Ezra knew he shouldn't be there. He had already broken her heart, not to mention his own, and he knew he should respect her more than to be back in Rosewood. He needed to leave, and even though he didn't plan on leaving forever, as he often found solace in the little town of Rosewood, Ezra knew he needed to leave. For her sake more than for his own, but really he was lying to himself if he tried to deny the hurt he felt. Even thinking her name hurt. The years of memories he had circling around in his head, and even the more recent ones, did not help his cause. He didn't know how to feel about his choices, and he wasn't going to think about them. He had tortured himself with what-ifs for weeks, and had come to the conclusion that he was in fact, a horrible person, and he didn't deserve to be forgiven, and he knew he would never be deserving of her love again.
He sat in the chair at his favorite table, nibbling on the crumbs of a brownie and staring into his empty cup of coffee, hoping it would help him find the answers, or at least give him the kick in the butt he needed to leave town for good. The laughs and loud chatter of the other townspeople and the high-schoolers that frequently vacated the popular coffee house were drowned out by his thoughts, and the battle between what he knew was right, and what he was doing.
It was ironic, starting back at the beginning, ignoring the screaming voices in his head that told him he was wrong, that his choices and decisions were downright immoral, and he chuckled at his circumstances, not really finding it funny at all. What had happened to his strength, what had happened to him knowing that his wrongs maybe weren't so wrong at all? This time, he knew he shouldn't be there, and he could help but thinking if others knew what he had done, they would think so too.
It had been some sort of weird feeling that had dragged him back to Rosewood, a town bursting with secrets, a town that held his own, and he hadn't tried to deny it. Sitting alone in his hotel room, trying to figure out what his next move was, where he should leave knowing everything that had ever felt like home to him was back in Rosewood, he had pondered the possibilities for days. His forever, or what he had pretended could be, was back in Rosewood, most likely going to school with her three friends that without a doubt hated him too. He never feared being hated by anyone but her, not her parents, not his parents, not even her friends, but knowing that he had broken her heart and he would never be the one to put it back together caused his pitiful fantasy to come crumbling down. If he left Rosewood forever, he risked never seeing her long, dark curls again, or the smile on her face when she found something amusing. He risked missing the moments that had made him fall in love with her in the first place. And as much as he loved her and had liked to pretend he could have hid his secret forever, he should have known his happiness and success in his professional life would be the undoing of any over-all personal happiness he had hoped to find in life, especially being in love with her as much as he was. Her finding out the way she had, in the context that she had, had not been ideal, and he wished he could have saved her from seeing it when she did. He had had a plan for how he would tell her, and it in no way would it have saved her from the pain of his betrayal or the means in which he went about writing what he had, but he had let himself believe she would still want him, still want their forever.
The small flyer that sat beside him on the table taunted him, and he knew he was smarter than the choice he was going to make. Trying to see her one last time would hurt enough, but knowing he had to go to the DiLaurentis's would just raise questions if he were to be caught. The chances of her being there, especially after her reading the manuscript, were slim, but he knew her tenacity, and her friends, would probably lead to them digging around to find out more answers. He scoffed, and instantly regretted it. They deserved the answers. But so did he. He had talked himself into this far enough, and he knew that it was important he followed it through as to not have too many more regrets. That was enough for him to stand up and put on his dark coat, and walk by the barista, waving to a few old students as he left.
He pulled up in his car a few blocks away, slightly in the bush that was beside most roads in the more wealthy part of Rosewood, hoping it would hide it. He walked through the trees and busing, pushing away the branches that were in his path. Finally, he stood across the road from the lit house, and he could see the makeshift valet parking in the front drive, with two boys standing around. There were bouquets with pink flowers on the door and taffeta draping the porch railings. He crossed the road without any notice, and turned into the back yard. He crossed the yard quickly and stood in the shadow of the large trees in the back. He could see the bustling around that was going on in the house, but he needed a better view in order to see inside. Luckily, someone opened the large doors and it gave him a better view. From what he could see, there were racks of white dresses taking up a better part of the room, and the other space was occupied by small vanities with makeup and hair supplies scattered around. Women young and old crossed through the room, and he had a hard time picking them out from one another. He was just about to turn around and maybe go around the other side of the house when he saw the flash of blonde hair and loud, sassy voice that was Hanna Marin's. Her mother followed closely behind her, a clipboard in front of her that she focused her attention on. He stopped, and realized with a stab of pain in his stomach that if Hanna was volunteering with Mrs. D's event, the other girls were probably as well. His thoughts were confirmed when a brunette, not the one he yearned to see, but still a confirmation, entered the room, followed by another. Emily and Spencer, Ezra thought, shaking his head. They were all in wedding dresses, and though Ezra wasn't completely surprised the girls were there, he was surprised they were so committed. The noise quieted down in the room as Ms. Marin got everyone's attention and announced five minutes to the show.
Ezra got lost in his thoughts for a moment, dragging his attention away from the action in the room and back to those debating morals in his head. He should probably leave, before he was spotted. He turned to do so, before he heard a voice that he knew he would recognize thirty years from now, no matter where he was.
"Sorry, guys, I was just talking to my mom," Ezra heard, and he whipped his head around to see the most gorgeous, heartbreaking thing he knew he would ever see. His fantasies of what his forever once could have looked like were playing out right in front of him. Worst of all, he knew there was no conceivable way this could be his reality after what he had done.
She stood in the room- Aria-surrounded by her friends, rather nonchalant, and Ezra could not believe how beautiful she looked. Her curls were perfect, sitting just below her shoulders, and she had an intricate, sparkly headband on her head, with a veil cascading down her back starting at the middle of her head. The pearls around her neck were classic and scattered and so- her. The dress was something else, and he felt as though someone was trying to taunt him. It wasn't what he had always envisioned her in, and he couldn't imagine her picking it out herself, but something about it in that moment screamed perfect. Perfect and unfortunate and awful, and in no way how he wanted to see Aria in a wedding dress for the first time. The pain in his stomach was nothing like he had imagined it feeling. He knew it would hurt seeing her, knowing he had promised himself this would be the last time, but now he would be haunted with this image of her that he knew he would never be able to shake. He felt the hot tears on his face, but made no movement to wipe them away. He had thought not seeing her one last time would haunt him forever, but now he knew he had been wrong, and this last visit, this last image, would haunt him much longer.
Aria zoned out of the conversation her friends were having for a moment, and looked outside absentmindedly. Her heart raced as she thought she spotted someone who raised so much heartbreak and hate. But she looked down at herself and could not help but wish that things had turned out differently. She hoped, while hating herself, that maybe Ezra had decided to make one last unknown visit, and that maybe, he had seen her in the dress, and had thought too of the future that might have been.
"Aria?" Spencer asked, shaking Aria from the thoughts she knew were unhealthy. "You okay?"
"Fine" Aria replied back, taking one last glance into the backyard, and then putting her attention back on her friend's conversation.
