I nodded and obeyed, finding comfort in her embrace. When I blinked away my tears, I noticed Lily just behind Gwyneth with a question clearly etched on her face. “What are you thinking?” I murmured, a fresh wave of remorse washing over me as I stared at her.
“Are you having second thoughts? If you’re nervous, that’s one thing; we can totally handle that—but you aren’t getting cold feet are you? I mean, you love him. I know you do. I’ve seen it.” I understood her concern; I understood that my outburst impacted her in more ways than one—and because of that, I owed her the truth.
Whether or not I was in love wasn’t the question. I knew my heart. I knew that I was committed and loyal to one person; I desired only one man—the one who chose me. The problem was that I was afraid my devotion to him didn’t add up to all that I had known and lived through with the men I had loved before.
I pulled away from Gwyneth and plopped down in the armchair beside the window as I tried to collect my thoughts. “I keep thinking—” I started and then I stopped, looking at each of their faces. They both showed signs of concern with a hint of curiosity. I swallowed nervously before I continued. “I keep thinking about Neil and Cypress.”
“What about them?” Lily asked gently.
“Did you know that I was in love with Cypress for two years? Two years. He didn’t even know for a year and a half. And with Neil—we were together for a year, and I hung onto my feelings for him formonthsafter we broke up.”
“That was a long time ago, Stef,” said Gwyneth, kneeling down beside me. “What does that have to do with George?”
“Um—” I paused once more, looking up at Lily. In that moment, she wasn’t my matron of honor; instead, she was my future sister-in-law. Whatever doubts I was having, I couldn’t share them with her. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. I couldn’t ask her to help me conquer the feelings I was battling—not when those feelings collided with my plans to marry her brother. “You know what, never mind,” I insisted as I stood. “I should dry off. Get dressed. I’ll be out in just a second and then the shower is all yours, Lily.”
“What? I—” She was interrupted when a knock sounded at the door.
I sighed in relief, taking the opportunity to close myself into the bathroom. I pulled on a pair of shorts and a button-up top before towel drying my hair. I could hear my mom and Michelle chatting as they entered the room. They got along marvelously—which made me feel just a little guiltier about the apprehensive emotions that had invaded my entire chest. Another voice drifted through the door and I realized my photographer had arrived as well. I needed to hop on board the happy train. I had promised myself I wouldn’t expect too much from my wedding day—but I was ruining it, and that needed to stop.
When I opened the door, Lily was there waiting for me. “Not so fast,” she urged, inviting herself inside before closing the door behind her. “Are you okay?”
I offered her a shrug. “I’m in my head and it’s a mess up there. I think I just need to get ready.”
“Stefany—forget that I’m related to him, okay? Tell me honestly, are you going to be all right?”
I ran my fingers through my damp hair and tried avoiding her gaze. She cupped her hand around my cheek and compassionately demolished my efforts. The look she gave me reminded me that our relationship had always been based on the truth—even in our most vulnerable moments. “I loved Cypress and Neil foryears; George and I have barely been together forsix months. Are we crazy? I know people were surprised in the beginning and we couldn’t be talked out of our decision—but this is going to be officialvery soon and there will be no turning back.”
She stared at me for a minute without saying a word. Then she surprised me, pulling me in for a hug as she said, “I love you. I loved you before Georgie even knew you. You’re one of my favorite people in the whole world—but now he loves you more than I do. Believe me. No one knows my brother like I do. His heart is yours. You know that, right?”
I squeezed her tighter, hoping the act would help me to absorb her words. I needed them. I needed to be reminded about the love that existed in my lifenow, not in the past. “I know,” I breathed. “I’m just nervous.”
“You don’t need to be. I promise. Now get out there,” she instructed as she let me go, smacking my backside as I headed for the door. “It’s my turn to shower and your turn to get your make-up done.” She winked at me and a smile tugged at my lips. I drew in a deep breath and tried to clear my mind as I left her to join the others.
