Seven Years, Two Days, & A Moment

IV. Final Day

Before Freddie could even catch his breath, the day of the wedding was upon him, and he was standing in a dressing room, all decked out in a tux with gel in his hair, straightening his bowtie in the mirror while his mother fussed with the way his hair stood up.

He stared blankly at his reflection, not feeling many emotions. The day had come too soon for him and he wasn't sure if he was ready… But that didn't really matter, because he was going to go through with it either way, wasn't he?

"Fredward, I really don't – "

"MOM! It's fine!" Freddie finally snapped, slapping his mother's persistent hand away from his hair.

She sighed in defeat and walked around to face him instead. As she inspected him up and down, a grin spread across her face.

"Oh, Freddie… I'm so proud of you, finally getting married," she beamed, straightening his bowtie for him. "And not a day too soon. I can't wait to see those grandkids – "

"Ma, enough, alright?" Freddie scolded, shaking his head. "Could you just… gimme a minute or two alone please?"

Mrs. Benson furrowed her brow in concern. "Fredward… what's wrong? Are you nervous? Sweetie, it's okay if you are, but you don't need to be. This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life!"

"I know, Mom. I'd just like a few minutes of privacy to… collect myself. Okay?" he explained, trying to be nicer and persuade his mother to leave him alone despite his rising anger and frustration.

Mrs. Benson sighed and patted her only son on the shoulder, then nodded. "Alright. I'll go check on the caterer and the DJ and make sure everything is set up for when Sam walks down the aisle. If you need me, just holler."

Freddie nodded and remained standing in his spot until his mother had left the room, shutting the door behind her. He immediately dashed over and locked the door, then leaned against it, relieved to finally have his privacy that he so desperately craved.

Taking a deep breath, he walked back over to the chair in front of the vanity and sat down, picking up his wallet from the top of the vanity table and opening it. He slipped his fingers inside a small pocket and pulled out a folded-up picture. He unfolded it, setting his wallet back down on the vanity table, and held the photo in his hands. Then, he just stared at it.

He couldn't help but smile at the old photo - the glow on the young Carly's face and the way her arm was wrapped around the young Freddie's waist. It was one of those moments he treasured most – the moments that seemed insignificant to someone else, but that meant the world to him. He'd always felt some sort of relief and security having Carly so near. Just her presence –

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door. He rushed to fold the photo back up and stuff it into his wallet before calling out, "Wh-who is it?"

"It's me. Let me in."

Freddie narrowed his eyes in confusion, getting up and walking to the door but not opening it. "Sam? I'm not supposed to see you before the ceremony, remember? It's bad luck."

He could hear a scoff through the door. "Please, you really believe that crap? Just let me in."

He shrugged, not caring if she didn't care, and unlocked and opened the door to reveal his bride. The white dress hugged Sam's curves and flowed down her back, leaving a long train behind her. Her veil was pushed back and she was holding up a lot of her dress so she could walk. She quickly pushed past Freddie and entered his dressing room, shutting the door and facing him.

"Whadd'you need, Sam?" he asked.

Sam gave him a look like he should've known what she was there for. "C'mon, Fredward… I may be blonde, but I'm not dumb."

Freddie shook his head and faked a smile, shoving his hands into the pockets of his tux pants. "Nothing's wrong, Sam. I'm just… a little nervous, okay? I mean, it's our wedding day – "

He was interrupted when his blonde bride grabbed his wrist and yanked his left hand from his pocket, glancing at it then back at him. "You only put your hands in your pockets like that when you're either lying about something or about to ask me to marry you… and the latter has already happened, so…"

He looked down at Sam's small hand clutching his wrist before pulling it out of her grasp and resting both of his hands at his sides. He tried to think of a comeback for her, but he had nothing. He sighed, looking down in shame.

"It's nothing… Just… don't worry about it, really."

"No, I'm not gonna just not worry about it. It's our wedding day. Now tell me what's wrong," Sam demanded.

Freddie shook his head and pursed his lips.

"Okay, you really expect me to marry you if you won't even tell me the truth right now?" she countered, causing him to look up at her in shock. "Seriously, Freddie, c'mon. When have you not been able to tell me something?"

She was right – ever since college, Freddie and Sam had grown a lot closer in the sense that they shared everything, which was one of the reasons their relationship seemed to work for so long. But there had always been one thing that Freddie had refused to ever share with anyone, even Sam, and there was no way he was going to spill now.

"Forget it, Sam. I promise, it's just nerves," he stated with finality.

He turned around and began absent-mindedly adjusting his bowtie in the mirror, even though it was already perfect. He waited for Sam to give up and leave, but she remained standing behind him, watching him with patience.

He was just about to open his mouth and suggest she leave to get ready to walk down the aisle when she spoke up with something that made him completely freeze where he was standing.

"It's Carly, isn't it?"

Freddie didn't know how to respond. His mouth fell open just slightly and his hands dropped down to his sides. Any words that could save him were trapped underneath a knot in his throat and suddenly, his tux was feeling awfully warm.

Sam watched his reaction to her words in the mirror and merely crossed her arms in front of her, shifting her weight to one foot and waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she added, "You can tell me, Freddie… All I want is the truth, y'know."

Instead of telling the truth, though, he tried to steer clear of the subject. "What do you mean, 'it's Carly'? What's that even supposed to mean?"

Sam sighed and cocked an eyebrow. "You know exactly what it means."

"Well… if you're talking about how she couldn't make it here today, then yeah, I do. I mean, it's really upsetting that our best friend can't be here for our wedding," he quickly improvised. "It's not everyday we get married, y'know."

He added a nervous chuckle at the end, trying to be light-hearted about it, but it elicited nothing but more impatience from Sam.

"Freddie, if you don't tell me the truth, I'm going to put you in a headlock until you do."

Freddie gulped, knowing all too well how serious she was – the abuse had definitely not stopped just because they were dating (Sam had a tendency to want things her way, and if Freddie didn't oblige… well, she usually forced him to).

"Okay, okay," he finally sighed, stepping away and taking a seat in the vanity stool again. He rested his elbows on his knees then buried his face in his hands. He felt absolutely ashamed to be admitting any of his feelings to Sam, but there was no getting out of it now. "I…"

He didn't even know what to say. What was there to say?

"Yeah, so I'm still in love with Carly but I'm marrying you because… well, I'm almost thirty and I need to move on with life and you're the only woman besides my mom who loves me! Now let's go get hitched, baby!"

No.

He shook his head, searching inside of his head for the right words.

But before he could say anything, Sam said it for him.

"You still love her… don't you?"

to be continued…