That is, until the hand on my chest starts to slide off, the large diamond on her ring finger catching the sunlight, refusing to be ignored.
And there it is again.
The pinch in my chest. The low swoop in my stomach.
Her eyes follow my gaze, and I swear I see her slowly curving into herself. Her playfulness vanishes; her eyes dart around us,landing anywhere but on me; and her footsteps start to retreat. “Have a good game, guys,” she says to the swarm of players around her.
They all nod and send a thanks her way.
She’s about to step out into the clubhouse via the narrow hallway when she sends a weak smile my way, and suddenly it feels like we’re no longer at Monarchs Stadium.
But rather a looming church as she finally turns and walks away.
Three days. Two hours. And twenty-five minutes.
That’s how long until I have to watch Daisy walk down the aisle to another man.
And apparently how much time I have left before I lose my goddamn mind.
two
MY WEDDING DAY
I CAN'T BREATHE IN this damn dress.
I tried telling Vivian in so many ways that I thought it was too tight.
But my future mother-in-law never listens.
And I never stand my ground.
Maybe I need some air. I’m sure I’d be able to breathe better if I left this stuffy room that reeks of hairspray and burned split ends. Not sure if my hair will ever return to its natural curl after today’s ordeal.
I push open the door that leads to the back of the church parking lot and leave it propped open so I don’t get locked out.
I don’t know why I was expecting a cool, calming spring breeze when I’m in the middle of downtown, where all I can feel is theheat from the building’s air conditioning unit and all I can hear are the sirens of a nearby ambulance.
If I don’t get a full breath in soon, they might have to circle back and pick me up.
I start pacing but stop when I realize my pointy shoes are giving me blisters. Because of course they are.
I look back into the room where my comfy Converses are calling my name. But I don’t think it would be deemed appropriate for me to get married in my scuffed-up Chucks.
A startled laugh escapes me at the thought, and before I know it, I’m bent over with my hands on my knees, laughing uncontrollably.
How the flying fuck did I get here?
The laughter subsides as silent tears run down my face. I need to reel it in before it ruins my makeup, but I can’t find the strength in me to care.
Gosh, I really need to catch my breath. I’m starting to feel lightheaded, and I can’t handle a fainting spell on top of the mess I’ve made.
A wailing noise brings my attention back to the parking lot.
Only to realize it’s coming from me.
I cover my mouth with my hands. The last thing I need is the paparazzi to get a shot of me having a full-blown meltdown ten minutes before I walk down the aisle.
My father and Damien would never let me hear the end of it.
