Blissful Tragedy

by Amy L. Gale

  Sydney and Bryce tell cute and funny stories about their relationship as we enjoy an exquisite meal of glazed ham with all the fixings and berry pie for dessert. I slump my shoulders and look down. Am I the only person at the table without their significant other? These sweet stories are making me miss Van. I’m quiet throughout the night and specifically avoid my parents. I’m sure they’re dying to say something about me being alone.

  It’s just about eleven o’clock and time to retire to our rooms. Everyone needs a good night sleep before the big day tomorrow. I can’t wait to hear Van’s voice again. It’s like we’ve been apart for an eternity. My fingers dance across the buttons as I dial his cell phone.

  “Hi there,” he says in his sexiest voice.

  My heart races and my body tingles, aching for his touch. “Hi. How’d the show go?”

  “Great. Seattle fans rock, I promise to take you here sometime soon.”

  “I’m definitely holding you to that, Mr. Sinclair.”

  “Hey, we got some exciting news, but I don’t want you to get upset.” He exhales loudly.

  My head flinches back slightly. “Well, I usually don’t get upset from excitement. So what is it?”

  “We’re offered a show at the Key Arena, opening a two hour set for Cryptic Mayhem.” His voice trembles.

  “Wow, they’re the biggest metal band around! I can’t believe you’re not more excited. Why would you think I’d be upset?”

  Van sighs and clears his throat. “The concert is tomorrow. There’s a last minute cancellation which is why we’re offered the gig. A show like this can push us mainstream,” he pauses, “It looks like I won’t be able to make it to Savannah.”

  I gasp, a river of tears stream down my cheeks. My night has gone from bad to worse. Nausea flows through me and my breathing becomes fast and irregular. My hands shake, barely able to keep the phone to my ear. I sob so hard I can barely get air into my lungs. A tightness forms in my chest along with an ache in the back of my throat. I’m dizzy; my lungs constrict making it difficult to breathe. Spots flash through my vision. Is it possible to physically feel your heart break?

  “Lexie, are you there? Please say something.”

  How can he do this to me? He promised he’d be here. No, this can’t be happening. I grind my teeth and my body tenses. “I’m here.”

  “I promise I’ll make it up to you. If it was only me I would blow off the show, but I can’t let the guys down. They depend on me.” His voice is shaky, full of desperation.

  My hands ball into fists and my nostrils flare. My pulse speeds as my muscles quiver. Is this what my future holds, empty promises? There’s no way I’m going to be anyone’s silver medal. “Well guess what? You let me down instead. I left my family, my friends, my life to travel with you for months. I would drop anything for you, I’d do anything, and you can’t even keep your word to be here for me the one time I ask? If I can’t count on you, what do we have?”

  He exhales loudly. “Please, can I talk?”

  “I think you’ve said it all.” My voice cracks as I break into sobs. “There’s nothing you can say or do or buy to change the fact that you’re breaking your promise and bailing on me.” I take a deep breath and clear my throat. “I just can’t do this. We’re over.”

  I slam my phone shut and throw it at the wall. Tears flow down my cheeks like an endless ocean. I bring my knees to my chest and cover my face with my hands. A painful tightness forms in my throat. My perfect life has taken a tragic turn. I get it, his career is important and so is mine, but trust is essential. If he can’t keep his commitments, what does that say? My mind wanders back to the groupie on the bus. Oh God, if he breaks one commitment, will he break others?

  Brooke can’t even give me a pep talk. What would she tell me? Things like, ‘You’ll find someone better’. Clearly that isn’t true, no one can compare to Van Sinclair. I’d rather spend my life alone than be with someone else. Isn’t he my soul mate, the one person who’s perfect for me?

  I’ve been sucker punched. My body curls in a lump as if all the wind has been knocked out of my lungs. I wrap my arms around my body, trying to hold myself together and take a deep breath. I need a half decent excuse so I’m not totally embarrassed tomorrow. Maybe I can say his flight is delayed.

  My mother will be gloating, since she and my father are just waiting for Van to screw up. I’ll wait to tell them that we broke up when I’m safely back at my apartment. I’m in no mood for the I told you so speech all weekend.

