When Stars Collide

by Sara Furlong-Burr

  8 … 9 … 10.

  My foot took the first step down the walkway lined with dogwood trees. A light breeze blew through the branches, sending ivory flowers floating down to the cobblestones, creating something of a natural aisle runner. In conjunction with the late afternoon sun’s rays snaking their way through the branches, it was an image I wouldn’t soon forget. So pristine was it that I felt guilty for having to sully it with the heels of my shoes. The scene was magical, so fairy-tale-esque, that I didn’t want my walk to end and my anxiety to take over once more. But of course, it did end.

  Before I knew it, I’d reached the beginning of the aisle, where Luke stood at the end, looking just as nervous as I felt. He perked up when he saw me, nodding with approval. As I knew they would, I found my eyes wandering away from Luke, landing on the man standing directly next to him. Our eyes locked at precisely the same moment, and we held our gaze right up until the moment I reached the end of the aisle to take my spot next to Violet.

  I wished now that I would have told him about everything that happened between Phineas and me. Maybe then the glimmer of apprehension I saw on his face would have been replaced with all the passion, need, and unequivocal love I used to see whenever he looked at me. Perhaps then we could both be enjoying ourselves. Or maybe not. My uneasiness was so overwhelming I wished I had a bottle of Tums stowed away in my pocket.

  Joyful murmurs broke out among the wedding guests, interrupting my thoughts, when Jackson walked down the aisle with the curly-haired flower girl. He looked every bit as dapper in his tuxedo as his father, projecting an aura of confidence that far exceeded his years. Also like his father, he was entirely undeterred by the people around him. He was transitioning into Peter more and more each day. Someday soon, he would be the same snide, awkward, yet incredibly sweet jerk I’d fallen in love with.

  When Jackson reached the end of the aisle, I crouched down and held out my hand to him for a high five. All too eager, he happily obliged, slapping my palm with such gusto it elicited laughter from the audience. As he walked to stand next to Peter, I looked up to see Amanda smiling at me from her seat in the audience. This whole she and I getting along thing wasn’t exactly something I was going to get used to anytime soon, but with time, it would happen. It had to for Jackson’s sake. Next to Amanda sat Gwen Damsky, Mark’s wife and Alex’s mother. With her work schedule, it had been hard for her to make the journey down to Virginia, but I knew her attendance meant a lot to Elle.

  Next to me, Luke gasped just as the chorus heralding Elle’s arrival began playing. At the end of the aisle, Elle stood with Tom on one side and Mark on the other. She walked slower than usual to accommodate Tom, who was doing all he could to maintain his stride. Tears formed in my eyes, just as they were forming in those of the other guests. From my peripheral vision, I noticed Luke rubbing his own eyes with the back of his hand.

  I reached out my hand to Elle as she approached Luke, taking her bouquet from her so that they could join hands while they made the ultimate declaration of their love to each other. Whether or not I had to do anything else, like straighten out her dress, offer her words of encouragement, or a tissue—which surprise, surprise, I didn’t have—I didn’t know. As far as maids of honor go, I was pretty much the worst ever. I’d be willing to bet my left boob that Violet had tissues tucked away in her dress pocket. Hell, she probably had Tums in there, too.

  Luke moved over just enough for me to catch another glimpse of Peter. Visibly uncomfortable, he stood as straight as he could, occasionally having to correct himself whenever he began to slouch. I wondered what was going on inside of his head, whether his thoughts were as disjointed as my own. He remained transfixed by something off in the distance, and I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder to see what it may be. Finding nothing, I turned back around and sighed.

  “Luke and Elle will now exchange the vows they have written for each other.” Suzanne must have woken up on the right side of the bed this morning, as her disposition was leaps and bounds cheerier. Either that or she’d already partook from the open bar. “Luke, we’ll begin with you.”

