Dependence

Wedding Bells

I looked in the mirror at myself. The long wedding veil framed my face making my lips and cheeks have a deep red tone. I could not even begin to comprehend that I was getting married. Married into a loving family to a husband who was tough but a complete marshmallow behind closed doors. My mother-in-law and I were so excited we began planning as soon as the ring hit my finger. "Oh Birdie," My mother in law cooed tears pecking at her eyes, "you look absolutely stunning." Her voice was shaky as she looked in the mirror.

I smiled at her and began taking the veil off of my head. "365 days until I get to marry your son." I smiled at her as I looked down at my finger imagining a gold band. She took the veil from my hands and gently placed it in the wardrobe bag. The invitations were sent out and everything was already planned - excitement lacing every single early milestone.

"I have to go home and do some laundry." I complained as I changed into my sweatpants and t-shirt. Caroline zipped the bag up and put the dress in the closet, storing it until the day finally came. She nodded to me and smiled.

"I will text you, make sure you text me back." She squealed giving me a huge before letting me go. I nodded to her and grinned finding my way out the door.

The November breeze in New England was bitter, warning the signs of impending snow. I quickly got in my car, starting it and immediately turning on the heater. I could immediately hear Logan's words, "it's just blowing cold air." I sighed and rubbed my hands together blowing into them for warmth. I turned up the radio playing with stations before settling on some hip-hop.

My phone buzzed in my purse catching my attention on the babble from the speakers keeping my mind busy. I took it out of my purse and glanced at the dimmed screen - an unsaved number with the area code in the notification banner. Who is this?

"Your getting married?" The stranger asked, the text bubbles underneath the text. They were still typing. I squinted - who could this possible be? Someone who was angry they didn't receive an invitation?

"Who is this?" I responded back to them, the text bubbles immediately popping up on the screen as they were typing to reply.

"I go into prison once and you delete my number." My heart raced. It has been years since speaking with Koen and he always comes out of the wood-work whenever something big happens in my life. For mostly everything I have been quiet with announcing anything even graduating college.

"Koen... it has been years. Yes, I'm getting married. People move on, move forward, and grow up. I wish you well." I texted back, deleting the conversation. Anger bubbled inside of me - how does he think he can just waltz into my life again when it's convenient for him? Does he need money again?

"I just want to see you once before you get married. As soon as possible preferably," I could just hear his confidence in the text like I was going to fall into his grasp like I used to. "In an hour at the coffee shop in town." The text bubbles disappeared and I huffed - this guy has some balls. I deleted the text conversation and blocked the number.

I pulled out of the driveway in autopilot. The text message bringing me back to my teenage naivety - when I thought nobody intentionally hurt people and I loved with no boundaries (an unfortunate trait I still carry). The streets passed and so did the lights - I did not even think. I repeated in my head that it has been years, leave it be.

My phone rang through the speakers of my car and I pulled into the gas station at the last ring before clicking the green button on the steering wheel. "Hi Mom." I pitched before I heard her huff, the phone clattering to what sounds like the floor. I giggled just picturing cussing at herself.

"Honey, guess who is here and stopped by," my mother's voice was hushed. I rolled my eyes, being able to guess the only person that stopped by. "He was driving by and saw your father working out in the garage." My mother's voice was breathless as she was walking around the house as she talks.

"Mom, I want nothing to do with Koen." I spoke up in a loud voice. My mother hushed me and reprimanding me for being rude.

"Just come by," My mother's voice was soft as I heard a slam of a door and laughing in the back ground. His laugh still the same - hearty and contagious. My father's laugh could be heard following Koen's. "Logan is away on business. I'll make you dinner." My mother bribing me as she knows I hate cooking. Don't do it, don't do it Birdie.

My mother continued begging and pleading with me. "Okay, fine. For dinner but he better be gone by the time I get there." My mother rubbing her win in my face as she hung up the phone. Just like that, I was heading towards the one person I have tried so hard to ignore and keep out of my life.

The music blared in my car all the way to my parent's house. The lyrics making no sense and getting jumbled in my head. The thoughts swirling and spinning - the memories, the fights - reminiscing was bad. Stop it Birdie.

I pulled into the driveway of the yellow house I grew up on. I saw my father rubbing his hand on a towel walking through the breezeway into the house. I huffed, of course. Koen leaned on his car looking at me with his deep green eyes.

I glared for a moment at the person in front of me who looked entirely different - he looked clean. No markings on his face, meat on his bones, and he looked decent. His hair falling to his forehead and flashing his teeth at me in a grin. Maybe prison was a good thing for him - the rehabs never worked. I wonder how his grandparents are doing.

I turned off my car and stepped out into the breeze, shivering and clanking my teeth together. "Cold?" His voice broke the silence as he crossed his arms over his chest. I nodded and made an audible puff which made him stare more in return.

"Koen I blocked you for a reason. You can't just come here to get my attention," I walked further into the driveway slowly trying to not make my escape as noticeable. He grabbed my arm and turned me towards him. "Don't grab me like that." I argued to him. He knew I hated when he grabbed me, it made me want to crawl out of my skin.

"You look good Birdie," His voice was tender as he stared down at me. His breath warm against my face as he pecked my cheek - gross. "You wouldn't have came if you weren't the least bit curious." His eyebrows raised, knitting together. Really, he was cocky - but maybe not entirely wrong.

I always hoped he would become a good man. A man that was clean, a man that would make a good husband and father. Would make good choices and respect the person who loved him with their entire being. I resented him; despite me thinking about him a lot still. I always tried blocking it by reminding myself that he chose the streets and drugs - that's what made him happy.

"You're not wrong. You look good." He smiled down at me embracing me. I kept my arms at my side not wanting to engage with him too much. He still smelled the same - all these years and with the same cologne. He nuzzled into my hair for a moment before holding me at arm's length, raking his eyes up and down.

My heart melted into my stomach and a lump formed in my throat. I was sensitive still after all this time with no closure - my first love. We walked side by side in silence into the house. The smell of food immediately penetrating our noses. My dad opened the oven checking the food and my mother was rustling in the dining room.

I turned the corner and my mother stood straight up like she just got caught committing a crime. Scrap books and boxes of pictures littered the table. "Mom why are you doing this." I begged her to stop.

I knew she didn't like Logan - but she knew he was good for me. He was level-headed and healed a lot of my wounds. She always told me that Koen lit something up in me in a way that Logan didn't. She knew Koen made bad choices but always chalked it up to him, "not being dealt the right set of cards from the beginning." She ultimately had a soft spot for him as a person but knew in the end that we couldn't be together.

Koen reached over my shoulder to a loose picture that was on the table. A picture of both of us sitting in lawn chairs during a family barbecue. "I remember this." His voice was deep as he stepped around me to look through more of the pictures. My mother chuckled and began speaking. My mind blocking everything off to what was happening around me.

The reminiscing starts...