As of Yet Untitled
Karisma
Chapter Six
Genre: Alt, Romance
Parini@hotmail.com
Rated: PG-13
If anybody is interested in updating my page for me email me!!! my friend
set it up i just need someone who can update the new fics. thanks.Oh, and my
editor had gone AWOl, so i'm sorry if it is like a tad bit...rough.
The day of the wedding snuck up on all of us, except, of course, Rita. I
couldn't prove it, but I had a tiny suspicion that the woman was counting
the seconds until her name would change to Sandborn.
I woke up early that day, all traces of sleep gone from my body, and
excitement coursing through my veins. I had grown up with this boy, albeit
reluctantly, and now he was getting married.
I, of course, had chosen this day to sleep through my alarm clock. I
finally woke up when my mother was announcing breakfast. Even whirlwind
Serena couldn't get ready that fast. So, after some quick adjustments, it
was decided that I would ride to the chapel with Andrew and instead of the
girls. Darien was already at the chapel, along with Melvin and Chad, doing
whatever it was that best men, not man do.
Soon enough, I was ready in loose track pants and a shirt, racing along
my driveway to where Andrew was waiting patiently for me. I must of looked
ridiculous with my dress trailing behind me, but at least I had nixed the
idea of rollers.
"Hey," I said breathlessly as I slouched in my seat. I gently placed
the plastic wrapped dress in the back seat next to Andrew's suit and turned
to him. The groom was, indeed, looking a peculiar mixture of queasiness and
scared excitement.
"Cold feet?" I diagnosed, smirking slightly as he furiously shook his
head in denial.
After a moment of staring at dubiously, one brow cocked, he finally
gave in. "Oh, all right. Maybe just a little." He sighed in resignation when
I fixed him with another look. He made a sharp turn and rolled his eyes.
"Okay, okay. A lot. I'm scared. I'm petrified. Happy now?"
I laughed and ruffled his sandy hair. "But you'll go through with it.
You have to. Otherwise you'll be chased out of the church with about a
hundred. if not more, guests at your tail. Not to mention one ticked off bride
and a few bridesmaids!"
Andrew laughed genuinely at the mental picture and shook his head.
"I want to get married to Rita. I love her. But the idea of getting married."
He gave a low whistle. "That's, well, that's..."
"A shocker." I finished, smiling.
He furrowed his brow. "Pardon?" He raised his eyebrows.
"Oh come on," I gripped the dashboard as he made another turn. Where
did he learn to drive?
"You were after girls even before your hormones changed and puberty hit. Between you and Darien,
I figured the world would be turned off the Sandborns' in the maximum of a year."
Andrew laughed deeply, flashing the same smile I had been blessed to
see practically all my life. That was the one thing they had in common:
their smiles were identical. Or their genuine ones, I couldn't remember
seeing Darien laugh so candidly the entire time I'd been back.
"We weren't that bad. Actually, Darien still is that bad. I can't blame
him though, not after..." Andrew was interrupted by two sharp honks. My
curiosity about what Andrew was about to say disappeared when I caught sight
of Darien in the parking lot, in his suit for the wedding, leaning over his
cherry-red convertible, hand on the center of the steering wheel. He looked
mildly impatient.
"I guess that's my signal to go," Andrew said sheepishly and it was
clear to me whatever he was planning on saying a few moments before had
flown from his mind.
Before I could remind him, he was out of the car in a flash, winking
back at me before jogging up to his brother and slinging his suit over his
right shoulder. I sighed in disappointment and grabbed my own dress, waving
courteously to Darien as we made eye contact, completely aware of the
rumpled sight I made--looking as if I had just rolled out of bed.
As I got ready with the other girls and fussed over our blushing bride,
Rita, I resolved to find out what Andrew had begun to spill about Darien. A
secret of Darien's. The notion shouldn't have excited me as much as it did,
but what could I do about it? It was probably just my teenage years watching
detective shows and mystery movies catching up to me. It could be anyone's
secret and it would thrill me just as much.
Right?