  Luke cleared his throat, finding Elle’s face behind her veil. He was trying to hold it together, but I sensed his resolve cracking. Elle’s had long since crumbled and turned to dust, blowing away with the same breeze that had swept the dogwood blooms across the cobblestone walkway.

  “Sloan, you had me the evening I first saw you in that hole-in-the-wall coffee shop we used to visit downtown. I’d gone there that day to focus on the term paper I’d put off writing until the last minute, but when you walked in the door, all I could do was focus on you. I tried to resist the pull I felt to you; the beautiful brunette intently working on an assignment of her own. But try as I might, I couldn’t take my eyes off you. Well, that is to say, when someone else’s head wasn’t in the way.”

  The audience chuckled as I raised my hand, remembering that day as vividly now as I had the day after. I was sitting across from Elle at a table in the coffee shop working on an assignment, completely unaware, at first, that I had been obstructing the annoyingly handsome blond’s view of my best friend, thus interrupting his foray into light stalking. A boyfriend was the last thing Elle had wanted back then, having just come from an abusive relationship. Still, despite that, even she felt a pull to Luke the second they locked eyes. She could feel it so much, in fact, she’d packed up and left the coffee shop in a hurry, dragging me along with her.

  “When you abruptly stood up from the table to leave, I knew that I couldn’t let you go without talking to you, even if it meant scrambling out of the building to run after you like a crazy person. I didn’t know what I was going to say or how I was going to say it. The only thing I knew was that if I could just get you to say one word to me—whether it be hello or buzz off—I would have left feeling like the luckiest man alive.

  “When I finally caught up to you outside, and you looked at me with your breathtaking hazel eyes, time stood still. I forgot who I was, where I was—why I was. And you know what? It didn’t matter because all I cared to remember at that moment was you. From that point forward, you were the only thing that mattered to me … well, you and my family … and Monroe, of course.”

  “Aw, thanks, man,” Peter muttered with a smirk as Luke reached back to smack him playfully on the shoulder before he continued.

  “Little did I know then that I would have eighteen incredible months with you—laughing and talking, crying and loving you in ways I’d never loved anyone else before. It was all too good to be true. I often wondered what I’d done to deserve you—I still do. And then things slowly began to unravel, and I lost you. At first, I was positive it was only temporary, that you would make your way back to me and everything would go back to the way it was before. However, as the days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, I realized the unthinkable had become my new reality. I’d lost you.”

  Luke’s voice cracked. He paused mid-speech, taking a moment to gather himself, clearing his throat before picking up where he’d left off.

  “I was so angry with myself for not fighting for us—for not bringing you back home to Roanoke. Because I didn’t fight, I spent the next decade of my life stumbling through each day, throwing myself into my work to forget about everything I’d lost. Little did I know, that would be an impossible feat. No matter what I did, no matter what I accomplished, my life was always lacking something. It was lacking you.

  “I told myself it wasn’t you, but I was only lying to myself. I was a broken man who would never be put back together again, because as hard as I tried to convince myself otherwise, the pieces of my heart were still with you. Then the accident happened.

  “Many people—okay, probably all people—would consider nearly losing their life and being placed in a coma for a month to be pretty unlucky. Not me. That accident was a blessing. It was the best thing that could have happened to me. It brought you back into my life.

  “Elle, when I woke up from that coma
, the only thing I could remember was you. And you know what? I’m okay with that. I’m okay with having lost ten years of my life. Yes, I’ve regained certain fragments of it here and there, just enough to remind me how miserable I truly was. And If I never completely regain my memories from the time I lost, I’ll be okay with it, because I don’t want to remember my life without you in it. By the grace of God, I’ll never have to.

  “So, Ellen Rae Sloan, I vow to you that for as long as I draw air, I will never take the time we have together for granted. I’ll be your listening ear, your shoulder to cry on, your lover, friend, and your biggest supporter. I vow to never let us go to bed angry with each other, to exercise patience, even when it feels like I don’t have any left. I promise you that I will better myself every day to ensure that I’m the husband you deserve, beginning with remembering to put the toilet seat down when I’m finished in the bathroom.”

