Was it All an Accident? (A Harry Styles Fan Fiction, Book Three)

Part Twenty-Five: We Haven't Even Done Anything

(Whytnie’s POV)

Today is my wedding day. In exactly one hour, I will no longer be Whytnie Fields. It’s strange. Part of me feels too young and that I’m not ready; and the other half knows this is what I want to do and I’m where I was meant to be. That doesn’t make my stomach feel any better, nor my killer headache. Miss Tate has already crushed up some pills and tried to drug me without my knowledge whatsoever. I tasted it right away and spit up my food. Yeah, it’s strange. I just don’t take medicine. Like at all. I don’t even care how sick or horrible I feel, I just won’t take any. Now I’m having to deal with the consequences.

            Severely.

            “Please don’t puke again.” The voice brought me back to the here and now. We’re all standing in the patronage beside the church, getting ready without any guy seeing us. My father’s waiting right outside the door, probably complaining about the heat. Everyone else should already be sitting inside the church.

            My chest tightens and it becomes harder and harder to breathe. I have to sit down, but I can’t move. Instead I fall down and suddenly all eyes are immediately on me. And then I’m bombarded with questions.

            “Are you okay?”

            “What’s wrong?”

            “Do you need some water?”

            “Are you fine?”

            “Hey, you need a chair?”

            “I told you not to throw up, didn’t I?”

            Gemma’s face comes into view, she’s bending down to look me in the eyes. “Hey, everything’s going to be alright, okay?” She smiles and I feel my chest loosen a little bit. I’m still not convinced. Emily joins her and grabs my hand, leaning in close.

            “She’s right, you know. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.” I nod, trying to believe her. “Where’s your medicine at?” She meant for my stupid illness that was now going to slow me down for the rest of my life, if it didn’t kill me first. I pointed towards my purse beside the preacher’s wife, who was smiling and trying to reassure me with one look. Emily pushed herself up and started digging around my purse for my medicine. My mother was now beside Gemma, with my soon-to-be mother-in-law right beside her. They were all looking at me, trying to decipher how to help me. They were lost. Harry would know. Emily does. She brings me back some water and hands over my shot to Gemma, because Emily gets grossed out by needles. Gemma gives me another reassuring look before preparing my arm for the injection. My heartbeat quickens and so does my breathing. My mom gets a hold of one hand and Anne takes a hold of the other.

            “Everything is going to be okay.”

            “Shh, everything’s going to be fine.”

            “They’re right, you know. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to walk down the aisle with your head held high and you’re going to be happy. I promise you.”

            “Done.” Gemma comes back into view and smiles down at me. “I put on one of those clear-like bandages where it’s hardly noticeable, I promise.”

            “Alright! Up and at ‘em! We’re running late as it is, and you’re going to start ruining your makeup before the wedding has even started!” Miss Tate gets right up in my face.

            “Hey! Back off! We’re getting there, aren’t we!” Emily yells, coming to my defense. “Why don’t you just give her a break! It’s not your day!”