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Ruthless by Kira Blakely (44)

* * *

It’s real. It’s all real.

As I sit in the corner of the pristine bride’s room inside the church, my bridesmaid – Dash’s cousin, Fiona – arranges the flowers in my hair.

“Are you okay, girl?” Fiona wonders, tugging at my braid. “You look a little sick.”

“N-no, I’m fine,” I lie to her, thinking I might throw up right now. “I’m fine. There’s just a lot going on right now.” All the deep breathing in the world isn’t going to stop my heart from beating out of my chest, and my eyes blur with involuntary tears. “Everything is just starting to sink in. That’s all,” my voice hoarse from the lump in my throat.

I can’t believe I’m about to do this. I feel my heartbeat in my hands and feet. In my lips.

“This whole wedding is so grand and so beautiful,” I tell her, voice trembling. A hot tear spills down one cheek as I speak. “There are, like, four hundred people here, and none of them even know who I am.” I laugh a little at the insanity of it all. “This is all really happening.” I swipe the tear track from my cheek, probably smearing the makeup. “It’s all real. Everything but me.” I drag in a breath through my clotted nostrils. “I’m a fake.”

“Could you hold that thought right there?” Fiona asks as she stands up, sounding high-pitched and nervous. “I need to get more pins for your hair.”

Then she rushes towards the door and is gone.

My shoulders sag. Finally try to open up to someone about all this and she bolts.

Alone, I get out of the chair and walk towards the full- length, gilded mirror, standing in front of it.

In the glass, I see a thirty year old woman in a designer, mermaid-style wedding gown. The mix of beaded satin and chiffon hangs off my shoulders and hugs my waist before flowing around my legs like a cascade of clouds, rustling and billowing with even the slightest of movements. Her face is pale. Her lips are a glossy pink. Her eyelids glitter. Her hair is braided, the strands woven together seamlessly, intricately, little white flowers in between. Strings of diamonds hang from her ears.

Is that me?

I run my fingers over my heart-shaped pendant, the only thing I have that belongs to me, a remnant of who I really am.

Oh, what have I done? Am I really going with this? Am I really going to throw myself away so that I can make my mother happy? She couldn’t even be here today. She’s too weak from the chemotherapy, and it’s all being livestreamed to her, but it’s not the same.

Maybe it’s a good thing. If she was here, she might see through me and figure out I’m a phony.

Everything about this wedding is perfect except me. I’m not really a bride. I’m just a scared, foolish woman. I don’t belong here. I don’t want to be here.

I don’t want this.

Suddenly, I hear a rap on the door. “Janine?”

My heart stops. It’s Dash.

“Janine, are you alright?” he asks beyond the door.

“No,” I tell him, fighting back tears. “I don’t think I can do this.”

He falls silent.

For a moment, I think he’s left, my heart sinking. Then I hear the door open softly, closing behind Dash who is now in the room.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I tell him, wiping a tear as I hide my relief.

“I want to be.” He walks towards me, turning me around and placing his hands on my arms. “I want you to know that you’re not alone.”

“But I am.” I shake my head as I look at the floor. “I am alone. We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s wrong and it’s—”

“Shh.” Dash grasps my chin gently so that his eyes, calm as a misty lake, are gazing into mine. “I know you’re scared, Janine. I know this is all too much and that you think it’s all a big mistake. But you’re not alone.”

He catches one of my tears with his thumb then strokes my cheek.

“I’m here. We’re doing this together.”

I shake my head, looking down at my hands. “I don’t know. I just feel so overwhelmed and…”

“Look at me, Janine.” He takes my hands.

I lift my head slowly, my gaze taking in his crisp, white shirt, his tailored tuxedo, his impeccable bowtie, his cleanly shaved chin, his slightly parted lips, and finally, his livid eyes. My breath catches. My heart goes still.

Just like that, the whole room disappears and it’s just Dash standing in front of me.

“There may be a lot of people out there,” Dash says, squeezing my hands. “But this wedding is between you and me. Only you and I know what’s at stake. Only you and I matter.” Don’t think about anyone else. Just think of me. Just look at me. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Then his hand is gone. He walks away slowly, still facing me then just near the door, he turns, opening the door and leaving the room without another glance, another word.

He’s said all he needs to say.

I turn back towards the mirror, taking a deep breath as I gaze at my reflection.

“I’m back,” Fiona announces as she enters the room. “And I’ve got the pins.”

She walks over to me, putting them in my hair along with the remaining flowers.

“The ceremony’s about to start.” She puts in the last pin then places her hands on my shoulders. “Are you ready?”

I nod.

I still can’t believe that woman staring back at me is really me but I’m no longer afraid. I still don’t know if this arrangement is going to work or if it’s the right thing to do but I’m not running away. Dash is waiting for me at the end of that aisle.

At the thought of him, I smile, a flurry of excitement washing over me amid the sea of doubts and fears.

This may not be real. This may be just a business deal, but at least I still have Dash.

As the music starts, I square my shoulders, grab my bouquet, and walk towards the door.

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