  I open my eyes and look at the clock. Six a.m. Wow, I literally cried myself to sleep. I’m such a cliché. I turn on the TV to occupy my mind with something other than Van. Of course I fail. Within seconds, tears stream down my face. How can I live without him? I’m fated to know I can be electrified by a touch, to be breathless from looking into the most beautiful emerald eyes, to have my body come alive, and to be damned to never feel that way again. It’s like living in hell on earth. There are no more tears left to shed. Why am I still sobbing?

  I stare at the clock until seven. I better turn my cell phone back on in case Brooke or Sydney is trying to get in touch with me. I flip it open and examine the screen. Thank God, it didn’t break. It chimes continuously. I have forty-two missed calls from Van, but no voice mail messages.

  Knock, Knock.

  It must be time to get my hair done. I wipe my face for the millionth time and pull open the door.

  Brooke jerks her head back and wrinkles her brow. “Are you ok? You look like you have pink eye.”

  I rush to the mirror. My eyes are swollen, red and puffy. If I were stung by a hundred bees I wouldn’t look this bad. “I must be allergic to something.” I can’t come up with a better answer at the moment.

  Brooke tips my chin toward her and examines my face. “Come on, let’s hope our make-up artist can work wonders,” she says as she leads me downstairs.

  Sydney wants my hair in an up-do of formed curls with soft tendrils hanging down. I wear a tube top so I can slip it off without messing my hair when it is time to get dressed.

  Cynthia gasps as she walks behind me. “Oh my, Alexis! What is that desecration on your back?”

  What’s she talking about? Oh, she’s referring to the tattoo on my shoulder blade, clearly visible with my hair up. Great, another thing to remind me of Van, and this one is permanent. My stomach clenches. “Don’t worry; we can airbrush it out of the pictures.”

  Cynthia walks away with a look of disgust on her face. I can already foresee some fierce battles between Sydney and Cynthia in the future.

  Our make-up artist can work magic. She does a fabulous job of hiding the huge bags under my eyes. I grab a few crackers and go back upstairs. Soon it will be time to get dressed. I clutch my arms to my chest and take a deep breath. When should I tell everyone that Van won’t be coming?

  Knock, Knock.

  Sydney bursts into my room with tears in her eyes. “Look, the whole bottom hem has come out of my dress. I can’t walk down the aisle like this. What am I going to do?”

  At least there’s one thing I can repair. “Calm down. We can fix this. I promise you will not walk down that aisle any less than perfect. Ok?” I find a bunch of safety pins in the drawer and start fixing her dress, hiding the pins in the lush satin. When I finish, the hem looks perfect.

  “You’re my savior!” Sydney hugs me tightly.

  I squeeze her back. “You make a beautiful bride. I’m so happy for you.”

  Sydney smiles at me. “Don’t worry sis, I’ll return the favor on your wedding day.”

  My smile slowly turns into a frown. That day may never come. It’s just about time to head downstairs. I pull on my peach chiffon dress and touch up my make-up. My heart hammers. Ugh, I have to tell everyone about Van when I get downstairs. I wait as long as I can.

  Knock, Knock.

  “Oh no, did the hem fall out?” I pull the door open and my jaw drops.

  “Wow, you look absolutely beautiful,” Van say
s as he stands in front of me in the doorway.

  My heart pounds and tears well up behind my eyelids; my muscles weak. I throw my arms around him and start to cry. He steps into the room, closes the door behind us, and wraps his arms around me, holding me tight like he’ll never let me go.

  “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I promised you I’d be here and I’m here now. I hope it’s not too late.”

  “It’s not too late. It’s never too late.”

  “Please don’t cry. I want to make you happy, not sad. I love you, Lexie.”

  “I’m happy. I’m so happy you came here for me.” The warmth of his embrace erases the pain. The familiar sparks that I feared I’d never feel again encompass my body as Van runs his fingers along the top of my back. He presses his forehead against mine, and slowly kisses my lips.

  “Lexie, we’re meeting downstairs in five,” Brooke calls, pulling me out of my moment of bliss.

  Van holds me tight in his arms. “I hope there’s time for me to change. I’m pretty sure Bryce’s mom would have a heart attack if I showed up to the ceremony in jeans.”