"Serena, you look absolutely lovely!" Mina's voice interrupted my chain
of thoughts and brought me to look at my reflection in the mirror. I found
Mina, looking wonderful in her lavender, off-the-shoulder gown, behind me.
She began to weave iris in twist I had pulled my hair up into. I smiled at
her gratefully, admiring the matching flowers in her hair and Raye had no
doubt fixed.
"Thanks, Mina. You look great!"
"Shouldn't we be showering all these compliments on the bride?" Raye's
light voice entered our conversation and we both looked up to see her, the
same flowers contrasting beautifully with her ebony hair.
"Yes, but just think: if we all look this good, imagine how gorgeous
Rita must be!" Mina exclaimed, patting my bare shoulder as a signal she was
finished. I adjusted the criss-crossing straps on the back of my dress and
turned to face them, a bright smile on my lightly made-up face.
"I have to agree with you on that, Mina. I do look much better than all
of you unmarried women." Rita joined our party and we all laughed at her
tone, dripping with fake disdain.
"You're not married yet, you know," Raye reminded, fidgeting with
Rita's simple, white gown. She had opted for the minimal amount of lace and
beads, leaving her with a silk, thinly strapped dress that was tight down to
her hips and then fell out softly.
"Andrew's going faint when he sees you in this," Mina gently pushed
Rita into a sitting position facing the mirror and away from us. She picked
up a brush and fanned out Rita's soft brown hair around her neck and
shoulders. She signaled for Raye to bring the veil and carefully pinned it
to the top of Rita's head. She then stood back to examine her work.
Rita stood up, pushing the Victorian chair back and stared at herself
in the mirror. A flash of pain swept her face and I knew she was thinking of
her parents and wishing they could be here, especially her mother. Andrew had
informed me they had died tragically in a car crash. Well, a woman's wedding
day was no event to be depressed at, I decided.
"Do you have something old, something new, something borrowed,
something blue?" I asked, flashing her my brightest smile. I was thankful
when she smiled back.
"The earrings are heirlooms, the necklace is new, I borrowed the eye
shadow, and," she hefted her white skirt and planted her heeled foot on the
chair revealing a delicate, blue and gold butterfly anklet. She grinned. We
all burst out laughing, taking in the view of a prim bride in such a
position.
We heard the distinct sound of an organ starting and immediately
exchanged looks with each other. We took turns hugging Rita and exited the
door. I was the last to leave and when I turned to close the door, I caught
a glimpse of Rita staring at her reflection, hands nervously fingering the
veil behind her.
"Good-bye, Rita Evans," she whispered to herself and gently let the
lace conceal her face. I quickly slipped out the door before my presence was
discovered and smiled softly to myself. This was a big step Rita was
taking, Andrew too. But it was one I wanted to take soon, unlike misogynists
like Darien Sandborn. That thought only brought back my curiosity of what
Andrew had been about to say by a tenfold.
"Shall we?" Darien's low voice startled me immensely. I jumped and
blushed when I heard his deep laugh behind me. I whirled around to face him
only to find he had moved to the other side of me. I finally met him
face-to-face and scowled at his amused grin. Reluctantly, I gave him my arm
to link with, prepared to walk down the aisle with him. Instead, he took my
hand gently and softly kissed it, maintaining eye contact with me the entire
time.
I sucked in my breath involuntarily and prayed he hadn't heard. It was
impossible to tell from his reaction. It was collected and cool once again.
The mask set firmly in place. We slowly began to walk, big smiles in place.
My hands felt damp and permanently stuck to the bouquet of white lilies I
was holding. After assuring myself several times that my childishly sweaty
palms were out of nervousness for Rita, and not because of my close
proximity to Darien, or the fact that our bodies brushed every time we took
a step.
After what seemed like much to long, or was it much too short, we parted
and took our respective places. I ignored the rush of coolness after his
warm body had left the space next to mine, and watched the double doors for
Rita, my smile never faltering.
The organ changed tunes and Rita entered, a grin of true happiness and
joy etched on her lovely features. My smile widened as she began her slow
descent to her new life as Rita Sandborn and I turned to see the reaction of
Andrew as he saw his bride. The look on his handsome face was memorable. The
mixture of emotions playing on his shocked face could tell a story. He was
first awed by Rita's presence and beauty. He then moved on to soft and
tender admiration for the woman he loved, and finally settled on arrogant
glee that this was the woman that would be promised only to him.
