I'm a hopeless romantic. I always have been. I’ve forever dreamed of the day when I would meet that special someone and ride blissfully into happily ever after.
But I had come to realize the world didn’t share my idealism. Not everyone was looking for everlasting love. I knew that there were many people who were only interested in a booty call and were more than happy to leave it at that.
But I had finally found love. I was high and comfortable with him at the same time.
His name was Simon. We had known each other forever, since we were babies. Our mothers had always wanted us to be together. But it was always a touchy subject for my father. Because I was black and Simon was half Chinese and half white, my dad always subtly frowned upon the idea of us having a relationship.
But today was my wedding and I was marrying Simon, the man of my dreams.
I stared at myself in the full-length mirror. The long white dress with the lace bodice and the lace sleeves to match. The veil tumbled gracefully past my shoulders.
I smiled and the girl in the mirror grinned back. She was glowing. Her brown skin popped against the white of the gown. I was finally beautiful. I was finally happy.
Suddenly, the doors were flung open. I yelped and whirled away from the mirror, shocked.
Simon stood before me, dressed in only jeans and a T-shirt.
“Simon,” I shrieked, mouth agape. “Why aren’t you dressed. The wedding starts in an hour. And you’re not even supposed to see me before the ceremony.”
I moved quickly, desperately looking for a place to hide.
“No, Yvonne, there’s no need for that,” he said, stopping me in my tracks.
“What do you mean?” I looked at him in confusion.
“We need to talk.”
My heart sank with those four words. I knew what he was going to say. The cold, distant look in his eyes, the determined set of his mouth.
No, Simon. Please, no.
Somehow I gathered the strength to speak.
“About what?”
He looked at me, then looked at the ground, then back at me. “I don’t think we should get married.”
It felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I couldn’t get enough air. Tears blurred my eyes, but I pushed them back as I looked at him. The feeling of betrayal stirring deep within my gut.
“Why?” I whispered, my voice sounded foreign to me.
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Because, Yvonne, we’ve just grown apart. You’re…I mean…I don’t think you’re the one for me. And I’m not…the one for you either.”
I knew what he was really saying.
“Who is she?” I asked him.
Simon looked at me in surprise. “What?” he asked.
“The girl you’re in love with now,” I whispered, feeling drained. “Who is she?”
He looked at me for a few seconds that seemed like hours and finally said, “Kate.”
My jaw dropped and suddenly my knees could no longer hold me up. I fell to my knees in agony.
Kate. My best friend Kate. The girl who was had been my best friend since the first grade. My bride’s maid. My sister from another mister. The girl who never judged me. The girl I could tell anything to.
“You…and Kate?” I gasped.
Simon looked at me, his eyes pitying.
“It just happened, Yvonne,” Simon said to me, frowning. “I love her.”
Those words did it. They made me feel so small and useless.
“Get out,” I said, my voice quiet with rage.
“What?” he looked at me, his eyes widened with surprise.
“GET OUT!” I shouted, throwing my bouquet at him with all the force I had in my body.
He dodged it and sprinted toward the door without a backward glance.
As soon as he was gone and the door closed behind him, my body slumped forward and my face and body hit the ground.
“Yvonne, Yvonne sweetie,” I heard a voice call out.
I couldn’t bring myself to move. I was shocked. I had been stood up a mere hour before my wedding. I closed my eyes and finally realized I was crying. No, not crying, sobbing.
A pair of big brown eyes shifted into my sight. I recognized my older brother Lucas. His eyes held silent fury as he looked at me.
“We heard,” was all he said.
I wanted to respond so badly, but the sobs wouldn’t stop.
I felt a warm, feminine hand on my back and my friend Kayleen spoke.
“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” she said, sounding on the verge of tears herself. “We’ll get you out of here, okay? We’ve already told the guests. They’re leaving.”
I looked toward the window and realized it was getting dark. How long had I been there crying before Lucas and Kayleen had shown up?
I’ve obviously been on the floor for hours crying over that a-----e, I thought to myself as Lucas lifted me into his arms and carried me out.
I concentrated on the swaying motion Lucas made as he walked and the soft clacking of Kayleen’s high heel shoes. I did my best to focus on anything but the burning hole Simon had left in my heart.
TBC.