  I chuckle and wipe my eyes. “I have to get some pictures taken. The shower’s the last door on the left and your clothes are in the closet,” I say, still clinging to Van like he’s my lifeline.

  He pulls away, lifts my chin and places a long, sweet kiss on my lips.

  How could I have doubted him? He does keep his commitments. He is my soul mate!

  I grasp his arm as he starts walking toward the door. “I love you.”

  He steps forward and grabs both my cheeks, planting a knock-your-socks-off kiss on my lips. I’m breathless, my knees shaking. He flashes a quick smile and leaves the room to shower.

  I glance in the large hallway mirror on my way downstairs. Do I need any make-up touch ups after our emotional reunion? I actually look pretty good. It’s amazing what love can do for one’s complexion.

  I pose for more pictures than a Hollywood starlet. Finally, I escape the wedding paparazzi to meet Van as he makes his way down the stairs. My heart races as I stare in awe. Wow, he does wonders for that suit. I’ve never seen him in clothes other than T-shirts and jeans. Boy, was I missing out. He looks like he just walked off the pages of a magazine. My eyes travel across the charcoal grey suit up to a white shirt and silver and black tie. His hair is combed back, bringing more attention to his sparkling emerald eyes. My eyes widen and my heart pounds against the walls of my chest. Please don’t let me faint. Van Sinclair is mine and I am the luckiest girl in the world!

  I shoot a death glare at two girls who are expressing the things they want to do to him in a not-so-lady-like way. Where’s Cynthia Thomas when you need her? My mouth falls open, rendering me speechless as Van walks up to me and places a sweet kiss on my lips, putting his arm around me. I fight the sudden urge to throw the finger to these girls. Today is a day to act like a lady.

  My mother does a double take as Van and I walk out to the garden where the ceremony will take place, hand in hand. She turns to me and smiles approvingly. I introduce Van to my extended family. Amazingly, not one of them did or said anything to embarrass me.

  Everything’s absolutely perfect. Bryce even sheds a few tears when he sees his beautiful bride. Dad grips Sydney’s arm and holds her close as he walks her down the rose-petal filled aisle. He’d never admit it, but he doesn’t want to give away his little girl. Would he feel the same way if it was me up there, walking toward Van? My heart flutters. Ah, to be Van’s forever. My eyes flock to him like a moth to a flame. They travel over his still damp hair, each strand perfectly placed, and his gleaming emerald eyes staring right back at me. Our eyes lock, trapping each other in our perfect world. How can I spend a second away from him? Spending eternity with Van isn’t even close to long enough.

  Cheers and claps fill the air, slamming me back into reality. I jerk my head back and get my bearings straight. Sydney and Bryce skip down the aisle, stopping to smooch every few minutes for the photographer.

  Cocktail hour starts immediately after the ceremony. Perfect timing, I can use a drink tonight. A few more pictures and I’m a free woman. Now I can focus my time on Van. Do I have enough self-control to keep my hands off of him until later?

  I notice several women staring at Van. Oh, hell no. Not tonight. I sneer and press my lips tight. I walk up to him, kiss his lips, and pull him into an embrace, claiming him as mine. I put up with enough of the groupies on the road. Dean, Brooke, Van, and I find a table in the back and have a few drinks while we’re being served hors d’oeuvres.

  “Lexie, it looks like you better eat up. You’ll need your strength to take out all the women staring at your man,” Brooke says as she sips her appletini.

  “These girls are nothing compared to the groupies on the road, and I have better things to save my energy for than that.” I pop a grape in my mouth.

  Dean furrows his eyebrows and flashes a grin.

  Does he think Van’s going to entertain him with tales of groupies past? Yeah, not going to happen. I shake my head and banish the negative thoughts from my mind.

  By the time my maid of honor duties are fulfilled, cocktail hour lasts about thirty minutes. The night is flying by and it’s already time to proceed into the grand ballroom for the reception. The band announces the wedding party and introduces Sydney and Bryce as a married couple. They emerge into the ballroom to the theme from Star Wars. Who knew Bryce was a closet sci-fi nerd?

