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Sky Rocket Maxi Dress (The Vampire’s Wife) in oxblood. Very classy.
If she wasn’t (apparently) my best friend and if she wasn’t sleeping with my actual (other) best friend, I’d be insecure about her.
She looks me up and down. “Are you trying to kill him?”
I put my nose in the air. “I don’t know what you mean.”
She ignores me. “Nervous?”
I look over at her, my eyes flick from her to Henry, and I nod.
She slips me a little bottle of vodka.
“Drink this one now, and this one,” she slips it into my bouquet, “after.”
She gives me a little wink as she backs up the stairs. “We’re on your Dad’s side. Middle-front-ish. Towards the left.”
“I don’t care—” I lie.
“He didn’t bring her,” Henry calls as he walks backward up the stairs.
I pause. “I still don’t care.”
He raises an eyebrow and points at me. “Bullshit.”
Then they dart back inside.
“Well, that’s interesting,” Bridget says, sidling up next to me.
“No, it’s not,” I tell her quickly.
She glances at me, annoyed and intrigued.
“No girlfriend?” she repeats.
I ignore her.
(“Very interesting,” she says under her breath, but she’s a mouth breather so it’s very loud.)
The music swells. Ave Verum Corpus.
Bridget starts walking down the aisle.
Then me.
And my eyes are frontward. They do not veer left, they do not veer right. And still, I can feel his eyes on me — he’s to the right of the church, not just because the right side is traditionally the groom’s side, but because I just know it.
That pull we have, the undertow of the universe always dragging us back towards each other, it has to mean something, don’t you think? That great magnetic force I’ve spent the better (or worst) part of a year fighting and defying and I feel it still, my legs trying to walk me back into his orbit — I think it means something.
Or maybe it doesn’t and I just want it to because that would give all our pain a purpose.
I don’t listen to much of the wedding sermon.
They’re all sort of the same, don’t you think?
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it’s not proud. It doesn’t dishonour others, it’s not self-seeking, it’s not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.
But it’s shit. It’s all a lie.
