Only in Dreams(6)

“As I’ll ever be,” I reply with a smile, scooping up the paper bouquet in my hand and stepping forward to take a hold of his arm.

The door swings open the rest of the way, and I emerge from the closet-sized room. Emmie is waiting for us at the huge entry into the sanctuary, a smile on her face stretching from ear to ear. She rushes over to me, kisses my cheek, and offers words of encouragement in an attempt to soothe my nerves. I know it is in vain—my nerves will not be tamed—it’s simply who I am.

“I love you,” I say finally. A true and honest statement, the purest thing I can muster in that moment. We walk together, stopping just before the double doors, the light from the stained glass windows dancing across our skin. My eyes shift, and I watch a purple glimmer on my elbow. I stare as it slowly shifts down my arm, settling on my wrist.

There on my wrist I stare at the tattoo, which reads, ‘I just might take the chance.’ Quickly, I drop my arm, not wanting the words to haunt me on this day. I glance over at Colin, hoping he didn’t catch me looking at the physical reminder of his brother. He doesn’t seem to notice.

The music begins, my heart beating harder. I feel my eyes go wet, and I swallow deeply. Emmie squeezes my arm before saying, “See you at the other end.”

I smile again; my face is starting to hurt. Faceless ushers close the doors, and Colin and I take our place for the big reveal. “It’s almost time,” he comments, looking down at me. I wonder if he can see how scared I am. “I promise, once you get down there, it’s a piece of cake. It’ll be gone before you know it, so savor every second.”

I’m not sure how I feel about what he just said. I keep questioning myself, unsure if the way I’m feeling is normal. Does anyone really deserve to be with someone as messed up as me until death? I mean, wow, death. Doesn’t anyone else think that is a terribly long time?

The doors open, and the noise in the sanctuary shifts as everyone stands and turns to look at me. I don’t look at any of their faces. In my head, I keep telling myself over and over again, ‘You can do this. Just keep smiling, keep smiling, keep smiling.’

Colin takes a step forward, pulling me along. The march feels like it takes forever. I wonder how long the aisle is and come to the conclusion it must be some sort of Guinness World Record for aisle lengths. I manage to make it the entire way without making eye contact with a single guest.

Instead, I focus my gaze at the end of the aisle. Emmie’s smile is beaming back at me, and my heart grows warm. My eyes shift to the minister. His hair is black, the black that looks fake and shiny, so you know he must have a full head of gray he’s covering up.

At last, I allow myself to look at him, there, waiting for me. I feel my heart begin to ache when our eyes meet, a tear rolling down his cheek. His eyes glisten with an expression of pure joy. I can’t help but smile a huge, toothy grin as I take in his mess of sandy, untamed curls on top of his head. My Henry, the last thing he ever thinks about is fashion or grooming. It is always clear, though, that I am the first thing he thinks about.

Before I know it, Colin has handed me off to my soon-to-be husband, and the minister is speaking the words that will unite us forever as husband and wife. I am reassured in those passing moments that I am, in fact, doing the right thing. This man is a creature unlike any I’ve ever known. He is wiser and kinder than I could ever hope to be, and I’m better for being with him.

The pastor calls out to the crowd, as a formality, “If anyone has any reason why this couple should not be joined in matrimony, let them speak now.” Soon, Henry will kiss me, and I will be his bride.

“I do,” a voice calls out powerfully from the audience. My breath catches in my throat as I spin wildly to find Christian peering back at us. The crowd erupts into whispering assumptions. “She can’t marry him because she still loves me!” he shouts.

My head is swimming, and I think I might vomit. I look back at Henry whose eyes are no longer filled with joy. Now I see pain staring back at me. My heart aches—this can’t be happening. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. The organ begins playing an ominous pitch, and I gasp as I wake up.

I am drenched in sweat. My heart is racing. I look next to me. Henry sleeps soundly. “It was a dream, just a dream,” I tell myself.





I WAKE UP, reach out, and run my hand across the sheets next to me to find they’re cool to the touch. Like usual, Henry has gotten up long before me. During the early dating phase of our relationship, I never realized this about him. Usually when I would wake up, I’d find his eyes peering down at me. This made me uncomfortable the first few times I caught him doing it, but by the third or fourth time, something about it became almost comforting.