Maybe This Is Love, |✔️

Years go by (part one)

I trace my fingers across my palm, gently itching it. My heart feels flimsy underneath all this material. It's hard to explain.

It's supposed to be my big day, but why is it that I feel so small?

I smooth the soft fabric of my flamboyant white gown with my sweaty palms. The woman who stares back at me in the mirror is unrecognisable. Surely she can not be me, right?

Her hair is long and filled with extensions that flow behind her like a running child. Her face is painted in an aesthetically pleasing way that only makes her feel like a clown.

Who is she? Who is Harley-Blair Matthews (née Thompson)?

This is meant to be the best day of my life.

Pops has put so much work into making sure it's all perfect. But perfect for who? Him? Weddings are one of his favourite things. After all, he met my Papa at a wedding.

I look and feel stupid. Anyone with eyes would be able to see that my heart is not in it. That's what I'm afraid of.

My face looks like a cartoon. He hired an artist to paint me up like a film star.

I guess it helps that I do feel as if I'm starring in one of Jasmin's movies, only the character I'm playing is myself.

This is what he wants, so I'll oblige. I always do. Good ol' reliable Harley.

I think about the other him, the only him that matters really. I wonder whether he got the letter or not. Where is he now? Is it Bali or the Bahamas? I can never keep up.

I see it all over his Instagram page, which I may or may not stalk religiously after my Friday night glass of wine.

Maybe I should check again, just to see if he's back in England. Maybe he'll end up coming and...and...

Well, I'm not sure what I expected him to do.

Just as I'm about to reach for my phone for about the 20th time this hour, I hear a light knock on the door.

"May I enter?" A cheery voice sings.

It's my older brother, Silas. He pokes his head around the door, his large hands covering his eyes. "You decent?"

"Yes, come in." I slumped down on the upholstered bench. I've been hiding away in the bridal suite for hours. I'm sure the party guests are starting to wonder if I've done a runner.

"What's up?" Silas, full of concern, immediately takes the spot beside me on the bench. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

I squish my lips to one side, thinking. The thoughts I'm having are not secondary. I've been thinking these very same thoughts since the moment I said "yes" to the proposal.

"I like Dane." Silas sighs. His long hair is tucked in a high bun even though he promised Pops he would cut it all off for the wedding. He looks so suave and mature in his groomsmen suit compared to his usual linen henley shirt and chinos. He's really put an effort in for this special day. He scratches his ear before saying, "I think he's good for you... stable."

Stable. I knew he'd say that. He has never liked Parker. He'd always thought that he was irresponsible, flighty. Mostly because he was there to pick up the pieces of my broken heart after Parker left for university in Italy.

We tried to make it work, long-distance and all that, but soon his life was moving at a pace faster than I could come to grips with. It was either let me go or let his career go, and I made the choice for him.

I had Dane back then. He was always there, willing and waiting with his arms outstretched, wanting me to fall right into them. And I did... eventually. Cassie was there too, but she visited Sander all the time since he went to a university in the next city over. They're not together anymore, although they're still close friends.

Funnily enough, Jasmin and Zacchias are the only ones of us still going strong. They're married now. They've been married for three years. A high profile celebrity wedding, now that Zachy has relocated to America to play basketball professionally in the NBA and Jasmin starred in that new Marvel movie (mostly due to who her parents are, but who cares, she killed that role).

That was also the last time I saw Parker face-to-face. He was Zacchias' best man, of course. There was even a special place in the magazine about how handsome this 'mysterious party guest' was.

'The boy with the grey eyes' was trending on Twitter for days after a photograph I took of him for the wedding went viral.

He never claimed his newfound fame. He let it die down.

Nobody knew it was Parker. My Parker.

I shake my head. No, not my Parker anymore. He belongs to the ways of the Earth and I belong to Dane now.

Sweet, kind, reliable Dane.

"You're right, I'm just nervous, that's all." I shrug my shoulders casually. "Si, do you think Papa would be proud of me?"

Silas smiles, a small smile, but a smile nonetheless. The mention of Papa still makes him emotional. "Oh Harley, of course he would." He hugs me, enveloping me in the smell of the lavender scented iron water he used to press his suit. "He would be proud of you, no matter what you do. Besides, you've got everything. You're a crazy talented photographer that's always booked and busy. Don't you have London Fashion Week in a month? You've got your own place and a dog named Doggett. That was his name, right? Plus, you're getting married! This is your big day! "

I let him squeeze me tight. I don't have everything. Not the one thing that was most important to me.

But, I'm getting too old to be hanging on to childish fantasies. I must let go.

"You're right," I said with a strained smile. "I'm getting married!"

I should be happy. I am happy.

Silas stands up and rearranges his suit. "Right, I'll let them know that you're ready, okay?"

"Okay." Okay.

Standing face-to-face with Dane in front of most of our family and friends.

His bright green eyes are wet with tears of happiness. He whispers how beautiful I look in my dress, and I tell him how handsome he is in his suit. His blonde hair is still shorn down. I like it this way. It reminds me of the boy I met all those years ago at that party. I'm happy, I think.

But, I shouldn't have to think.

The priest announces the part that I've been waiting for.

"Speak now or forever hold your peace."

I hold my breath, possibly, maybe, waiting for him to burst through those doors and stop the wedding. To grab me by the hand and lead me away from here. To come back like he promised.

But, of course, he doesn't.

And I'm left here again.

Mrs. Harley-Blair Marie Matthews.

I can't love him like I love you.

A/N- this is part one of two parts, I'm so sorry I was ill on Easter so I couldn't post 💔thanks for all the kind comments they really make my day and I'm so happy that so many people enjoyed the book even with all its unedited flaws. I actually have the edited version but I won't upload it as I don't want to lose all the comments. Thank you guys so much again, luv u all and stay tuned for part 2! xxxx