My gaze drifted off to the other best men and, as if drawn by a magnet,
landed on Darien. He, much to my surprise, was also gazing at me, so when I
turned to him, we made direct eye contact. I stared, unable to break eye
contact, and he looked right back. After a moment, he winked and with a
grin, casually turned his attention back to the bride. I blinked in
surprise, not able to confirm if he had actually winked, or if it had been
my active imagination. One thing I derived from his behavior that I was sure
of. It was painfully obvious the 'moment' we had shared had affected me much
more than him.
The wedding passed in a blur and before I knew it, the dinner had
almost been completed and dancing had commenced. After Rita and Andrew had
taken the dance floor alone for a slow song, more people joined.
I sipped my champagne and looked at my parents, who were slow dancing
dreamily, as if on their honeymoon. I shook my head ruefully and leaned back
against the wall, fingering a fallen string of platic ivy that had
originally been hanging over the doorway as a decoration.
After a few moments, I felt somebody next to me and wasn't all that
surprised to see Darien leaning to an angle, one shoulder against the wall
and facing directly toward me. He had one hand in his black trouser pockets
and it only served as a reminder of how well he filled out his suit.
"I think your aunt is about to sing," I gestured to Darien's mother's
sister, who had gotten up on stage and adjusting the microphone to her tall
height.
Darien gently took the flute from my hand and placed it on a nearby
table. He then firmly grasped my smaller hands in both of his and tugged me
slightly. "I think you and I are about to dance."
I gave no objection as he led me to a spot on the dance floor slightly
separated from the other couples. Not sure how to position myself, I
maintained a reasonable distance and put one hand on his strong shoulder,
letting the other stay in his larger one. I forced myself to look at a
certain spot right over his shoulder and was, needless to say, surprised when
he pulled me closer to him, letting the heat from his body envelope me
almost immediately. His hands intertwined around my waist, and having
nothing to do with my hands, I let them circle around his neck, my cheek
pressed against his chest, hearing his distinct heartbeat.
The mood was all together too peacefully romantic for my liking and I
immediately felt the need to lighten it somehow.
"So when do I start work?" I tipped my head back and smiling cheerfully
into his face.
He didn't smile back, but his face wasn't as harsh and etched in stone
as it normally was. "Look around you, Serena." He moved us in a slow circle,
allowing me to take in the white, silver and gold decorations, beautiful
flowers, and happy people swaying in time to the slow music. "What do you
see?"
I was slightly confused, to say the least. "I see a reception taking
place." I answered slowly, feeling as though this was some sort of a test.
"Yes," he smiled and I squelched down the fluttery feeling in my
stomach long enough to realize I was lost on where his point was leading.
"And?" I prompted, furrowing my brow. My neck was starting to ache from
leaning back to hold this conversation with him.
"Well, it seems somewhat crass to speak only of work when we're at such
an event, don't you agree?" Without waiting for a reply, he tugged me toward
him, bringing my head to meet his chest once again in an intimate position
that I was starting to, much to my dismay, like.
"So what do you propose we talk about?" I asked, desperate to hold some
sort of reality, being it in form of light chit-chat, to this surreal dance.
"Nothing," he murmured softly in my ear and somewhere in the crevices
of my mind, a panic button was pushed.
I shoved myself away from his larger body and tore my eyes away from his
surprised face. "I-uh-I," I stumbled through the words and realized how
possessed my actions,and ability not to form coherent sentences seemed.
"I think I need to offer my congratulations to the happy couple." Without
waiting for his reaction, I hurried off in the direction of safety. Where
all the people were, away from Darien.
"Andrew!" I exclaimed and cringed at over enthusiasm in my high-pitched
voice. I could tell both he and Rita heard it when both their faces
scrunched up in concern and bewilderment. I managed to control my voice. "So
how does it feel to be tied down?"
Rita laughed and hugged me. "It feels wonderful, Serena. But you'll
find out soon enough."
