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FOUR
~ Samuel ~
I couldn’t get her off my mind. I don’t know how she did it, but we had pulled the dinner off without a flaw. I was lucky that my mom wouldn’t stop talking the whole time. It made us get through it a lot easier. Through it all, Aria remained a pillar and stood by her word about playing the part. I knew that if I were a stranger looking in on the scene, I would have thought we were a genuine couple too.
And now I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
As I drove my mom to church the next day, the image of her in her tight-fitting jeans and red ruffled top had me getting hot and heavy under the collar. I knew that we were only pretending, but the way my body reacted to her was real. It seemed that after all these years, she had blossomed into a woman more beautiful than I had dared to imagine.
And now, here I was. Thinking about her.
We pulled up next to the curb and climbed out. My mom linked her arms with me as we slowly walked up the pathway and into the church. It was the first time we had been back since my dad’s funeral, and it was as though this wave of numbness washed over me as we walked in the front doors. I don’t know if it was a way for my body to shut out the pain, but suddenly, I felt nothing. I looked at the church with fresh eyes, its walls seemingly unfamiliar.
Then there she was.
“Aria? What are you doing here?” I asked.
My mom gave my hand a squeeze before releasing me, “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. I’m going to go catch a pew up the front with the girls.”
I didn’t even feel my mom slip away as, like a switch, the emotions came flooding back. Just being in Aria’s presence made me feel renewed and allowed me to feel everything I needed to. It was refreshing, to say the least. I knew I didn’t have to be strong for her, and I knew she would understand.
“Are you okay?” she asked, with concern filling her eyes.
My face must have portrayed my inner angst as she led me to one of the pews at the back. We slipped into the seats and huddled together. Her ash locks tickled my hand from where she was leaning. I was half tempted to wrap it around my finger, to hold a piece of her for strength.
“It’s my first time back,” was all I could mutter.
“I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through.”
As though sensing my inner thoughts, she reached down and grabbed my hand in hers. Her nails were cut short, neatly kept, and painted white. Her skin soft and petite against my own. I held her tightly, afraid that if I let go, I would fall apart. It was a sort of vulnerability I had never experienced before, and it almost scared me.
“My parents loved this church,” I spoke softly, “Every Sunday, I was dragged out here, up until dad started getting too sick to come anymore. I’ve always helped at the events for as long as I can imagine. It just seems so empty without dad here.”
“He’ll always be here with us in spirit.”
I knew Aria was right, and hearing her say it eased my pain. We may have had a fake romantic relationship, but I knew our friendship was true, even after all these years.
Before I could reply, the sermon started, and we dipped our heads low. Throughout the rest of the service, she stayed right by my side. We didn’t speak other than to join in with the hymns and prayers. When it was over, the crowds huddled at the front to talk to the priest and socialize as they always did. My mother took pride of place by the priest’s side, shaking hands with people as though she were a holy member of the church itself.
“Did you come here for me?” I asked Aria.
She nodded, a gentle blush alighting her cheeks. For a thirty-six-year-old woman, she certainly was looking youthful. Other than the tiniest of wrinkles forming at the corner of her eyes and the edges of her mouth. She could have got away with being in her mid-twenties. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders in loose waves, her soft gray eyes peeking out from underneath thick brown lashes.
“Your mom asked me to come yesterday after dinner when you were clearing the table. She said you would need someone to help you through it. As your fake girlfriend, I could hardly say no. As your childhood friend, I would have been here anyway.”
I couldn’t help but warm to her words. I was just about to ask her if she needed a lift home when I heard my mom hollering from the front of the church. We turned and saw her waving wildly, beckoning us over.
“We had better go see what she wants before she gets any louder,” I laughed, leading Aria down the aisle.
When we got there, just the look on her friends' faces was enough to tell me we had been hooked into a trap. My mom pulled Aria towards her; the woman was surprisingly strong for her age as she wrapped an arm around her. The other women grinned manically.
“Little Miss Aria Taylor, not so little anymore. Look how pretty you are,” one woman cried, pinching Aria’s cheek as though she were still a child.
“Have you told your mom the good news yet?” another asked, “We always knew you two would end up together.”
Oh no. I watched as the color slowly drained away from Aria’s face as she realized our fake relationship had been leaked into the church community.
I stepped in, trying to make some space between her and the oncoming ladies, “Listen, ma, we meant to keep it on the down-low as we figured somethings out. You weren’t meant to tell everyone.”
