Voices could be heard behind the thick wooden door just at the back of the church. Menservants where unrestrained as they walked back and forth the walkway. You could tell that they were drawn to whatever was happening behind the mahogany door.
"Patrick keep your voice down. You're making this worse." A woman dressed in a nude gown with her hair pinned up in a bun hissed at the young man in a suit whose scowl was prominent.
"And how exactly? We both know that there'll be no wedding."
The woman– Vanessa– and Patrick kept glaring at each other till another woman emerges after knocking twice.
"We still can't find him. We've called home, his house, even checked his place of work. And his cell keeps going to voicemail." Dressed in a nude dress similar to that of Vanessa, this lady wears her shoulder-length brunette down. Her eyes zoom sympathetically on a figure clad in white, sitting calmly staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her gray eyes are darker than usual with uncertainty.
"Tara." Patrick calls out softly.
"What if something happened to him? Could it be he ran into bad guys?" Tara looked at her friends from the mirror. Her eyes pleading they hold on with her. He'd show up. She's sure of it.
Patrick rubs his hand on his face like he always does when something pisses him off.
"I'll go speak to his friends. They'll likely know something." Patrick says and storms out.
Vanessa turns to the other woman,
"Ginger, how about a glass of water?"
"Of course. I'll be right back." She says and scurries away.
Tara sits still, her eyes focused on her hands while her mind runs amok. Lance wouldn't really stand her up would he? He'd been excited just as she was. They even spoke last night. What could have changed?
"Tara, hey, I'm sure there's a good reason he's late."
"Are you? Really are you?" Tara raises her head to lock misty eyes with Vanessa who's now standing beside her; not sure if she's asking herself or her friend. Vanessa stays silent and just hopes In her heart that this doesn't become a nightmare for her friend.
Minutes later, the door opens again. Patrick and Ginger– who's holding a glass of water– appear. Patrick's tie is undone just like his expression.
"I spoke with Luke. The closest to him. Lance had doubts about the wedding. However, he said he wasn't going to be calling it off. Looks like he did. In the most cowardly way." Patrick scoffs.
Vanessa's hand tightens on Tara's shoulder and Ginger steps forward with the water but Tara shakes her head and stands, squaring her shoulders. With a deep breath, she turns to face her friends.
"Let's go."
"Go where?" Patrick asks bewildered
Vanessa is now on her feet, lending support to her best friend since childhood.
They've all been friends since little.
"To call off the wedding." Tara says monotonously
"I can do that–"
"I'm not a child Patrick. You don't have to protect me all the time. I appreciate your genuine concern as my friend but this is my responsibility." She turns to Vanessa, "Let's go."
"Lead the way." Vanessa says as she makes way for her friend feeling proud and heartbroken at the same time. Tara had always been the strong one in the group. The reliable one. Why does this have to happen to her?
Vanessa subtly wipes away a tear when she falls behind Tara who moves with determination. If Tara wouldn't cry, neither would she. She'd remain strong. She gives a warning glare to Patrick as they pass, to stop being a prick and start being a friend.
Patrick returns the glare for a second before his face softens and he heaves a sigh, his shoulders sagging in defeat. He'd never trusted that Lance guy. He knew that guy never deserved a finger on Tara. But what could he do? He'd just be here for her. Always.
At the corner of his eye he notices Ginger's eyes on him. He turns and she blanches like she'd been caught redhanded.
"What?" He croaks
"I always knew you felt more that friendship towards Tara. Why would you not just say it?"
"Because it doesn't matter." He says and walks out, not bothering to check if she's coming. Ginger stands with the glass in hand, her eyes longingly staring at the door even after he'd disappeared into the walkway. Her voice is barely audible when she says,
"Just like mine don't really matter."
Tara walks briskly into the church. The pews filled with people, the priest at the altar with few menservants. Eyes turn and soft muttering could be heard but she didn't care. She felt a soft pinch on her waist, Vanessa's way of support.
She turns to address the crowd when she gets to the altar but a sight brings her to a halt. There he is. Lance. Walking in hurried strides towards her, his hair and tux so out of place as though he had been running. More mutterings ensue.
"Hey," he says breathlessly, "sorry I'm late." He continues in a soft voice. His face is red and a shin of sweat could be seen on his forehead.
"What happened?" Tara asked softly, cradling his face in her palm as she examined him. Any trace of the hard woman from before dissolving into nothing. Lance turns to kiss the inside of her palm, his hands on her waist.
It's so obvious that they have forgotten the world or people around them.
"Let's talk about that tomorrow when we are man and wife."
"Luke said you had doubts. Lance if this isn't –"
"What? No!" Lance's voice goes up a bit. "I'll never doubt having you in my life or as my wife. You're it for me Tara. No one. Just you." His deep browns lock against her grays; gray eyes he loves but not as much as he loves her. All of her. His hands reflexively tighten on her waist when he notices her eyes doing that thing they do when she begins to second guess something. They don't look at him but his forehead.
"Tara please... I'll tell you everything as soon as we are done with the party." He pleads, desperately.
"Did you..." She swallows, "Did you cheat on me?"
"Tara, I'd rather loose my life than do that to you. You very well know how I feel in regards to men like that. I loathe my father for doing that to my mother. I'd never... Look at me," He uses the tip of his fingers to gently grip her jaw. When he's sure she's really looking at him he continues,
"I'd never do that to you. I'm not promising never to hurt you because we both know that'll be a lie. You'd hurt me and I'll hurt you but never intentionally. We still have our differences. What I tell you is I'll try everything possible to make you very happy with me. For life. I just want to keep you happy."
Tara stared at him for a moment. His eyes are on her, waiting for her answer. It feels like deja vu. Like when they first met and he asked her to the dance floor. He was brutally honest just like he is being now. She nods.
"Okay." And gives a soft smile.
A grin takes over his face as he moves to hold her hand and they both turn to face the priest who with a raised brow asks if they're done wasting his time.
"We're ready." They both say.
"Shall we all rise..." Comes the voice of the priest.