Andrew snorted and I glared at him. After a moment, the three of us
laughed.
I cleared my throat and grabbed Andrew's arm. "You don't mind if I
steal him do you, Rita? I'm sure you'll get sick of him by the time the
honeymoon's over, anyway!"
Rita smiled, and I paused to think about how happy she looked. The woman
practically glowed. A sharp pang in my heart told me just how much I wanted
that. To be on top of the world when the love of my life merely smiled at
me.
Andrew's over arrogant voice broke my nostalgic attitude.
"I better go with her, Rita. She's had a thing for me every since we were kids."
I socked him one in the arm and he feigned pain.
"You wish, Sandborn."
We began dancing and I cleared my throat. This was the moment I had been
waiting for. "Andrew, what were you saying earlier today?"
"Huh?" Andrew's brilliant answer came back to me.
We slowly made a circle. "In the car, when we arrived at the church." I
prompted. "We were talking about marriage and how your brother couldn't
commit if a gun was pointed to his head."
Andrew chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "You'd be surprised, Serena dear."
My heart, or was it my stomach, gave a lurch. Did he have a steady
girlfriend, one that would be his almost wife? Why didn't he tell me? Why
didn't anybody tell me? And why did I care?
"Although now I suppose he'll never want to get married," he sighed and
shook his head regretfully.
"Why not?" I practically trembled with anticipation as I found out how
close to obtaining the information I so desperately wanted.
Andrew laughed humorlessly. "Because of that slut, Melissa." His tone
hardened and I looked up in surprise. Carefree, without a trouble in the
world Andrew looked angry enough to kill. This woman 'Melissa' had obviously
hurt his younger brother somehow and brotherly protection was showing. Then,
as quickly as the cloud over his face had come, it passed. And the sunny
grins Andrew usually displayed were once again on. "But that's all in the
past."
He looked ready to dismiss the entire unpleasant topic, but I wasn't. I
wanted, no needed, to know more. "Who is Melissa?"
Andrew grimaced. "Melissa is Darien's soon-to-be ex-wife."
Karisma
Chapter Six
Genre: Alt, Romance
Parini@hotmail.com
Rated: PG-13
If anybody is interested in updating my page for me email me!!! my friend
set it up i just need someone who can update the new fics. thanks.Oh, and my
editor had gone AWOl, so i'm sorry if it is like a tad bit...rough.
The day of the wedding snuck up on all of us, except, of course, Rita. I
couldn't prove it, but I had a tiny suspicion that the woman was counting
the seconds until her name would change to Sandborn.
I woke up early that day, all traces of sleep gone from my body, and
excitement coursing through my veins. I had grown up with this boy, albeit
reluctantly, and now he was getting married.
I, of course, had chosen this day to sleep through my alarm clock. I
finally woke up when my mother was announcing breakfast. Even whirlwind
Serena couldn't get ready that fast. So, after some quick adjustments, it
was decided that I would ride to the chapel with Andrew and instead of the
girls. Darien was already at the chapel, along with Melvin and Chad, doing
whatever it was that best men, not man do.
Soon enough, I was ready in loose track pants and a shirt, racing along
my driveway to where Andrew was waiting patiently for me. I must of looked
ridiculous with my dress trailing behind me, but at least I had nixed the
idea of rollers.
"Hey," I said breathlessly as I slouched in my seat. I gently placed
the plastic wrapped dress in the back seat next to Andrew's suit and turned
to him. The groom was, indeed, looking a peculiar mixture of queasiness and
scared excitement.
"Cold feet?" I diagnosed, smirking slightly as he furiously shook his
head in denial.
After a moment of staring at dubiously, one brow cocked, he finally
gave in. "Oh, all right. Maybe just a little." He sighed in resignation when
I fixed him with another look. He made a sharp turn and rolled his eyes.
"Okay, okay. A lot. I'm scared. I'm petrified. Happy now?"
I laughed and ruffled his sandy hair. "But you'll go through with it.
You have to. Otherwise you'll be chased out of the church with about a
hundred. if not more, guests at your tail. Not to mention one ticked off bride
and a few bridesmaids!"
