“Can everyone just be quiet?” I snapped. My sister and two cousins stopped their chatter instantly, looking over at me with confused expressions.
“Mother, I can put the dress on myself. I have a headache and I just want to be alone. Can everyone just go down to the lake, please? I'll be down there when I'm ready.”
The girls murmured to each other as they grabbed their things and shuffled out of the room. My mother bent over and laid a hand on my shoulder. “Lilly? Is everything okay?”
“Yes. I promise. I just want to savor the moment alone, and I think the silence will rid me of the headache.” I watched her look of concern in the mirror as she hesitated before nodding. I wasn't the type to snap. I had taken the wedding in relative stride up until this point, perhaps because it wasn't the thing I wanted more than anything. So I gave myself permission to put my feelings first for a moment before I was about to put the feelings of my future husband before mine.
“Okay. If you need anything . . .”
“I'm all ready to go. I just have to slide on this dress,” I assured her.
She nodded once more before leaving and closing the door behind her.
The headache instantly dulled, but there was still an ache. And I knew why. I hadn't so much as caught a glimpse of Bobby since the attic, and I wondered what he was doing—if he thought that letting me do this was a mistake. I just wanted to see him one last time before I was Rory's forever. But there was no time. The area was spread out and I didn't know where he was or whose company he was in.
I tried not to cry and ruin my bridal makeup, so instead I walked aimlessly around the room taking deep breaths to hold in the panic, hoping some magical escape would find me. Still restless, I plopped onto the vanity stool.
I wasn't ready to put on the dress. That would make my fate too finite. I still held onto hope. There was still time for things to change. I looked over to my dress, hanging from the wardrobe door, its delicate ivory lace and satin shimmering in the afternoon sunlight. But to me, reaching for that gown felt like reaching for my own straightjacket. My eyes moved over to the veil. The finest handmade French lace, designed to sweep my shoulders. That seemed like an easier starting point. Less suffocating than the full body embrace of a gown. I reached for the box and opened it at the vanity. I pulled out the fabric, as thin and fragile as butterfly wings, and slid the comb into my hair. It cascaded down my nape. The lace caressing my shoulders should have felt reassuring, like a dear friend comforting me. But I felt each thread, each fiber, scraping against my soft skin like microscopic razors. Nothing felt right.
No one imagines they'll wear a white on the saddest day of their life.
Then there was a knock on the door.
“I said I'd be there!” I shouted.
“Lil. It's me,” Bobby's voice called from the other side.
I ran to the door so fast I almost tripped, whipping it open. My smile met a serious face, as if he were preparing for a funeral rather than a wedding.
I now saw Bobby through a new lens that I couldn’t remove. Even in this distressing moment, my mind took notes of how strikingly handsome he looked, dressed formally for the wedding.
He cleared his throat. “Wow. You look . . . beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“Uh, Rory asked me to personally deliver this,” he said, handing me a small box.
“Oh.” I grabbed it out of his hands. “Come in.” I stepped aside as he stepped in just enough for me to close the door. He was trying so hard to be the good brother, I felt his restraint strangling him.
I opened the box. Inside was a small card. It read:
To my Lilly, the most beautiful flower in the meadow. I can't wait to meet you down the aisle.
It was sweet and heartfelt. Those were the things about Rory I loved. He adored me. And I thought that was enough. Inside the box was a necklace with a lily charm at its center. It was pretty, but I didn't want to put it on. It would be another step closer to never having Bobby again.
I looked up at Bobby as the necklace dangled from my fingers. He was leaning against the wall by the door, his arms and legs crossed as if he were trying to reign himself in. He was dressed in a grey morning suit, his normally tousled hair slicked back. He wouldn't look at me.
“Bobby, I can't do this,” I muttered, my eyes brimming with tears.
As if my words ripped off the shackles of his loyalty, he looked up at me and said soberly, “I don't want you to, Lil.”
I placed the necklace on the vanity and walked up to him. “What are we gonna do?”
Bobby scrunched his face. “This is all so messed up.” He riffled his fingers through his hair, ruining the style he had groomed for the wedding. “Listen. I couldn't stop thinking about it today. And you just left without saying anything. I thought you thought it was a mistake.”
“No . . . never. I just couldn't say goodbye.”
His eyes turned down as if he understood precisely what I meant. But then he looked back up with me, with the last bit of resolve he had left. “My grandparents each gave us rings. They're heirlooms. One on my mother's side, one my father's. They keep them here in a jewelry box. I grabbed the one that I was supposed to give to someone one day. I want you to have it.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, confused by the implications of this gesture.
“Let's go. Let's get out of here. We can take a car and drive as far as we can go until there's no gas and then we'll call. We'll tell them the truth,” he said frantically.
My heart soared and dipped over and over, realizing Bobby hadn't given up, but understanding that his words were that of desperation.
“They'd probably disown us. We don't have money on hand.”
“So what if they do? Lil, this is it. Once you go down that aisle, there is no coming back.”
He pulled the ring out of his pocket. Rimmed with a gorgeous silver filigree, a pale apricot circular stone sat nestled in the center, encircled by tiny white diamonds.
“I know, I know.” I shook my head. Everything was changing so fast and I just needed to breathe. I needed more time.
“If you don't want to . . . if you love Rory more than me, understand I want you to stay. I won't ever hold it against you.”
“No. I don't. Not even close.”
“I just want you to know that. If there is anyone other than me I would want you to be with, it's him. Okay? But if you don't. If you want to go. I'll leave it all behind. We can travel. I'll support us. I'll fix cars, construction, whatever.”
“I don't know,” I said. “This is crazy. I want to be with you, but I don't know if I can do this.”
Bobby slid the ring on my finger. “It's yours no matter what,” he promised.
“I love you, Bobby. I thought I could try to forget last night and go back to Rory. But, I can't.”
Bobby pulled me to him by my waist, pressing me against him, and kissed me so hard that if I wasn't being held, I'd topple over. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back.
“Don't go, Lil,” he pleaded, kissing my lips, my cheeks, my temple, as if this were the last time his lips might touch me.
I reached down to the waistband of his pants. He grabbed my wrists and looked over his shoulder. “What if —”
“I told them all to leave and not come back.” That was the truth, but secretly, I hoped someone would find us. That I wouldn't have to look Rory in the eyes and tell him. If there was a god, this would be the sign. Someone would find us and tell on us and we'd be shamed, but we'd be free.
He brushed my veil off my shoulders, cupped my face in his hands and dipped lower to kiss me, drawing on my lips with gentle bites. I stumbled back to the vanity, knocking over the jewels and makeup which rested on it as Bobby hoisted me onto its surface. We rushed. Me hiking up my slip, Bobby undoing his trousers. No matter what our fate, there wasn't much time left before we would run or stay.