Their Freefall At Last by Julie Olivia

53

Ruby

Morning of Bennett’s Wedding

Ruby & Bennett are Thirty Years Old

When I wake up on my couch, the birds are chirping a symphony that is loud and beautiful and obnoxious.

I shove my face deeper in my pillow—maybe it will suffocate me?—and try to forget last night.

My embarrassing confession.

His rejection.

My guilt.

My shame.

And then I remember what today is, and I give a muffled scream into the pillow.

Distant footsteps walk across the living room and toward the couch, where I lie. A hand soothes my hair behind my ears.

“Up, up, best maiden,” Bennett’s mom coos. “The birds are awake, and you should be too.”

I grunt. “Do you think the whole two birds, one stone thing is actually possible?”

“Try screaming for real, and maybe we’ll scare them off instead.”

I peek one eye open, and that’s when my face immediately flushes red.

In my kitchen, standing alongside Brittney, are also Theo, Lorelei, and Quinn. They all have varying looks, but the common thread seems to be sadness and worry.

“Oh. Hi,” is all I get out.

“Hey, lady,” Quinn replies, her mouth twisting to the side. “Feelin’ all right?”

“No,” I admit.

“That’s okay,” Lorelei says, but it’s followed by silence.

What do we say? It’s my best friend’s wedding day, and there’s probably not a single person in this room who’s oblivious to my feelings for him. I’ve been carrying a lovesick boombox over my head this whole time.

Theo takes a loud slurp of coffee to fill the quiet.

“Well, let’s get this day going,” Bennett’s mom says with a clap of her hands. “We’ve got a chapel to get to and a reception buffet to eat. Want some coffee, my little gemstone?”

“No thanks.” The thought of Bennett’s reception—of him walking around with a ring on his finger—makes me sick to my stomach.

Lorelei sets her mug down and rests her chin on the arm of the couch. Her finger tucks my messy hair behind my ear. “Want me to curl your hair for today?”

Theo shakes a clear bag full of makeup. “I’ve got a smoky-eye look with your name on it.”

I glance at Quinn. “You gonna try to make me pretty too?”

She shrugs. “Nope. I’m just a gal with two ears, ready to listen and trash-talk the bride.”

The room erupts in calls of, “Quinn!” and, “Rude!” and Brittney’s very motherly, “That’s my future daughter-in-law!”

My heart sinks at that, but I try not to let it show, especially when she winces at me after.

“I think I’m just gonna get some extra sleep,” I moan, rolling over on the couch.

They descend on me like vultures—grabbing my arms, pulling me up, hoisting me in the air. They carry me to the shower, where the cold water shoots out and stings my skin, drenching me through my pajamas.

I squeal at the harsh bite of cold, but then I think I’m laughing. And suddenly, Quinn is jumping in the shower with me, fully clothed, tossing shampoo on my hair as the water slowly warms.

Lorelei takes her phone out, saying, “Ooh, ooh, I have a joke for today.”

“Why, how perfect. I love to laugh,” Bennett’s mom replies, leaning in the doorway with her mug of coffee, tossing me a little wink. “Let’s hear it.”

“Okay,” Lorelei starts with dramatic emphasis, as if she were about to tell a campfire tale. “Did you hear about the two cell phones that got married?”

I blink through the suds running down my face. Everyone stares at me to answer.

“Um …” I start, Quinn’s fingers massaging into my temples more. “No. What about them?”

“I heard the reception was amazing.”

The whole room bursts out into laughter. I can’t tell if their reaction is real or fake, but it’s a cheesy joke, and it’s just silly enough to have me laughing too.

A little laughter is better than nothing.

* * *

I stare at the little white chapel on Cedar Cliff’s Main Street. It’s the same chapel my parents got married in and where Dad married Miranda sixteen years later. The maroon double doors are propped open. It’s, admittedly, a beautiful autumn day.

I didn’t arrive at the church early, like Orson and Landon did for groomsmen festivities. I spent the morning with the girls until Bennett’s mom, with her arm looped through mine, decided it was time for us to go. Now, still arm in arm and staring at the building, Brittney nudges me with her elbow.

“Ready, kiddo? Nervous?”

“I’m not the one getting married,” I say. “I’m not allowed to be nervous.”