Andrew laughed genuinely at the mental picture and shook his head.
"I want to get married to Rita. I love her. But the idea of getting married."
He gave a low whistle. "That's, well, that's..."
"A shocker." I finished, smiling.
He furrowed his brow. "Pardon?" He raised his eyebrows.
"Oh come on," I gripped the dashboard as he made another turn. Where
did he learn to drive?
"You were after girls even before your hormones changed and puberty hit. Between you and Darien,
I figured the world would be turned off the Sandborns' in the maximum of a year."
Andrew laughed deeply, flashing the same smile I had been blessed to
see practically all my life. That was the one thing they had in common:
their smiles were identical. Or their genuine ones, I couldn't remember
seeing Darien laugh so candidly the entire time I'd been back.
"We weren't that bad. Actually, Darien still is that bad. I can't blame
him though, not after..." Andrew was interrupted by two sharp honks. My
curiosity about what Andrew was about to say disappeared when I caught sight
of Darien in the parking lot, in his suit for the wedding, leaning over his
cherry-red convertible, hand on the center of the steering wheel. He looked
mildly impatient.
"I guess that's my signal to go," Andrew said sheepishly and it was
clear to me whatever he was planning on saying a few moments before had
flown from his mind.
Before I could remind him, he was out of the car in a flash, winking
back at me before jogging up to his brother and slinging his suit over his
right shoulder. I sighed in disappointment and grabbed my own dress, waving
courteously to Darien as we made eye contact, completely aware of the
rumpled sight I made--looking as if I had just rolled out of bed.
As I got ready with the other girls and fussed over our blushing bride,
Rita, I resolved to find out what Andrew had begun to spill about Darien. A
secret of Darien's. The notion shouldn't have excited me as much as it did,
but what could I do about it? It was probably just my teenage years watching
detective shows and mystery movies catching up to me. It could be anyone's
secret and it would thrill me just as much.
Right?
"Serena, you look absolutely lovely!" Mina's voice interrupted my chain
of thoughts and brought me to look at my reflection in the mirror. I found
Mina, looking wonderful in her lavender, off-the-shoulder gown, behind me.
She began to weave iris in twist I had pulled my hair up into. I smiled at
her gratefully, admiring the matching flowers in her hair and Raye had no
doubt fixed.
"Thanks, Mina. You look great!"
"Shouldn't we be showering all these compliments on the bride?" Raye's
light voice entered our conversation and we both looked up to see her, the
same flowers contrasting beautifully with her ebony hair.
"Yes, but just think: if we all look this good, imagine how gorgeous
Rita must be!" Mina exclaimed, patting my bare shoulder as a signal she was
finished. I adjusted the criss-crossing straps on the back of my dress and
turned to face them, a bright smile on my lightly made-up face.
"I have to agree with you on that, Mina. I do look much better than all
of you unmarried women." Rita joined our party and we all laughed at her
tone, dripping with fake disdain.
"You're not married yet, you know," Raye reminded, fidgeting with
Rita's simple, white gown. She had opted for the minimal amount of lace and
beads, leaving her with a silk, thinly strapped dress that was tight down to
her hips and then fell out softly.
"Andrew's going faint when he sees you in this," Mina gently pushed
Rita into a sitting position facing the mirror and away from us. She picked
up a brush and fanned out Rita's soft brown hair around her neck and
shoulders. She signaled for Raye to bring the veil and carefully pinned it
to the top of Rita's head. She then stood back to examine her work.
Rita stood up, pushing the Victorian chair back and stared at herself
in the mirror. A flash of pain swept her face and I knew she was thinking of
her parents and wishing they could be here, especially her mother. Andrew had
informed me they had died tragically in a car crash. Well, a woman's wedding
day was no event to be depressed at, I decided.
"Do you have something old, something new, something borrowed,
something blue?" I asked, flashing her my brightest smile. I was thankful
when she smiled back.
"The earrings are heirlooms, the necklace is new, I borrowed the eye
shadow, and," she hefted her white skirt and planted her heeled foot on the
chair revealing a delicate, blue and gold butterfly anklet. She grinned. We
all burst out laughing, taking in the view of a prim bride in such a
position.