  “And picking your clothes up from the floor,” Elle interjected.

  “Yes, and picking the damn clothes up from the floor.”

  “And remembering to put the toilet seat down.”

  “Now let’s not get carried away here.” Luke chuckled. “Above all, Elle, I promise I will never stop loving you for the rest of my days.”

  A tap on my shoulder alerted my attention to Violet, who, sure enough, was standing behind me holding tissues in her hand for me to give to Elle. Damn Violet and her always planning ahead bullshit.

  “You wouldn’t happen to have any antacids tucked away in your pocket, would you?” I muttered to her.

  “No, but I have a bottle of tequila in there.”

  My eyes darted down to the bulge in the pocket of her dress that faced away from the guests, finding myself a combination of stupefied and impressed by her ingenuity. “We’ll revisit that later.”

  I discreetly brushed the tissues across Elle’s arm. Without looking back, she took them from my hand and proceeded to blot her eyes underneath her veil.

  “Elle will now read the vows she’s prepared for Luke,” Suzanne announced when it was clear that Luke had nothing further to add.

  Still crying, Elle dabbed at her runny nose. She then began to speak, immediately stopping when she discovered how unsteady her voice had become. After taking a deep breath, she started to speak again, but then stopped when her voice wouldn’t cooperate.

  “Luke, I think you just broke Elle,” I announced, rubbing her shoulder.

  “Yeah, that is a pretty hard act to follow,” Suzanne chimed in.

  I imagined Elle shooting a death glare at her. At least, that’s what I would have done.

  “Luke,” Elle’s voice came out remarkably steady and resolute, like her tears had washed away all of her uncertainty, uncovering a confident resolve, “when you came into my life, I’d all but given up on people in general, and men, especially. The only person I trusted in the world was Mena, and I was okay with that, because I felt safe that way. The less people I allowed myself to get close to, the less they could hurt me. At the time, I’d come to think of that as normal, even though it was anything but. And then you came into my life and you showed me the sort of kindness and compassion I’d only ever read about in books. For the first time, I was beginning to have hope for the future. But I was a broken person, and in the end, my self-doubt took over. I left you, thinking that I was doing you a favor, that you would be better off without me and the dysfunctional existence that had molded me into the person I was.

  “I was wrong, Luke. So very wrong.

  “So, I lived—no, I wasn’t living, I existed. I existed over the next decade of my life in a world without you, settling for less than what I deserved while convincing myself I was happy when I wasn’t. Then, by some twist of fate in this cosmic universe, you and I were brought back together again. At first, I thought I was being punished for the way things ended between us. It was a way for me to make amends to you and move on, but I should have known better because there was really no moving on without you, Luke. And I truly believe we were brought back to each other again because I was finally ready to become a whole person, to quit running from life and embrace the fact that I am deserving of love.

  “So, Luke, I vow never to shut down the lines of communication between us. I promise never to run away when my insecurities get the best of me. I’ll continue to work on me to rebuild what life tore down those many years ago. For the rest of our days, I’ll be your partner, your best friend, your biggest cheerleader. Together, we’ll make it through both the dark and the light, for you are the love of my life, and thank God, I’m yours.”

  How she was able to keep her composure, I had no idea, as I was nowhere near the vicinity of keeping my shit together. Elle’s progress over the last two years with reconstructing—or constructing, really—her sense of self-worth was impressive. I’d always known she’d had it in her, and the sense of pride that coursed through my body was overwhelming.

  Blinking back my tears, I turned my head away from the audience just as a tap on my shoulder diverted my attention to Violet. Ever attuned as she was, I expected to be met with a wad of tissues but found a miniature bottle of Jose Cuervo pressed into my palm, instead.

