The Etiquette of Smoking

Epilogue

"You look beautiful." Ian smiled as he pinched a stay strand of my hair between his fingers and brushed it away from my forehead. I laughed lightly, beaming at him gratefully.

"Thanks. I feel like I'm gonna pass out, my heart is racing so fast." I confessed, taking a deep breath in an effort to steady my wildly beating heart.

"Hey, it's alright," He lightly pat me on my hand before handing me my bouquet of white lilies and a wicked grin took over his face. "It's not too late to bail, ya know."

I raised a single brow at him.

"No, I'm not running." I stated confidently as I turned to look at myself in the full length mirror. I ran a single hand over my hair, soothing the visible strays back into shape with the rest of my loose curls. When the sound of music came through the large wooden doors, Ian and I turned to face each other. While I'm sure mine was one of fear, his was one of questioning.

I exhaled loudly through my mouth as my heartbeat picked up so hard and fast it was painful.

"I'm gonna throw up." I whined, holding my palm to my chest and taking heaving breaths. Ian adjusted his tie in the mirror before turning and shooting me a pointed look.

"No time for that now, Liv. Let's go." He moved behind me, bending down to fix the train of my gown before he stood and took my arm in his.

"Ready?" He asked, looking down on me as he led me to stand directly in front of the doors. I swallowed the thick lump in my throat and nodded.

"Yeah. Let's do this."

The doors opened for us and the warm spring outside air rushed in, hitting us with the fragrant, sweet scent of cherry blossoms.

I let Ian take the first step and pull me along until I found my stride beside him. We walked steadily together, arm in arm, down the pink petal covered aisle.

My eyes searched, scanning the familiar and unfamiliar faces in the crowd before they eventually parted as we grew closer and I saw him.

There he stood, grinning widely. The crinkles around his eyes and adorable dimples providing testament to his happiness.

He's a beam of sunlight. His face, his smile, his eyes, each and everything lights up my world. My heart skips a beat every time I see him, even after four years together, it never fails.

Before I met him, I'd convinced myself there was no such thing as real love or soulmates. I thought the latter was a word people threw around that they didn't really mean, like love in general. Years of being told 'this is normal, stick it out' left me bitter and jaded when it came to that sort of thing. I thought maybe there was something wrong with me, there had to be. Everyone seems so to find the loves of their lives so easily, maybe I'm the problem.

I've been told I was loved by people who didn't really love me, and betrayed by those who said they would never hurt me. So, I chalked the notion of 'soulmates' up to the same pretty, meaningless drabble that people spit in the heat of the moment. It's not real, I had told myself. It's just people fooling themselves to keep from facing the sad reality.

That theory came to a grinding halt the day he walked into my life. When he kissed me up on the roof the first time, I felt it in my bones. It was like a pull from a force beyond me saying this is my other half, this is it. I am complete now. Electricity shot through my veins, a sign that every fiber of my body was screaming to look at what was right in front of me.

I guess I did the same for him too.

"--I tried so hard not to look at you, not to touch you, not to fall in love with you, believe me," he'd told me once a couple years ago after a particularly nasty fight we had. I'd been crying and we were on the verge of breaking up when the air shifted and we both slumped in exhaustion. Despite the things I'd said to him, he still comforted me; wiping the tears out from under my eyes with both thumbs.