2:00 pm
I looked stunning. I allowed myself the compliment because I wasn’t responsible for the masterpiece that was my appearance. God had sculpted my face; He had given me my hazel eyes and my delicate nose, my soft cheeks and my full, sweetheart lips. Michelle had done my make-up. I should have known that she would make me look beautiful, thinking back on how amazing Lily looked on her wedding day. She used shades of green, blue, and purple to bring out my eyes, making them look huge; her shadowing technique made my face seem dream-like and romantic. I loved it.
Abby had done my hair. I didn’t have much to work with, in comparison to the rest of the women in the room, but she managed to make me look edgy and smart and classy all at once. She freed my forehead of my generous bangs and pinned them back into an elegant puff, attaching my handmade hair accessory in just the right spot. That I could take credit for—the vibrant green and deep pink feathers meshed with the eye of a peacock feather and emerald gems added a splash of color I couldn’t go without; it would later help hold the lacy netting that would cover my eyes and serve as my veil for the ceremony.
I pulled my eyes away from my reflection in search of the time. Two o’clock. The ceremony was in three hours. In thirty minutes, we would leave for the church. My bridesmaids, their hair done and their make-up finished, were putting on their dresses—emerald green, strapless, three-quarter length dresses that they all wore well. My mom and Michelle were both carefully loading my dress into the car. When a knock sounded at the door, I was expecting to find them on the other side. Instead, I found Chase.
“Special—whoa,” he interrupted himself, his face lighting up in a smile at the sight of me. “You look amazing.” I looked down at my outfit and then back up at him, lifting an eyebrow teasingly. “You know what I mean,” he added with a chuckle. “You’ll be a knock out in your dress.”
“Thank you,” I murmured.
“Sweets, is that you?” Lily called as she made her way across the room. She smiled at the sight of her husband, half dressed in his tuxedo pants and undershirt.
“You, my love, are beautiful,” he greeted her tenderly. Despite his biased opinion, I couldn’t help but agree with him.
“Wait until I have my heels on,” she flirted with a wink. “Anyway—what are you doing here?”
“Oh, right. I have a special delivery,” he announced, holding out a card and an oblong velvet box.
For an hour and a half, my thoughts were distracted from everything other than hair-dos and make-up tips. For an hour and a half, my room had felt like a safe haven, with girl talk and laughter, my photographer capturing every moment. Suddenly, all the nervous energy I had been harboring earlier came back—and with a vengeance. While Chase stood with my gift from the groom, I pictured my gift to George.
I got him a pocket watch, a classy accessory I knew he would love and wear whenever he had on the right suit. It was silver and our wedding date was engraved on the inside with the words“From your loving bride.” It was obviously meant to symbolize time and our commitment to be together until the end of it.
But what do we know of time?
George and I started dating in February. As if us meeting at a wedding hadn’t been cliché enough, our first date was over Valentine’s Day weekend. Three months later, we were engaged. Three months after that, I was standing in a hotel room in Estes Park with his best man before me, my matron of honor beside me, and my heart racing out of control inside of me.
I turned away from Chase in search of George’s gift. It was in a little box wrapped in green and pink ribbon. It didn’t take me long to find, but as I held his watch and my two page, handwritten letter in my hands, all I wanted to do was open them. I had written him a letter instead of a card, because there was so much in my heart that I wanted to say. I had done it days ago, knowing that with everything going on, I wouldn’t have been able to focus long enough to write it on our wedding day. But now I couldn’t remember what it said.
I stared at the envelope, frantically trying to recall every word that was enclosed. I knew that inside were the answers to the questions that had been plaguing me all day. Inside, my words must have spoken of my love for my darling man—providing proof that I was wrong about never being able to love anyone like I had loved Cypress, and that my heart belonged to George more than it had belonged to Neil. I needed to see inside! I needed to be reminded and reassured bymy own words, written in a moment of clarity.