“You can feel however you’d like. That’s your right, okay?”

It’s not a secret, but for some reason, she says it like one.

I can do this. I’ve done so many brave things in the past year. I quit my crap job. I’ve set up boundaries with my dad. I’ve even learned how to do a pull-up, which might have been the hardest task to date.

It’s very humbling to hang three feet in the air, begging the entire gym, “Please help. Oh God, I’m going to die.”

Not my finest moment.

The point is, I’ve come so far, and yet today—a day full of laughter and nice food and wedding bells—might be the thing that breaks me.

Brittney and I step through the double doors, and when we reach the threshold with the room full of groomsmen—when I can hear my friends talking and my little brother’s giggles and Bennett’s beautiful laughter through the door—I take one step back. Then another.

“You gonna be all right?” Brittney asks.

“I don’t think I should see him yet,” I admit. “The bride wouldn’t like it.”

Brittney nods, but doesn’t argue my point. “Up to you then. But it’s not gonna get easier.”

I wince. “Can I pretend it will?”

She smiles with her head tilted to the side. “Sure, kiddo.”

Bennett’s mom disappears behind the door alone, and there’s a roar from all my friends, calling her name simultaneously, as if she were the special guest on a sitcom. Even Lucas, probably looking adorable in his ring bearer getup, says her name like they’re old friends.

I walk backward, farther and farther away, until I finally hit the main chapel. It’s small and quaint with guests here and there mulling around. Everything is decorated in white—the aisle runner, the sashes thrown over the backs of the pews, and even the roses.

Roses, just like the flowers Bennett got me for my ninth birthday.

I spot Michael in the corner, talking with Fred and Mrs. Stanley, looking gorgeous in his suit.

Oh my God, I can’t do this.

I reverse, sucking in a breath as I rush through the emergency side door. It slams shut, and I lean against the brick wall beside it. I close my eyes. New guests arrive around the corner, exchanging greetings like it’s just another Sunday morning service—not like it’s the day I’ll lose my favorite person in the world.

No. I can’t think like that. He’s my best friend, and he’s happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for him. Even if I’m not in the picture, I can be at peace, knowing that he’s happy.

He’s happy.

I don’t know how long I stand there, but my chest keeps rising and falling, trying to keep up with my whirling thoughts.

Suddenly, the exit door jams into my back as someone opens from the other side. Orson peers through the crack.

“Oh, sorry, Rubes!”

“Hi. What are you doing out here?”

“What are you doing out here?” He holds out his wrist to display his watch. The time reads nearly ten minutes until the ceremony starts.

“Oh no,” I say. “I’m so sorry. I was getting fresh air, and I lost track of time.”

He places a hand on my shoulder to steady me. He looks worried though, which makes me wonder how worried I must look too.

“You doing all right?” he asks.

“As good as I can be.”

“Well, keep that feeling. Because I’m about to bring the mood down just a little bit.”

“Why?”

Orson sucks in a breath, lets it out, then bites his bottom lip.

“Because we can’t find Bennett.”

I choke on nothing. Orson, with wide eyes, places a palm on my arm.

“What?” I hiss, blinking through my thoughts. But I have none. Not a single thought can penetrate my mind past, What, what, what, what? I’m basically singing Macklemore over here.

“We left him in the groomsmen room while we ushered in guests,” Orson explains. “And I have no idea where he is now. Checked the restrooms, the classrooms, the preacher’s office …”

“Wait, why there?”

“I don’t know.”

I let out a laugh, but it’s because I can’t hold in the anxiety coursing through me. I cope with humor instead. I always have.

“Did you think he was getting some last-minute advice?”

“I don’t know!” Orson throws his hands in the air with a laugh. “I’m panicking!”

“Okay,” I say quickly, trying to parse through my thoughts. “Okay.”

Did he run?

No. Don’t think that. He’s just somewhere they haven’t looked.

I shake off the intrusive thoughts.

“Let’s split up and see if we can find him.”

I’m sure Bennett’s just combing his brand-new, super-swanky hair. Or maybe straightening his tie in a mirror somewhere. Or shining his shoes.

Do people still do that?

Or … maybe Bennett is thinking about what I said last night.

Maybe I ruined everything for him.

No.

No, please, no.

I need to find him and get him down that aisle.