Can she see how much she means to me?
How this is killing me?
I pour a thousand thoughts and emotions into that glance. I take every single desire I’ve ever had for her—for us—packing it into that stare and shooting it her way.
Knowing that I shouldn’t.
Knowing that it won’t make a lick of difference.
Well the fuck aware that it’ll just make things harder for the both of us.
My face is singed by her stare for another moment until she turns her attention back to my brother, correcting herself as she seemingly remembers that he is her groom. He is her intended. Not me.
I school the gives-no-fucks attitude right back onto my face, and carry on as if this is something I’ve done a thousand times before. Like I’m currently in the process of having my hair clipped at the Barber’s shop instead of having my heart ripped to shreds in front of an audience.
I hear the minister say, “We are gathered here today...”
Then, I check out. I shut myself off to my surroundings right as the ceremony begins. Only it doesn’t work. Not entirely. I might be shutting out my surroundings, but my surroundings are probably less painful and confusing than the shit playing out in my head. A mini-montage of the past few months plays out as I try to pinpoint the turning point. The exact moment for when everything went wrong.
Yes, I’m actually standing here in the middle of my brother’s wedding ceremony, obsessing over my relationship with his soon-to-be wife and how I could have done things differently. Could I have altered the future by changing part of my past—theoretically of course— so that it was me standing here with her saying our vows instead?
Every single moment of our history is presented to me on its own individual slide, each one pushing itself under the microscope of my scrutinizing eye.
Like every other story, ours begins at the beginning.
Love on the Rise: Book Two of The Against All Odds Series Page 34