“Stef?” I hadn’t noticed Lily at my side until she placed a comforting hand on my back. “Is that for George? Did you want me to take it up to him?”
“I don’t remember what it says,” I whispered as I looked up at her.
She offered me a sympathetic smile as she took the items from my hands. “You don’t need to remember. It’s forhim to remember—like his words to you.” She placed his card and the velvet box in my hands. All I could do was stare at them. “I’m going to run this up to him, okay? I’ll be right back.”
I turned and watched her leave with Chase before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. I was afraid to open anything, fearful that I would be overwhelmed by guilt if I did.How can I possibly enjoy a gift from this man when I’m struggling to decide if he deserves better—if he deservesmore than what I have to offer? How can I read his thoughts, meant only for his bride, when I’m not sure that my love is enough to hold that title?
I loved Neil in a way I had never loved before. Am I in love like that now?
I thought I’d never love anyone more than I loved Cypress. And I was wrong about that, wasn’t I? Or was I?
“Cupcake?” Abby said with a giggle, occupying the space next to me. I looked over at her, confusion drawing my eyebrows together. “Your card,” she began to clarify, “it hasCupcake written on the front. Is that what he calls you?”
“Oh,” I murmured, glancing down at the card. “Yes. He calls me ‘cupcake’ and I call him ‘my darling.’”
“How did that come about?”
I hesitated as I tried to remember. Our pet names for each other were intimate now, but they hadn’t always been. In the beginning, they were meant to be annoying. We used to throw them at each other when we were joking around. Then one day, they were terms of endearment.
It wasn’t until Lily’s wedding that I found out that George and I went to the same church. I thought it amusing that we had been attending the same church every week for over a year without knowing who each other was. Once we had been introduced, I saw him all the time. He and his girlfriend were pretty involved and the timing of our meeting was ideal. With Neil gone and my desperate need for distraction, I started accepting invitations that they offered me. We were in a Bible study together and every weekend there was something to do. The singles ministry at the church was big, so there were a lot of opportunities to do various things around town with different combinations of people. I was all in, my heart longing to be healed; God answered my prayer through community.
George made me laugh, which was why I enjoyed his company; but we were never really close. We ended up sharing some of the same dear friends—like Tabitha—but I didn’t invest in my friendship with him as much as my other friendships. He was in a relationship and I respected that and the rules of etiquette that revolved around our circumstances.
He and his girlfriend broke up after a year and a half of dating. Seeing him without her made me aware of him in a whole new way. It was as if he blossomed right before me. And along with his single status came opportunities for us to get together with Chase and Lily whenever they were in town—it was suddenly appropriate. Somewhere along the way, we started finding excuses for us to get together, just the two of us. Then we startedsearchingfor excuses for us to get together, just the two of us. Then we becameus—my darling and his cupcake.
“Um,” I fought a smile as my memories became more defined. “It started with me. I remember we were doing some sort of flashback event. Everyone was supposed to bring a picture from when we were little. George brought a photo from when he was eight, I think. It had him and Chase and Lily in it. They were dressed up as Power Rangers. It was hilarious,” I giggled, the image coming into focus in my head. “I made a comment about how darling it was and he scoffed at my word choice, claiming that it was awesome or fabulous or rad—anything butdarling. I wouldn’t budge.
“From that day forward, whenever he was being obnoxious I would find a way to describe something he’d said or something he did or something he was wearing as darling. He hated it.”
“And now he loves it,” added Tabitha, as she sat on the bed across from us. “Abby—you did a fantastic job on her hair,” she began to say, nodding toward me. “And it’ll remind him of why he calls her cupcake.”
“Oh my gosh,” I groaned as I shook my head. She grinned at me, knowing she was right. “Christmas, two years ago, a group of us from church were invited up to the Peters’ big party. They have one every year,” I explained. “Anyway—I wore this dress; it was red and it puffed out at my waist. I thought it was cute. It was strapless and stopped at my knees and I had these killer matching heels.”