  *****

  Hand in hand, Peter and I entered the tent set up for the reception right as the DJ announced our arrival to a host of applause from the guests. It was the second time we’d walked together since the ceremony, arms interlaced in one way or another, and about the one hundredth time since the ceremony that I’d felt a palpable tension between the two of us. This tension first presented itself when Peter and I followed Luke and Elle down the aisle arm in arm after the ceremony. It lingered through the photographs and, apparently, would now be joining us for the reception. I’d first attempted to engage Peter in conversation—only small talk, nothing substantive—as we’d walked together up the aisle. He’d acted polite, answering my questions and acknowledging my statements about the wedding, the weather, and all the other fillers one comes up when trying to start a conversation. But his answers had come in the form of one-word responses, with an occasional grunt or nod of his head thrown in for good measure. This time was no exception.

  The moment we each acknowledged the crowd with a polite wave—vehemently drilled into our heads by Violet, especially the fact that ‘Our wave had to involve all five of our fingers up in the air and not just one’—Peter dropped my hand like he was afraid he was going to contract something from me and proceeded to head to his spot at the wedding party’s table.

  Stunned and a bit hurt, I followed behind him, taking a seat in my chair next to Elle’s spot. Peter was only three chairs away, yet he may as well have been seated on the moon for as distant as he was being.

  Great. Just as I’m ready to tell him that I’ve decided to leave New York and start a new life here with him and Jackson, he pulls this. I really should have told him how I felt before the wedding.

  What if that wouldn’t have mattered? He seemed to have made a decision of his own; one that definitely didn’t involve me. What do I do now, return to New York with my tail tucked between my legs? Tell Phineas I’d broken his heart for nothing? Phineas had left the door open for me to return to him in New York, but I knew I couldn’t do that. As long as I knew there was a chance with Peter, no matter how insufferable he could be, he was it for me. And I knew I was it for him, too. Damn that ridiculously handsome son-of-a-bitch.

  Peter stared straight ahead, completely oblivious of everyone and everything around him. I stared at him, hoping that he would turn his head and we could have the conversation we needed to have sooner rather than later, but it soon became apparent that wasn’t going to happen.

  Fine, then I’ll just start the conversation. But how to start? Would “What the fuck, Peter?” be too aggressive? Probably, yes, but it would get the point across a hell of a lot quicker than, “Gosh golly gee, Peter, maybe you could spare a moment so we can have a little chat?”

  Okay, so maybe something somewhere between the former
and the latter. All that mattered was that I said something.

  “P—” I began, but just as my lips puckered together to make the ‘P’ sound, Salvatore showed up at the table with a beer for Peter and the two began chatting together like they were old buddies.

  Okay, so it is just me.

  “I’m so glad this day is almost over,” Violet announced, slumping down in the chair next to me. “Whoa, is everything okay?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered. Clearly, my face was mirroring the irritation going on inside of my head. A poker face I had not. “Do you think homicide violates proper wedding etiquette?”

  “I … uh … I … probably?” She shrugged.

  “Chill, Daffodil, it’s a joke. The better question is whether you still have any of that pocket booze left?”

  Winking, she reached into her pockets, pulling out a half-dozen miniature bottles of alcohol. “Would you like peach schnapps, rum, or more tequila, perhaps?”

  “The schnapps will be fine, thanks.”

  Violet grabbed the small bottle of schnapps, hesitating before handing it off to me. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait until after your toast? You may want to have a clear head and all.”

  The look I must have given her was enough for her to abandon ship on that idea and plunk the bottle in my outstretched hand without any further questioning.

  “So, are you ready for your speech?” she asked, testing the waters. “Do you have it written down?”

  “Written down? Psh …” I twisted the cap off the bottle and took a swig. “It’s all up here.” Much to Violet’s horror, I tapped the top of my head.

  “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  “I don’t know about you two,” Kirsten flopped down on her chair, promptly kicking off her heels and resting her swollen feet on the table, “but I’m so ready to blow this popsicle stand and crawl into bed.”