We heard the distinct sound of an organ starting and immediately
exchanged looks with each other. We took turns hugging Rita and exited the
door. I was the last to leave and when I turned to close the door, I caught
a glimpse of Rita staring at her reflection, hands nervously fingering the
veil behind her.
"Good-bye, Rita Evans," she whispered to herself and gently let the
lace conceal her face. I quickly slipped out the door before my presence was
discovered and smiled softly to myself. This was a big step Rita was
taking, Andrew too. But it was one I wanted to take soon, unlike misogynists
like Darien Sandborn. That thought only brought back my curiosity of what
Andrew had been about to say by a tenfold.
"Shall we?" Darien's low voice startled me immensely. I jumped and
blushed when I heard his deep laugh behind me. I whirled around to face him
only to find he had moved to the other side of me. I finally met him
face-to-face and scowled at his amused grin. Reluctantly, I gave him my arm
to link with, prepared to walk down the aisle with him. Instead, he took my
hand gently and softly kissed it, maintaining eye contact with me the entire
time.
I sucked in my breath involuntarily and prayed he hadn't heard. It was
impossible to tell from his reaction. It was collected and cool once again.
The mask set firmly in place. We slowly began to walk, big smiles in place.
My hands felt damp and permanently stuck to the bouquet of white lilies I
was holding. After assuring myself several times that my childishly sweaty
palms were out of nervousness for Rita, and not because of my close
proximity to Darien, or the fact that our bodies brushed every time we took
a step.
After what seemed like much to long, or was it much too short, we parted
and took our respective places. I ignored the rush of coolness after his
warm body had left the space next to mine, and watched the double doors for
Rita, my smile never faltering.
The organ changed tunes and Rita entered, a grin of true happiness and
joy etched on her lovely features. My smile widened as she began her slow
descent to her new life as Rita Sandborn and I turned to see the reaction of
Andrew as he saw his bride. The look on his handsome face was memorable. The
mixture of emotions playing on his shocked face could tell a story. He was
first awed by Rita's presence and beauty. He then moved on to soft and
tender admiration for the woman he loved, and finally settled on arrogant
glee that this was the woman that would be promised only to him.
My gaze drifted off to the other best men and, as if drawn by a magnet,
landed on Darien. He, much to my surprise, was also gazing at me, so when I
turned to him, we made direct eye contact. I stared, unable to break eye
contact, and he looked right back. After a moment, he winked and with a
grin, casually turned his attention back to the bride. I blinked in
surprise, not able to confirm if he had actually winked, or if it had been
my active imagination. One thing I derived from his behavior that I was sure
of. It was painfully obvious the 'moment' we had shared had affected me much
more than him.
The wedding passed in a blur and before I knew it, the dinner had
almost been completed and dancing had commenced. After Rita and Andrew had
taken the dance floor alone for a slow song, more people joined.
I sipped my champagne and looked at my parents, who were slow dancing
dreamily, as if on their honeymoon. I shook my head ruefully and leaned back
against the wall, fingering a fallen string of platic ivy that had
originally been hanging over the doorway as a decoration.
After a few moments, I felt somebody next to me and wasn't all that
surprised to see Darien leaning to an angle, one shoulder against the wall
and facing directly toward me. He had one hand in his black trouser pockets
and it only served as a reminder of how well he filled out his suit.
"I think your aunt is about to sing," I gestured to Darien's mother's
sister, who had gotten up on stage and adjusting the microphone to her tall
height.
Darien gently took the flute from my hand and placed it on a nearby
table. He then firmly grasped my smaller hands in both of his and tugged me
slightly. "I think you and I are about to dance."
I gave no objection as he led me to a spot on the dance floor slightly
separated from the other couples. Not sure how to position myself, I
maintained a reasonable distance and put one hand on his strong shoulder,
letting the other stay in his larger one. I forced myself to look at a
certain spot right over his shoulder and was, needless to say, surprised when
he pulled me closer to him, letting the heat from his body envelope me
almost immediately. His hands intertwined around my waist, and having
nothing to do with my hands, I let them circle around his neck, my cheek
pressed against his chest, hearing his distinct heartbeat.
