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Besides, I’d much rather just throw it at Bobby.
If he were here…
A soft knock at the door makes me jump, and my pulse throbs against my neck. I run over to the full-length mirror to smudge away any traces of the tears under my eyes. I can’t let them see - not now, not ever.
I take a deep breath. “Come in.” It must almost be time. Mom, Dad, and Kelly are going to walk into this room, and I have to plaster a smile on my face, just like I have so many times before because deep down, I want the same things they want for me. At least, that’s what I keep trying to convince myself.
The door creaks open, but I can’t force myself to look. I wait for the excited shrieks and the ooohs and aaahhs, but none follow. In fact, not a word is spoken. I spin around, my full skirt flowing around me.
Have you ever felt like you can’t breathe? Not figuratively, but literally, like your head is being shoved into a bucket of water? You cannot take a single breath because you know if you do your lungs will fill up and you’ll essentially choke to death? And your eyeballs feel like they might pop out from the pressure? Yep. That’s exactly how I feel at this very second.
“B-bobby…” I whisper.
“You look beautiful, Steph.” His deep voice…God, I’ve missed it. So smooth and melodic. It does things to my body, things it shouldn’t, not when I’m about twenty minutes away from walking down the aisle.
“What are you doing here? You never even responded to the email. I figured you didn’t even get the invite.”
“Kelly called.”
My mouth drops open. “Oh, so if Kelly calls, you respond? You couldn’t be bothered with returning my calls while you were taking your shit international. What makes her so privileged, huh?” I stomp across the room, tiny tingles prickling my skin as I close the distance between us. My body senses his presence, all nerve endings on full alert. Goosebumps pebble my bare arms and my head feels a bit heavy, woozy like I drank more than enough champagne before.
I stop right in front of him. “Tell me why, Bobby. Why’d you listen to her?”
“Because she told me if I missed my last chance with you, I’d always regret it. And I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if that happened.”
He snakes an arm around my waist and gently reaches behind my head, pulling me toward him. His lips graze mine, and an electric charge jolts me, zipping through my insides, shooting out to every limb.
Screw everything else. Bobby Moone is my checklist.
I carelessly nibble at my nail, chipping off the polish, and twist my head to the left and right. “Is the traffic always this bad out here? It’s not even lunchtime.”
“Traffic in LA is horrible at any time of day or night. It takes forty-five minutes to get anywhere.” The Uber driver peers at me in the rearview mirror. “You in a rush or something?”
“Yes.” I chew on another nail and pause a second later. “But I don’t really know why. I feel like it’s too late, anyway.”
“So it’s about a guy, huh?” She smiles and maneuvers around a car since our exit is approaching, though not nearly as fast as I’d like.
“Yeah. And he doesn’t know I’m here, either.” I smack my hands against my legs. “He just won Song Slam last night. Hell, he could still be out celebrating for all I know.”
“Bobby Moone?” The driver’s mouth drops open. “You know him?”
Yes, been in love with him for the better part of five years now. “I do.”
“He’s amazing. I watched the show just to see him every week. I was so excited that he won the whole thing!”
“Me too,” I lie.
“Are you his girlfriend or something?”
“No.” I shift in the backseat and peer out the window at the lines of cars sandwiching our Toyota Corolla. Hurry up and wait…forever.
“But you want to be?”
“I missed my chance.”
“I don’t believe that.” The driver taps the gas and rolls toward the exit ramp. There is just no acceleration here. At all. “I think there are always windows of opportunity, and when the time is right, you take your shot. Maybe it was never right before.”
“Maybe…” Maybe it’s just time I put my needs and wants ahead of everyone else’s. I know my parents want what’s best for me and my career, and I love them for that. But I can’t force myself to be happy living this life anymore. I never should have let him go all those weeks ago. I never should have accepted it.
