Gabe did make it to the wedding after all.
The church is bathed in the soft glow of sunlight streaming through stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the polished wooden pews. The air smells faintly of lilies and roses, the floral arrangements meticulously placed along the aisle.
Our heels click softly on the expensive wooden floor as I follow behind Eiko, our cousin and one of Liz's bridesmaids, her beautiful dress swishing around her ankles. Avrielle's footsteps fall in rhythm behind mine. Us bridesmaids, wear matching dusty rose dresses that fall just below our knees, simple but elegant, with flowing skirts and cinched waists. It's the kind of dress that allows us to blend into the background but still look cohesive next to Liz in her bridal glory.
Everyone is beaming as they look back at us and my vision blurs by my tears, concealing the faces of everyone- including the one I wanted to see most.
Ahead, the pulpit is adorned with white fabric and flowers, where the priest, Matt, and his groomsmen stand waiting, their faces calm and eyeing our every movement but carrying the weight of the moment.
Bending slightly, I blink quickly so my tears fall directly out of my eyes, and then I blink repeatedly for good measure before straightening up. I mean, I do have swabs in my tiny pocket. Liz ensured this part with the pockets for this very reason, but only she said, "To put the tiniest tissue in." But that would require someone else dabbing at my eyes.
Catching Eiko's eyes, I smile when she gives me a questioning look. It's the, 'Do you want me to swab you' furrow and I answered with a, 'I'm good but thanks' nose twitch. Then I glance toward the guests. Matt's family sits near the front, his parents beaming with pride. His father is dressed in a sharp black tuxedo and tie, while his mother wears a deep emerald gown, her hair swept into a chignon and a tissue dabbing away at her tear ducts.
They are warm people. From the future I mean, I know them to be nice to my sister and sort of hovering but the best grandparents my niece and nephews could have asked for. Unlike our father who became a hermi- no. All is well and we will not think of that because technically it did not happen.
My parents are on the opposite side. My mother, Olivia, looks stunning in a soft lavender dress, and my father, Kenji, wears a tailored tux that complements her attire perfectly but he's absent for the moment, having the honor of giving away his first-born daughter. I mean back in my future he did give Liz away but... without Mom he had become so introverted. He'd become withdrawn and even on Liz's big day, he had still seemed withdrawn. Mine as well. Except mine wasn't like this. Mine was more just the parents and a signed document.
Today, I am excited- overly, to see the man he is today.
Beside them, Linda, Gabe's mother, wears a muted gold gown that shimmers subtly with each movement. Douglas, his father, is in a classic tuxedo. Gabe sits next to them, his dark-purple jacket and tie sharp- gone is the beard. My breath catches as I meet his gray eyes and my stomach swells. His gaze is unwavering and I shift from one stiletto-clad foot to the other, flustered and swallowing with unease because all eyes were on us from the guests. Not Gabriel but us on the pulpit and if- whatever I express right now, everyone will see. It will be on video as my parents hired a videographer.
Clasping my hands together- clammy.
I'd seen his name on the seating cards. G, Adkins. I knew instantly it was him because his father is D. Adkins and his mother L. Adkins. My stomach had been in knots since.
As if sensing my need for rescue, Avrielle grabs my hand and I face her, breaking the electrified hold, Gabriel had on me. I hug my twin. Cole's absence is a noticeable gap, but it doesn't cast too heavy a shadow over the day for her. His name lingers in my thoughts briefly before I push it away, so I am certain he was constantly on Avrielle's, after all, they'd been together on and off for years.
Today is about Liz and Matt, their joy, their vows.
The music shifts- a gentle, romantic melody and every head turns toward the doors, and on their feet as our father enters the arch, his face beaming with pride. Liz's laced-sleeved hand could be seen on the crook of our father's arm.
Flashes of cameras and little noises, mostly murmurs, are heard. Then Liz steps into the decorated arch as well.