The mood was all together too peacefully romantic for my liking and I
immediately felt the need to lighten it somehow.
"So when do I start work?" I tipped my head back and smiling cheerfully
into his face.
He didn't smile back, but his face wasn't as harsh and etched in stone
as it normally was. "Look around you, Serena." He moved us in a slow circle,
allowing me to take in the white, silver and gold decorations, beautiful
flowers, and happy people swaying in time to the slow music. "What do you
see?"
I was slightly confused, to say the least. "I see a reception taking
place." I answered slowly, feeling as though this was some sort of a test.
"Yes," he smiled and I squelched down the fluttery feeling in my
stomach long enough to realize I was lost on where his point was leading.
"And?" I prompted, furrowing my brow. My neck was starting to ache from
leaning back to hold this conversation with him.
"Well, it seems somewhat crass to speak only of work when we're at such
an event, don't you agree?" Without waiting for a reply, he tugged me toward
him, bringing my head to meet his chest once again in an intimate position
that I was starting to, much to my dismay, like.
"So what do you propose we talk about?" I asked, desperate to hold some
sort of reality, being it in form of light chit-chat, to this surreal dance.
"Nothing," he murmured softly in my ear and somewhere in the crevices
of my mind, a panic button was pushed.
I shoved myself away from his larger body and tore my eyes away from his
surprised face. "I-uh-I," I stumbled through the words and realized how
possessed my actions,and ability not to form coherent sentences seemed.
"I think I need to offer my congratulations to the happy couple." Without
waiting for his reaction, I hurried off in the direction of safety. Where
all the people were, away from Darien.
"Andrew!" I exclaimed and cringed at over enthusiasm in my high-pitched
voice. I could tell both he and Rita heard it when both their faces
scrunched up in concern and bewilderment. I managed to control my voice. "So
how does it feel to be tied down?"
Rita laughed and hugged me. "It feels wonderful, Serena. But you'll
find out soon enough."
Andrew snorted and I glared at him. After a moment, the three of us
laughed.
I cleared my throat and grabbed Andrew's arm. "You don't mind if I
steal him do you, Rita? I'm sure you'll get sick of him by the time the
honeymoon's over, anyway!"
Rita smiled, and I paused to think about how happy she looked. The woman
practically glowed. A sharp pang in my heart told me just how much I wanted
that. To be on top of the world when the love of my life merely smiled at
me.
Andrew's over arrogant voice broke my nostalgic attitude.
"I better go with her, Rita. She's had a thing for me every since we were kids."
I socked him one in the arm and he feigned pain.
"You wish, Sandborn."
We began dancing and I cleared my throat. This was the moment I had been
waiting for. "Andrew, what were you saying earlier today?"
"Huh?" Andrew's brilliant answer came back to me.
We slowly made a circle. "In the car, when we arrived at the church." I
prompted. "We were talking about marriage and how your brother couldn't
commit if a gun was pointed to his head."
Andrew chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "You'd be surprised, Serena dear."
My heart, or was it my stomach, gave a lurch. Did he have a steady
girlfriend, one that would be his almost wife? Why didn't he tell me? Why
didn't anybody tell me? And why did I care?
"Although now I suppose he'll never want to get married," he sighed and
shook his head regretfully.
"Why not?" I practically trembled with anticipation as I found out how
close to obtaining the information I so desperately wanted.
Andrew laughed humorlessly. "Because of that slut, Melissa." His tone
hardened and I looked up in surprise. Carefree, without a trouble in the
world Andrew looked angry enough to kill. This woman 'Melissa' had obviously
hurt his younger brother somehow and brotherly protection was showing. Then,
as quickly as the cloud over his face had come, it passed. And the sunny
grins Andrew usually displayed were once again on. "But that's all in the
past."
He looked ready to dismiss the entire unpleasant topic, but I wasn't. I
wanted, no needed, to know more. "Who is Melissa?"
Andrew grimaced. "Melissa is Darien's soon-to-be ex-wife."