in time // h.s.

xxxvii. janet

Twenty-six years old...

This was it.

There was no going back after this.

A surge of happiness bolted through me and a smile immediately graced my face as I spotted him, staring back at me from the alter, looking simply divine. My amazing husband-to-be, my best friend, Matthew Gunn. Tears sprang to my eyes at the sight of him, looking as handsome as ever in his black suit. His tall lean frame visibly relaxed as his sea blue eyes filled with relief found mine, his lips breaking into a smile before shyly mouthing an 'I love you' I couldn't help but reciprocate.

I stole a glance around the room, spotting my mom whom dabbed her eyes with a napkin, my brother consoling his wife who was sniffing into his shoulder and many friends and family with their phones and cameras out and wide smiles, some with tears gently falling down their cheeks. Before resting my eyes back on my beloved husband-to-be, I stole another glance to the right of Matty, to see my other love, Harry Styles. Kind, generous, heart the size of Machu Picchu, and able to make my heart melt with just one look of those dazzling green eyes. But he wasn't looking back at me. Instead, he had his head bowed, hands joined together behind his back, and was concentrating on the floor in front of him. All I could see was the back of his short chestnut curls, which were styled up into some sort of quiff. The smooth tan skin of his face and his emerald eyes were turned away.

His hesitance to look up struck a chord within me, momentarily making me wobble on my decision once again.

Suddenly, something within me urged him to look at me. Part of me wanted him to stop the wedding, to show me how much he cared. Wanted him to stop me from making a terrible mistake.

But is that what I thought I was actually making? A terrible mistake?

I loved Matthew, but I loved Harry too. Both men had known me for seventeen years. Both of them had seen me at my worst, picked me up when I was a shattered mess, and been my shoulders to cry on when I'd needed one. They were my rocks. Plural. Not singular.

I'd finished my walk down the aisle, my father gave me away to Matthew with a kiss on the cheek and a stern shaking of the hand. And still Harry hadn't taken a glimpse in my direction. Not even after the reverend said the congregation may take their seats. I kept stealing glances in his direction, feeling slightly guilty with Matty right in front of me with a beaming smile. But as the congregation was asked for any reasons why we should not be joined in matrimony, he finally looked up. Our eyes locked and I saw all the regret and sadness in his glittering irises. His lips parted and my breath hitched.

Yes, I'd made my decision. I'd accepted Matty's proposal, I'd worn the big white dress and walked up the aisle, however, if Harry spoke up, if he even coughed suggestively, then I would stop the wedding.

Even at this point.

But there wasn't a peep from Harry, he simply looked back down at his shoes and it started to sink in that he was not about to start fighting.

He was letting me go...

As the reverend asked me the almighty question, "Janet, do you take Matthewn Gunn to be your lawfully wedded husband?" I completely froze.

I hesitated.

Next thing I knew, I was muttering an apology before I ran out of the banquet hall with my train in my hands, leaving everyone with eyes and mouths wide open.