“That wasn’t the only thing that matched,” Tabitha continued with a smirk, folding her arms across her chest. “She wore her hair in a faux hawk that night and she managed to incorporate a green bow in the mix.”
“Hey,” I pouted. “You can’t deny that I looked good that night.”
“Babe—you look good every night. But that didn’t stop George from telling you that you looked like a cupcake.”
“True,” I admitted with a shrug.
“And now you love it.”
I replied with a silent nod, my eyes drifting down to read his script across the envelope in my hand. Even with my stroll down memory lane, I was no closer to opening it than I was before.
“Don’t you want to know what’s inside?” asked Gwyneth as she sat on the other side of me, wrapping her arm around my waist. “Because I’m dying to know! On my wedding day, Weston gave me a pair of earrings.”
I studied her for a moment, trying to recall how long she and West had dated before they tied the knot. I remembered how in love they were—how in love they still were—and it made me wonder, “How did you know? I mean, when did you know that West was the man you wanted to marry?”
“Honestly…I don’t know. When we first started dating, marriage was not something I was thinking about. I actually never thought I’d get married before I graduated from college. But then at some point I guess I just realized that when I was ready to get married, it had to be him.”
“So there wasn’t, like…a moment?” I asked, surprised by her answer.
“No,” she replied with a kind smile. “It was more of a choice, you know? And it still is. I chose him again and again with every new day.” Her words massaged my heart and I found myself relaxing into her embrace. She must have noticed, because she rubbed her hand up and down my side as she squeezed me tighter. “Open it,” she encouraged me in a whisper.
I had every intention of doing so, my finger moving underneath the seal on the back of the envelope, when I heard my phone ring. Lily, who had just reentered the room, spotted it and grabbed it before I got the chance. She smiled as she read the caller ID and answered as only a sister would.
“What do you want?” My heart rate picked up once more, realizing who she was speaking to. I was beginning to feel bad for the poor artery that beat inside of my chest—my emotions toying with its rhythm all da
y. “Okay, okay!” Lily teased, her conversation with George clearly coming to an end. “Here she is.”
I stood as I reached for the phone, bringing it to my ear as I turned my back to my audience. “Hello?”
“Hi.” I released an unconscious sigh of relief at the sound of his voice. “How are you?”
“I’m okay.” My stomach tightened in response to my white lie. I couldn’t paint a pretty picture for him—he deserved the truth. Or at least, part of the truth. “Well, actually, I’m a little nervous.”
“Don’t be nervous, baby. Everything is going to turn out great. And I hear you look amazing, which is no surprise to me, but it makes me that much more anxious to see you.”
“I’m anxious to see you too.” Hearing him speak was like music to my ears. His voice washed away all of my doubt and chased away my anxiety. I didn’t want to hang up, fearful that I would get lost in my head again if I couldn’t hear him. “I love you,” I told him, wanting desperately to hear him tell me the same.
“I love you too, Stef. Did you open my gift?”
“Not yet. I was just getting ready to. Did you open mine?”
“You made him cry!” Lily called out, loud enough so that George might hear her. I turned to face her, the smile tugging at my lips mirroring hers. If she was telling the truth, if I had moved him to tears, then maybe my love for him wasn’t as lame as I feared.
“Is that true?” I murmured.
“I’ll tell you what’s true, cupcake: I’m yours. You have ruined me in the best possible way—and this heart of mine will never yearn for another woman the way it yearns for you. I love youso much. I called because I needed to tell you that. And I wanted to hear your voice.”
As he spoke, something inside of me seemed to give way. A sob clogged my throat, my eyes filled with tears, and every inch of my skin tingled with desire. In an instant, I understood that I had been trying to compare three completely different relationships to each other all day; my sense of panic was derived from the fact that I had never done that before. The concept was so foreign to me that I didn’t know how to handle it.
For the One Chosen: a novella companion to For the Lost & Wayward Found (Crossroads) Page 3
