painkillers. - H.S ✔

a missing dress

The wind was strong but the air was warm and felt nice on my skin. A gust of wind blew my hair in all sorts of directions, it only made it more natural.

I leaned against a parking meter waiting for Harry. I wondered what he was wearing. Whatever it was, I knew it would look nice on him. Because he wore everything perfectly, including his smile and his dazzling green eyes.

"Mara!" My head whipped up and I caught Harry running towards me. He was wearing an off-white suit with a blue shirt underneath, it was a button up and it was blue. He stopped a few feet away from me and just stared for a moment. I felt kind of uncomfortable under his stare, but he quickly turned it into an ear-to-ear smile and walked towards me.

"Wow. You-I..um.." I blushed a deep crimson and stared down at the pavement.

"My car is around the front. Let's um..go." I giggled a little, "good idea."

I caught up to Harry, pulling my dress up off of the ground as I went. I hoped that Trent wouldn't see us together. I was terrified that I'd go home and never forget the moment when I stepped into his car.

I wasn't too good with cars, but I noticed that his was a black Mercedes. And I wondered why he was living in McAdenville instead of a luxury apartment in Charlotte if he could afford this car, he could definitely afford a good apartment in the city.

I reached for the handle but Harry grabbed ahold of it first, opening the door for me. I blushed again and smiled to myself, quietly thanking him.

Harry got into the driver's seat and started up the car. I pulled the seatbelt over myself and played with the strap on my clutch. A common nervous habit.

As we pulled out of the parking lot, Harry broke the silence; "We'll be dancing all night, Mara." Harry began to hum a song I'd never heard before and I was mesmerized by his voice.

"Impossible, I can't dance." I never really danced at all. When Trent and I had first gotten together, I'd always wanted to dance around the living room. But he always went to bed early or barged out of the room. So we never really had any time to. Other than in my dreams, I never really danced.

"Well lucky you have me to teach you."

Amara had managed to get her wedding booked at the Botanical Gardens which was a beautiful place near Charlotte where you could swim, host weddings or social events, see butterflies, or just view the lovely gardens. It was such a beautiful place for a wedding. I was so happy for her.

If only I were getting married today.

-

There was one time where I thought that Trent would propose to me. We were so in love, we had just moved into our current apartment and we were painting the living room. His smile had lit up the room and he looked at me for a moment, I thought he'd propose. But he didn't. He just kept on painting.

Sometimes when I sat in the living room, I'd think about that moment and how my heart had been beating so fast and I was holding back a smile. And sometimes I'd think about how I had been living this lie that Trent and I would get married someday and we'd have children that we'd love more than anything. But then I realized that Trent wouldn't love anyone but himself. He'd just want me to himself and he wouldn't want to risk losing that.

But as I slipped my fingers through Harry's as we walked up the stairs to where Amara was getting ready, I realized that I shouldn't have to want something so bad and not be able to get it. Something like being happily married. That was not something I envisioned with Trent.

"Thank you for coming, Harry." I was really happy that Harry was the one holding my hand, the one that I'd dance with even though I was so bad at it.

"Anything for you, Mara." He whispered back.

Anything for you.

Something Trent would never say, something he'd never even think of saying.

"You know, I do have a confession to make." I looked up at Harry. He was smiling, but not forced, like he was actually happy to be here.

"And what is that?" His voice sent chills down my spine and only made me fall deeper into his gaze.

"Marielle is my name. I don't know why I said, Mara. I just—I didn't think we'd be here today." He softly chuckled,

"Oh I know, I just like Mara. As beautiful as your real name is, no one calls you Mara and I'd like to be the single person who does." I smiled up at him again. This man really was something.

-

"Marielle! It's nice to see you again!" Isla Fisher, a girl I'd known from high school who was Amara's friend and one of her bridesmaids squealed in excitement. Her hair was a golden blonde and her eyes were a crystal blue.
Maybe Harry was better off with someone like her.

"Yeah." I smacked my lips together and took a seat on a chair which a reception dress was hung over.

My reception dress. I left it.

I envisioned it laying on my bed where I'd left it. I didn't have time to go all the way back, I didn't even have a car to drive back with. I didn't want to just wear my dress. I had to return it anyways, and every other bridesmaid had a change of clothes. Except for me now.

But an idea hatched in my mind. I excused myself and ran out of the room, to the wedding hall, trying to find Harry. I searched the hall, every seat and then proceeded towards the entry-way where we'd parted ways.

I needed the dress now or I wouldn't have one. I rushed around the halls, passing by distant-relatives some of which had to be Josh's and fell into a man with a more than familiar off-white suit.

Curse these damn heels.

"Mara? What are you doing here?" He asked he was talking to a couple. But not just any couple, it was my parents. I hadn't seen them in years. Ah how time flies by so fast. Their faces still the same, a few strands of grey hair peeking out from the rest of the medium cut black hair.

"Marielle." My father sternly said. I stood up straight and brushed my dress off. I could barely even look him in the eye. I was so ashamed, I hadn't even thought about mine and my parents confrontation. I had hoped just to avoid them, but obviously that wasn't going to work.

"Clumsy, as always." My mother laughed it off, easing the tension. I didn't want her to forgive me because no one should have to forgive someone else who chose their boyfriend over their own family. Harry laced his fingers into mine and gave me a reassuring squeeze. He didn't know my situation, but it was like he felt that something was off.

And something was.

-

American hotline for domestic abuse:1-800-799-SAFE (7233).

Website link for more information and numbers:
http://www.thehotline.org

Watch these:
https://youtu.be/WL3rfk2iFww
https://youtu.be/hhHdIhfK7LQ
https://youtu.be/5Z_zWIVRIWk

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