d never doubted that he belonged to me. Never wondered if he loved me. He didn’t have to say it for me to know it was true. For over two months, I’d done as I was told, smiling through the pain, making plans to start USC next week. But in that moment, overwhelmed by Manning’s beauty, by the pain I knew he felt, too, I couldn’t remember why I’d stepped back.
Because I was staring at Manning, I didn’t even hear the Bridal March begin, didn’t see Tiffany come out, but suddenly she was there, passing me her bouquet, moving in front of Manning, her back to me.
“Friends and family,” the priest said, “we’re gathered here today to witness the union of Tiffany and Manning, and to celebrate their love by joining them in marriage.”
My heartbeat thundered in my ears. The priest smiled and said things I couldn’t register, things Manning and Tiffany repeated. People laughed. Not Manning. He just stared at Tiffany.
If he’d only glance over, I knew what I’d see in his eyes, because I’d seen it before, in the few raw but powerful moments we’d had the last couple years. I’d see the depth of love that kept him away, the heat that kept him close.
Henry passed Manning the rings. Things were moving too fast. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, put that ring on her finger without sparing me even a glance, I knew it in my gut. On the inside, I screamed for him, convinced he would hear me. He focused on Tiffany so hard as he slid on her ring, he didn’t even blink.
Maybe he didn’t think love was enough, but it was. I knew it was. If he wasn’t going to stop this, I would. For him. I loved him enough to do this on my own. Maybe he’d be mad for a while. Maybe he’d even try to stay away. But eventually, when things had settled, he’d understand why I couldn’t let him make this mistake.
I knew what I had to do, and it had to be now.
“Marriage changes you,” the priest said. “It betters you. It heals you. It will define you as a couple, and deepen your love for one another.”
Now. Now. Now.
Everyone on the lawn watched, rapt. Mom, Dad, grandparents, toddlers, cousins. Corbin winked at me. Val chewed her thumbnail. Gary and Henry, maybe the only two men who’d ever given Manning a fair chance, stood tall and looked on proudly. I would hurt them, too. Everyone.
“Should anyone in attendance know of any reason why this couple should not be lawfully married, speak now . . . or forever hold your peace.”
Two years ago, I dove into a lake at midnight hoping Manning would follow. The world had gone instantly black, deafeningly still, until I’d heard the woozy echo of Manning calling me back. I’d stayed submerged a little too long, punishing him for denying me, wanting him to worry. The silence of this moment was the same. Dizzying. Disorienting. Sluggish but calm. Everything shrunk down to the man in front of me.