My eldest sister looks radiant, in her all-white. The blissful bride. Her dress is a masterpiece of lace and satin, its bodice hugging her figure before flowing into a long, elegant train. The neckline is modest but frames her perfectly, and the veil edged with intricate embroidery catches the light as she moves. She holds a bouquet of pastel-colored roses, her grip steady but her face betraying the excitement and emotion bubbling beneath the surface.
Those who know her well, us, would know this. Those who don't will think she is somewhat emotionless- thanks to our father. Liz takes a lot by him and even his appearance and ways. They're both, reserved and have stoic expressions to outsiders.
Matt's face betrays him greatly and is the total opposite of Liz's as she kisses our father's cheek and whispers, "I love you, Daddy." But when he holds her hand and kisses her forehead, Liz's tears roll down her cheeks. Dad then blinks both his eyes at my twin and I before he makes his way to his rightful place, next to our mother.
This is the wedding we should have had. My eyes tear up again. This is the father all girls deserve to have, with a woman like our mom at his side.
"Avrielle," Matt whispers harshly, and my twin is holding Liz's veil while she bends her head, the same way I had earlier. The guests all awed. Less than a minute later, the other bridesmaids and I are dabbing away with swabs at the corners of her eyes to which the guests laugh, and Liz warms the videographer to edit this part out.
My throat tightens with the weight of my unspoken emotions, and I pull in my lips, finding the blurred outline of Gabriel. Even though I cannot see him, I am comforted, nevertheless.
The ceremony begins. The priest speaks in warm, reverent tones, his words weaving a sense of intimacy among the large crowd.
When Matt promises to love and cherish Liz, his voice wavers just enough to bring a tear to her eye, and she mouths, "I love you." The priest guides them through their vows, their rings exchanged as a symbol of eternity, binding them together as husband and wife.
---
The reception is lively, filled with music from the live performance, chatter, and champagne flowing endlessly. Avrielle is stuck to my side like the traditional twin to which I am grateful. Jenny, the other bridesmaid and Evie, her date, are at our table while our cousin is off getting to know one of the groomsmen whose girlfriend just broke up with him by text message. It's a mess in that corner.
Thank goodness she was here to clean up this mess- Eiko's words not mine. She is not like my father's side of the family. They mostly keep to themselves and are more reserved than my father. Most made excuses- poor ones- to not attend the wedding today but it was expected and not an issue because we have grown accustomed to our father's side of the family, rejection of the 'new-age' lifestyle as they say.
Ah, good old wedding drama. We cannot have one without it, can we?
Since Gabe was not placed next to me, I kept catching glimpses of him from across the room, but our paths didn't cross until he approached me during a slow song.
"May I have this dance?" His voice is deeper than I remember, his tone warm but uncertain.
I nod, and he takes my hand, leading me to the dance floor. His touch is gentle but firm, his hand resting lightly on my waist as the music begins.
We don't speak at first, the silence is filled with the melody and the rhythm of our steps. But eventually, we find words.
"You've gotten rid of the beard," I remark, glancing at his clean-shaven angular jaw.
"And you've refused everyone that asked you to dance- including my father, who by the way did not want to but my mother sent him." He hooded his eyes a bit before he looks behind him at the man crooning.
Giggling at that, I say, "Poor man. The beard." So far, we had been dancing perfectly- not even one misstep. "I've never seen you with one, so it took me my complete surprise."
"It was about three weeks old," he replies, a smirk playing on his lips. "I took a month off, figured I'd let it grow." His hand moved to the small of my back. "You like?"
Not sure if he meant his hand or the beard, I grin. "I dig the whole caveman vibe. It suits you."
His laughter is soft, genuine, and it pulls me closer, making me realize just how much I missed him. Or maybe I pushed myself closer to him- maybe he pulled me in...
As the song ends, I feel the champagne buzz in my head. He leans in, his nose brushing against mine, his breath warm. God, I always loved the smell of this man's breath.
"Jesus," he mutters, right before his lips meet mine.
The kiss is electric, deep but brief, because I pull away, breathless. "We need air," I whisper, stepping back, heart in my throat.