Page 73 of Strange Love

My carefully constructed smile feels strained as I attempt to look anywhere but at him, but it’s no use. Just like the first time our eyes met, there’s an irresistible pull towards him that I can’t deny. Every nerve in my body is on fire, and I wonder if he still feels the same electricity between us.

The eyes of every guest in the church seem fixed on me, and even though I desperately want to run back in the other direction, I take a deep breath and focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

I reach my designated spot in the front of the church and turn to face the doors I just came through as the processional music fills the air. I can see Corey standing tall and poised from the corner of my eye. Even from a distance, I can see how much he’s changed in the five years since he left this town. No longer a boy, he exudes confidence and charm as a handsome man. His dark navy suit fits his muscular frame perfectly, emphasizing his broad shoulders and chiseled features. He looks like he could be walking down a runway instead of an aisle.

His hair is styled in a trendy fade, short at the back and slightly longer on top. My heart aches as I remember running my fingers through those soft strands of hair. My hands itch as I imagine the feeling.

Standing under the warm glow of the church lights, the chocolate brown eyes that used to sparkle with warmth whenever they met mine seem distant as he stares back at me. My cheeks flush under his penetrating gaze, filled with emotions I struggle to decipher.

He breaks our gaze and turns to watch his cousin making her way down the aisle. I can feel the tension between us, the unspoken words hanging in the air since we last spoke. I regret not reaching out to him before this moment, not trying to clear the air between us.

Now it’s too late, and I have to endure this entire ceremony with him standing a few feet away, able to see the turmoil raging inside of me while I paste on a fake smile and pretend that everything is fine.

The ceremony unfolds before my eyes like a beautiful dream, bursting with vivid colors and fragrant scents that saturate the air. The vibrant hues of the floral arrangements starkly contrast the upheaval within me. Despite my efforts to focus, my mind keeps wandering back to another time when things were simpler and our love was still alive.

At one point, I catch him sharing a secret smile with a woman sitting in the audience. She’s a stunning redhead dressed in a breathtaking cornflower blue gown that complements her striking eyes.

He brought a date to this wedding. Of course, he did. He’s moved on, just like he should have. Like any normal person would do. But seeing it in person hurts more than I ever thought it would. The realization hits me like a punch in the gut and threatens to make me sick right here near the altar.

My hands clasp tightly around my bridesmaid bouquet of tulips, their delicate stems crushed between my hands as I struggle to maintain composure. My palms are slick with sweat, staining the soft satin ribbon wrapped around the bouquet. I try my best to stand still and not fidget anxiously from foot to foot, but inside I'm a chaotic mess of emotions that threaten to spill over at any moment.

The ceremony ends and we all flow onto the perfectly manicured lawn for family photos. The cool evening air offers me comfort and a moment to breathe, which I desperately need.

I spot Corey approaching, pausing briefly to exchange pleasantries and have short conversations with guests. My heart races as I try to guess how he will react when he sees me. Will he acknowledge our past? Or will he pretend like it never happened? The uncertainty is almost unbearable, especially as I try to sort through my feelings for him.

As the bridesmaid group finishes their photos, I step back to give Corey and his family space for their pictures. The other bridesmaids, now aware of our complicated history, exchange knowing glances between him and me. Sascha’s hand slips into mine, a comforting gesture as we watch them capture memories.

“Are we done with these photos?” I ask Sascha.

“I think so,” she responds, “at least for now.”

“I need a drink,” I announce, but a familiar voice stops me in my tracks before I can take more than a few steps.

“Five years later, you’re still running away from me,” he says.

My heart throbs painfully in my chest as I slowly turn to face him - the man who helped me mend my broken pieces, the man who still holds those pieces in his hands.

“I’m not running from you, Corey Delacour.” I try to keep my voice steady. “I was just going to grab something to drink.”

“Great, Ivy Owens,” he responds with a nonchalant shrug. “Why don’t I join you?”

We stand at the edge of the fluttering reception tent, unsure how to break the years of silence between us. Corey adjusts the tailored fabric of his suit jacket, his fingers smoothing out any imagined wrinkles. Meanwhile, I nervously fiddle with the delicate lace on my flowy dress, wishing for a distraction from the tension thick in the air.

The awkwardness between us is suffocating, and we struggle to make small talk. The bartender stands patiently behind the bar, his eyes flitting expectantly between us as he waits for our drink orders. Corey requests a beer while I opt for a flute of champagne.

As we wait for our drinks, I catch a whiff of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers from outside, reminding me that this is supposed to be a joyous occasion. But with Corey standing next to me like a stranger, I can’t help but feel sad amidst all the celebration.

With our drinks in hand, we face each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. My mind is racing, trying to find the right words to say.

“The ceremony was beautiful,” I finally manage to say awkwardly, breaking the tense silence between us.

Corey chuckles and shakes his head, clearly feeling just as awkward as I do.

“How are you?” he asks, exhaling the breath he was holding.

“I’m okay,” I reply with forced cheerfulness. Most days it’s true, but today feels like a lie. And I think he knows it too, but we continue to play along.

“This is kind of strange,” Corey remarks.