  I get chills as everyone stands and claps for the newly married couple. I turn my gaze toward Van and freeze. He’s staring at my face. Heat spreads across my cheeks as a smile forms. I pull him close and rest my head against his arm.

  We dine on surf-n-turf as sweet melodies from the string quartet set the mood. After dinner, another band plays party music and we all hit the dance floor. Van’s an exceptional dancer. Mom stares at him as his feet glide across the wooden floor. I cross my arms and squint.

  She looks at me, jerks her head, and turns away. I chuckle. Caught red-handed. I should’ve known his body can move on the dance floor based on the way it moves in other places. We sway to the slow songs, sweetly kissing as we stare into each other’s eyes. And I thought my high school prom was special. Van makes everything astonishing.

  This night exceeds all my expectations. Van’s proven to me and my entire family that he keeps his promises. My face is sore from smiling so much, but I just can’t hold back my blissful joy.

  Van takes off his jacket and tosses it on the back of his chair. “Want another drink? I’m thirsty from all this dancing.”

  “I’ll have a Cosmo,” I say, swigging down the last few drops from my glass.

  As soon as he walks away his jacket chimes. Should I check it for him? Maybe it’s something important. I pull out the phone from his pocket and glance at the screen. It’s a text from Chaz.

  I cover my mouth with my hand.

  If you don’t answer your fucking phone I’m going to smash you with it when I find you.

  CHAPTER 19—CHOICES

  I quickly slide Van’s phone back into his jacket pocket. His decision to keep his promise to me has clearly caused some friction with the band. I pin my arms against my stomach, trying to suppress the nausea. Am I the most selfish person alive? I forced him to choose.

  My eyes lock with his as he approaches me carrying two drinks. How can he keep this from me? It must be eating him alive inside. I twirl my hair around my fingers, hoping the dance music drowns out the pounding of my heart.

  “Miss me?” His fingers brush mine as he hands me my Cosmo.

  “Every second you’re away from me.” I sip my drink, trying to work up the nerve to broach the subject.

  Alcohol has been known to give me liquid confidence. No need to let Van know I looked at his text. I don’t want him to think I have trust issues. I’ll go with another approach.

  “I haven’t talked to Jenna since I left Utah. I better call her soon or she’ll kick my ass the next time I see her.�
� I take another slug of my Cosmo and set the glass on the table.

  Van rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe you should wait a few more days. Regina just gave us a list of deadlines for the new album. Everyone’s on edge. Jenna’s super bitchy.” He sips his drink.

  I laugh, playfully smacking his arm. “I didn’t know she could get any bitchier.”

  He’s not laughing. Instead he looks at me with an empty smile. Ok, time for the truth.

  I put my hand on his and wrinkle my brow. “Is something wrong?”

  He looks down at the table and takes a sip of his drink, tapping his fingers on the glass. “Everyone’s pissed at me because I left them high and dry when I backed out of the Cryptic Mayhem show. As far as I know we’re not speaking and I think that includes you and Jenna.”

  I take a deep pained breath and close my eyes. Why am I so selfish? Not only did I drive a wedge between Van and his band, but I also caused a group of best friends to fight. My stomach knots. Yeah, I can see why he doesn’t want me to call Jenna; I’m the villain in this scenario.

  I place my hand on top of Van’s, gently brushing his fingers. “I’m sorry. Everyone should be pissed at me, not you. I need to realize that you can’t always be here with me, and that’s just the way it is.”

  He looks up at me and places his hand on my cheek. “You didn’t do anything wrong. If I make you a promise I should keep it. You should be able to count on me. If I have to make a choice, it’ll always be you.”

  Tears well up in my eyes. How did I get lucky enough to find a man like Van Sinclair? My insides flutter. And I may have just ruined his career and cost him his friends. What the hell is wrong with me? I have to fix this before it gets out of hand. I never want him to resent me and causing his band to break up is definitely grounds for resentment.

  “Come on, the wedding’s just about over. We’re going upstairs and I’m calling Jenna. We’re resolving this before it goes any further and then I’m going to show you just how much I appreciate you and everything you do for me.” I take Van’s hand and lead him upstairs to our room, closing the door behind us.