Two Letters That Change Everything

Vestigal

| Related to the small remains of something that was once much larger |

➳ ☾ ➳

"Not that I'm unhappy to see you, Daph, but isn't it bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding?"

Daphne plopped down on the couch while Callum remained close to the door. "I thought you didn't believe in superstitions," she shrugged.

He narrowed his eyes, trying to study the blonde in front of him. "I don't. But you do." She hummed in response, leaning further into the leather couch. "Daphne, what's wrong?"

"Florence," she replied without skipping a beat.

"Not again, please." Callum rubbed his eyes with his palms, the irritation in his voice evident. "We've been over this before."

"Perhaps, but we never truly reached an understanding."

"What more do you want?" he sighed, pushing his hands into his pockets. He knew well what Daphne wanted, but he would never in a million years grant her that.

Daphne had always been skeptical of his friendship with the brunette, like many other girlfriends he had over the years. Although he had explained over and over again that their relationship never went further than the boundaries of friendship, Daphne tended to believe otherwise.

"I'm marrying you, Daphne," he stated calmly, wanting to both reassure the girl and avoid a meaningless argument that would result in him losing. "I proposed to you. I professed my love to you. Florence is only my best friend."

Daphne scoffed. Even the girl's name was enough to make her blood boil. "Best friends don't act the way you both do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let me see." She raised a hand, dramatically counting each argument she stated. "Best friends don't sleep in each other's beds, nor do they kiss each other on the cheek, nor hold each other's hands. And they certainly don't look at each other the way you both do."

"They do when they have literally known each other since birth!" Callum argued, trudging closer towards the young bride and looking into her jade-colored eyes that carried more rage than necessary. "Besides, ever since we started dating, Florence took three steps back! We haven't gone further than smiling at one another."

"That's not what I saw a few seconds ago," she scoffed, gritting her teeth, her knuckles turning as white as her dress.

Daphne had made it clear that she wanted the two best friends to maintain a physical distance, and Florence respected that. She was, like Callum, aware that their closeness intimated the other's partner. But over the years, Daphne took it too far.

At first, she demanded no more sleepovers, intertwined hands, kisses on the cheek or forehead, and she got that. But now, Callum can't recall the last time he had hugged his best friend properly. Let alone seen her for more than five minutes.

"I don't want her at the wedding." The sound of Daphne's voice demanded his attention.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." She crossed her arms, arching an eyebrow. "I don't want her at my wedding."

"Our wedding, darling," he corrected, anger slowly filling him up despite his futile attempts at restraining it. "I have been nothing but faithful to you. Do you not trust me? Do you seriously believe I'll leave you for someone else?"

"It's not about trust. You don't--"

"Understand. Yes, I don't."

Daphne looked sheepishly at the ground. She raised her eyes and looked at him, a stoic expression on her face. He hated this. He despised the walls she set up half of the time to mask her emotions. Florence never did that. That's why it had always been easier to understand her.

"Hypothetically." Callum cursed under his breath, loosening his tie. In the span of the three years he had known his fiancée, he understood that she had to ask hypothetical questions at least once a day. And needless to say, that irritated him. Nevertheless, he entertained the idea for her sake. "If Florence were to be in love with you. What would you do?"

He snorted. The thought of his best friend being in love with him was stupid. "She isn't," he replied, not missing the way Daphne pursed her lips. Callum sighed, giving in. "It wouldn't matter if she did have feelings for me because I already love you, Daph. And I'm an engaged man, in case it wasn't obvious," he answered earnestly, placing both hands on Daphne's shoulders.

"Hypothetically speaking," she declared once again, making her fiancé groan. He raked his fingers through his dark locks proceeding to pull at them. He hoped that the hairstylist could fix his hair fast before the wedding. That is if Daphne could finish her unnecessary argument in the next few minutes. "If I told you that one of the guests is planning to ask Florence to dance and profess his feelings towards her."

"What?!" His eyes widened so much; he was afraid they might bulge. "Who?"

"Jayden," the girl shrugged.

Callum's jaw clenched. If he wasn't mistaken, Jayden, Daphne's friend, is a douche. Proper mannered, intelligent, good-looking, and successful. Yes, a complete and utter douche.

"You're jealous," Daphne remarked, her jade eyes devoid of any hint of emotion.

Was he? Callum didn't know that. He wouldn't call it jealousy. He hated the thought of anyone getting closer to his best friend than necessary. "It's called protectiveness," he justified. "Brotherly protectiveness."

Although Daphne nodded at him, he knew from the way she briefly looked away that she didn't believe him.

"Daphne," he took her hands, his finger ghosting over her left finger where another ring would soon be sitting in less than twenty minutes. "I love you. Now, please get those awful thoughts out of your head."

The girl smiled, wrapping her hands around her future husband's neck. She kissed him firmly, pulling away after a minute.

She gave him a last peck before taking her bouquet and leaving the room.

Both of their smiles fell as the door closed. And while one of them sighed and collapsed into the chair, the other crossed the hall and walked determinedly towards a room.

She knocked on the door once, hearing shuffling from the other side, and the door suddenly opened.

Jade-colored eyes met wary sky-blue ones, and the bride opened her mouth resolutely. " I believe a conversation is long overdue, Florence."