I’m dropped off a mere fifteen minutes later and say my quick goodbyes before I stumble inside and lock up behind me. After peeling out of my dress and removing my makeup, I open my dresser drawer and spot the University of Chicago T-shirt that I had stuffed into my duffle bag when I was packing up my stuff the day I ended things with Reese. I should have sent it back to him through Ian when I realized that I took it, but a part of me, a part of me that nobody knows about, likes wearing it to bed some nights when I want to smell him. I don’t wear it often for fear that my scent will overpower his. But I do decide on wearing it tonight. I slip it on and climb into bed, grabbing my phone and opening up my internet search.

While on the dance floor tonight, the Arctic Monkeys song pumped through the speakers and I let myself dance to it, not wanting to give away how badly it killed me to hear it. And as I moved my body to it, I remembered that I never looked up the lyrics and it’s been on my mind the entire evening. So now in the privacy of my dark bedroom, I’m finally looking up the lyrics to the song that reminded him of me.

“OhGod.” I read the lyrics again, and again, letting them sink into me and cursing myself for even looking them up in the first place and for the stupid club for playing this stupid song. “Fuck.” I shut down my phone and roll over, burying my head into the pillow to soften the cries that are coming from me now. Jesus, that song? Really? It’s a song about wanting to be with someone so badly, thinking about them all the time, wanting more with them. Dreaming about them. That song? How could that song remind me of him? I bury my face into his T-shirt and cry harder, trying to push the lyrics out of my head to give myself some relief. I inhale his scent, the scent that is slowly fading and I finally calm myself down enough to fall asleep. And sleep I am definitely going to need if I’m going to survive the next forty-eight hours.

Twenty Two

I wake up a little after 11:00a.m. on Friday and prepare myself for the day ahead. I decide to go on a run by myself today, only wanting my own thoughts to occupy my head and not Joey’s relentless rantings. After my five miles, I lock up shop and head upstairs to shower and get dressed to finish Juls and Ian’s wedding cake. The shop is closed and will be until Monday since we’ve had her wedding to prepare for and I’m grateful for the quiet. I slip on my apron and whip up the cream cheese icing that she requested, admiring the sugared dahlias that I already created to cascade down the cake. I curse myself for thinking of Reese at the sight of them and whip faster. Damn it. What guy pays attention to details like that? I’d put money on Ian not giving two shits about the flowers that took me hours to create.

After icing the cake and cleaning up my mess, I glance at the time on the oven. Its 3:30p.m. and I need to be at the church in an hour and definitely need another shower. I untie my apron and throw it on the worktop before I dart up the stairs. I’ve picked a black sleeveless dress and pumps to wear tonight, pinning half of my hair up and leaving the rest in loose waves down my back. My makeup looks elegant but not too done up and I smile weakly into the mirror as I gaze at my reflection. My dress is hanging off my body more than it used to and I know that’s because I haven’t been eating much. Besides my daily taste tests, I’m having to choke down my meals that Joey has been bringing me, or at least parts of my meals. But at least I am eating. After one last look, I grab my clutch and head towards the night I’ve been dreading.

St. Stephen’s church was Ian’s pick, as was the reception and mostly every other detail for that matter. I park along the side of the beautiful building and straighten my dress out as I make my way to the front steps. Stopping at the bottom and glancing up at the double doors, my nerves hit me in one hard rush and I want to turn right around and get back into the comfort of Sam, but I can’t. I close my eyes and grip the hand rail. “Come on, Dylan.” I pick up my feet and move up the stairs, clearing my throat before I open one of the doors.

The church is beautiful, with dark wood furnishings and stained glass windows allowing the sunlight to shine through in all different colors. Even if you aren’t religious, try stepping into a catholic church and not feeling the presence of something way the hell bigger than you. I glance up at the massive cathedral ceiling and admire the painted murals when I hear Juls screeching my name.

“There you are. Now if Brooke would just hurry the hell up we can get started.” She’s at my side instantly and looks beautiful. Dressed in a deep plum dress and her hair pulled up sleekly, she’s practically glowing. She leans in and hugs me as my eyes glance up towards the bodies at the front of the church. But of course, I didn’t need to look to know that he is here already. I felt him the moment I stepped inside this stupid building. My eyes find his instantly as he stands with Ian and the other men. His lips part slightly and I watch his chest rise with a deep intake of breath. Before I can rake my eyes down his body, I pull back from Juls and break the contact.

“You look beautiful and ready to be married.”

“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself. Come on, my parents have been asking when you’d get here.” She grabs my hand and pulls me up front as I keep my eyes fixed on anyone but his. Luckily, we stop a few pews short of the men where all the parents are congregating.

“Dylan, there you are. Wow you look stunning, dear. How’s the bakery business going?” Mrs. Wicks wraps me up in a hug. She was always like a second mother to me.

“It’s great and thank you. You look amazing yourself. And how are you doing, Mr. Wicks? Ready to give your oldest daughter away?”

He pulls me into his arms and I’m immediately hit with the smell of cigars. “Fat chance. She’ll never get rid of her old man. It’s good to see you, Dylan.”

“You too.” At that moment, the front doors swing open and Brooke comes barreling through, looking like she just woke up and most likely feeling a lot worse. I hear Juls gasp behind me. “Excuse me,” I say politely before I begin quickly making my way down the aisle towards a very stupid looking bridesmaid.

“Dylan. Remember that guy last night?” I grab her wrist and pull her behind a pillar as she tries to get out of my grasp. “Jeez. What’s the big deal?”

“What the fuck? Are you still drunk?” I ask as Joey comes rushing up to us with Juls on his heels. I notice quickly that all talking has stopped at the front of the church and can feel a million pairs of eyes on us.

“No I’m not drunk. I’m just hung-over. Ooohhh which one is Reese?” I grip her harder and she yelps.

“Oh for Christ’s sake. Way to keep it classy, Brooke,” Joey whispers harshly as the preacher walks over towards us. We all straighten up a few inches.

“Are we ready to begin, Miss. Wicks?” He asks and she smiles quickly and nods, glancing back at me with her panicky eyes.

“We’re ready,” I confirm, keeping my hand on Brooke’s arm as we all follow the preacher towards the front. I glare over at her and she cowers beside me as we walk up to the front. “Pull your shit together. And if you act like this tomorrow, I will personally make sure you don’t get laid. I will vagina block the shit out of you.” Her mouth drops open and I hear Joey laugh behind us.

“What? You better stay the hell away from my vagina,” she grunts and my grip tightens.