Torn Hearts

Chapter One.

My Best Friend's Wedding

Present Time

I’m convinced that major life events exist for us to measure how fast or slow we’re progressing according to society. Weddings are one of them. When all of my friends started getting married and I was sitting in the corner like, “Don’t mind me. Party for one over here,” I knew that everyone in my life was moving along a little faster than I was willing to. From an outside perspective, depending on when you met me, you could say one of two things about me: “Poor girl, she’s been through so much. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ends up buying ten cats and living alone for the rest of her life.” Or, “One of these days she’s got to settle down with one of the men she… fools around with.”

            I’ve actually heard my mother state the latter of those options to her friends during book club. She uses book club as a way of whoring me out to her friend’s eligible sons. It’s annoying. The latest book club meeting was held a couple of weeks ago and the big discussion was whom I would take to my best friend’s wedding. Thankfully that night I’d agreed to go over there with my brother so we could watch the Clippers game with our dad and I was able to intervene in the conversation as they handed around an iPhone opened up to one of their son’s Facebook page. 

            I’ve never understood why people associate wedding with dates. Is it because they don’t want to seem lame for not being in a steady relationship as they watch somebody they love get married? I’m secure enough on my own. I don’t need a man’s presence to show me my worth, thank you very much. But as I hand my car keys over to the valet of the hotel where my best friend and most of my loved ones will be getting ready for her big day, a wisp of longing hits me and I kind of wish I did have somebody to share this important event with. 

“You did it!” Estelle said as soon as she saw me walk into the bridal suite. She stood quickly, practically sprinting toward me, long loose strands of waves bouncing against the white robe she was wrapped in. I stood still as she touched the tips of my now short hair, waiting for her to tell me the truth: she hated it.

            “I feel like I pulled a Britney,” I said with a groan, tugging on the ends as if the movement would make it grow back. I’d had long hair, Rapunzel length hair, since I was a kid, and this drastic change was way out of character for me.

            Estelle laughed, her big bluish eyes shooting up to mine. “You’ve been talking about cutting your hair for months, and it’s not that short,” she said, emphasizing ‘that’ a little while I tilted my head with raised eyebrows. “Okay, fine, it is that short, but you look great!”

            “Thanks,” I said with a smile. “But enough about me. Are you ready to get married… again?”

            She married our longtime friend Oliver, the guy whose owned her heart ever since I could remember, a few months back, but today they’re having their formal celebration today.

            “I am!” she said smiling. I was glad for the infectious giddiness that radiated off of her. I knew the event would be a difficult one for me to get through, not because I wasn’t over the moon excited for my friends, but because all of our mutual friends would be there and the one I’d been avoiding like the plague for the past five years was one of the groomsmen, and in turn walking with me. 

            Oliver’s sister Sophie joined us as we dressed and sipped on mimosas, laughing at our drunken bachelorette party adventure from a few weeks earlier. I slipped into the soft pink maid of honor dress and scrunched my dirty blonde hair before working on my mascara. From the corner of my eye I caught movement and dropped the tube of nude lipstick I had in my hand with a gasp, turning to give Estelle my full attention as she walked out of the in suite bathroom wearing her wedding dress. I’d seen it on her when we went wedding shopping, but seeing her in it now, with her hair and make up done made it real.