It seems I may have underestimated what is going on between Rachel and Dominic as just a crush on her part. It appears as though the feeling is reciprocated.I have been staring at them for the last ten minutes as they were engrossed in their own conversation that Alec and I were not a part of. Seemingly too concerned with each other to remember that we were even there.“I thought this was supposed to be a meeting.” I say to Alec next to me.“It is.” He says, much too absorbed in the endless options on the dessert menu— even though we hadn’t even gotten our entrées yet— to even notice the two lovebirds at our table.“Then why do I feel like we are third wheeling their date?” I ask just as Rachel giggled at something Dominic said. Full on dainty schoolgirl giggle. A sound I haven’t heard her make since she was actually a schoolgirl.Alec finally looks up from his food quest to look at them and then me. “We don’t have to be third wheels, this could be like a double date.” He smiles.“Yo
Sunday came way too soon.I found myself sitting in the pews of the very same church I got cheated on in. Sitting in the row behind my parents. Close enough that people would assume the image of a perfect family that my mother wanted to portray, without having to sit next to her and subject myself to her direct scrutiny.Sunday mass has been a requirement that I did not miss fulfilling. Mass once a month and on major holidays; a requirement borne out of my duty to my brother, and no one else.If it were up to me I wouldn’t be here; not in this specific church, at least. I would have loved to completely sever my ties to my family’s public image. But when I tried, my mother absolutely hounded George, demanding he make attempt to drag me to this and that social event by my hair, kicking and screaming, if he had to. He’d always defended me against her, rebuffing her demands, but I could tell it really wore him out; and that made me feel bad. He shouldn’t have to suffer for my social fat
I did get a text from my mother soon after I left the church, but I didn’t open it. What good would that do anyway? I already know what it says. She probably just sent a long winded text about how I embarrassed her and our family. And she, more than likely, is ranting about how my non-wedding put our family in this position in the first place and a whole other manner of unhelpful things that I just don’t want to see. Opening up her text would just make an already emotionally exhausting day even shittier. And this week was going so well. At the risk of jinxing it, I will admit that I had been feeling different lately. I wasn’t just distracting myself. Emma had been basically forcing me to “deal with my shit”, as she’d put it, for the last month. I can’t say that it was comfortable, it was hard as hell, but I need it. It feels like tearing down a building block sculpture you spent so much time on because some of the pieces came out or don’t fit right anymore. So now it’s time to
Alec She likes to say that I am a bother, but I don’t think she minds my continued presence as much as she says she says she does. She thinks I don’t notice all of the shy smiles she tries so hard to stifle behind that polite porcelain demeanour she presents to everyone else. I suppose I should be honoured, she only seems to let her mask slip slightly when she is with her friends, perhaps a little more in private settings but I wouldn’t know. I would like to, though. But I can’t. I’m supposed to be honouring her request for professionalism, not barging into her office every few days for impromptu conversation. Truthfully I don’t know why I’m doing this. A part of me feels obligated to check on both sides of this burnt bridge. Cam for obvious reasons, but I feel compelled to check on Dariana as the only one in my family who hasn’t completely written her off— aside from Rory. But Rory and Cam aren’t on speaking terms, and she’s the only person other than me who knows about
“Cheers to the world’s most beautiful bride!” Exclaimed Emma, who is my maid of honour. The room erupted in cheers as everyone raised their champagne flutes. “Thank you, thank you.” I said, feigning shyness at their attention. I was so exited, today is my wedding day! I had been meticulously planning this day for the past eight months and dreaming about it for so much longer. I was marrying the love of my life, surrounded by the people we both love. Life was good. Me and my bridesmaids were all in one of the church’s prayer rooms that had been converted into a dressing room for us to do our makeup and get ready. The same had been done on the other side of the church for the groomsmen to get ready in.This cathedral was massive and it sat at the heart of our city. Getting ready here was a better option than doing so off-site and driving here as there was bound to be traffic with all the guests coming in coupled with regular afternoon city centre traffic.“I still can’t believe this
“Rory, what’s going on” it was a stupid question really, anyone with eyes eyes and more than two functioning brain cells could probably correctly guess what had happened. But I didn’t want to assume, there was no way this stupid cliché could actually be my life. I was internally crossing my fingers in hope that there was a reasonable alternative to the explanation that my head is already conjuring up. “Baby, listen to me; I can explain—“ Camden began, before Rory cut him off.“When I got to Liz’s car I could immediately tell something was up. The car was moving a bit so I knew that there was someone in there. The closer I got, I could see clearer through the window and I could tell Liz was… bouncing up and down.”A huge lump began to form in my throat, and I closed my eyes trying to ward off the images that that phrase branded onto my brain. “I went to knock on the window, as a joke” Rory continued, “and to tell her and the– at the time– mystery man to hurry up. I knocked on the win
The reception was in full swing. It actually was beginning to take the form of a fully catered rager. Since all the elders thought it would be in poor taste to celebrate a wedding that never happened. So it was just us– mostly– youngins.After I spent over an hour having what can only be described as an actual mental breakdown in the prayer room (aka the bridal dressing room) I had to face the reality that there was an entire cathedral full of people waiting for something that was not coming.I sent Rachel out to inform the people that the wedding was off. No details, just that due to unforeseen (damn near fraudulent) circumstances the wedding would not be happening; but they were welcome to enjoy the reception. I’d be damned if I was gonna let the open bar I paid so much money for to go to waste. Emma, the angel that she is, did all the heavy lifting when it came to re-organising the venue and catering so that the big round tables were cleared, and replaced with bar tables to make m
“Anyway, my point is the character wasn’t worth shit. I might as well have picked according to status.” I said, swirling the ice around my drink.“Well, luckily for me I figured that out a long time ago. Long before I would’ve found myself hosting one of these.” He proudly declares.“Oh, is that why you’re a bit of a slut?” The words come out before my brain has an opportunity to register them. I slap my hands over my mouth, embarrassed by what I just said. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. That was so rude, I wasn’t thinking.” I say from behind my hands.“That’s okay.” He laughs, “yes, that is why I am a bit of a slut.” He was clearly enjoying this a bit too much. “Though I wouldn’t say I pick according to status. I’m more of a appearance kind of guy, myself.” “If I decided to forsake character, that would probably make it on my shortlist. That would probably be the only way you’d make it, since you Blackburn men are probably all the same.” I say, probably getting too comfo