Their Freefall At Last by Julie Olivia

54

Bennett

I’m in a storage closet, and it’s an awkward, claustrophobic fit, but it’s my wedding, and if I want to sit next to bottles of window cleaner, I will.

I don’t know how I got here. I mean, I do. I ran down the hall and slammed the door behind me. But, here, thinking and thinking and thinking … that’s more complicated.

I was fine this morning. When Orson and Emory showed up at my house to hang out, everything was great. When Landon made everyone pancakes, I was fine. When my mom showed up and she and Lucas kicked our asses in a round of Mario Kart, I had no worries.

But the moment they all left me, when I was abandoned to lounge in that groomsmen room alone, I stared at my empty wrist and sank into my thoughts.

Turns out, thinking was not a good idea.

If I’m being honest with myself, it wasn’t the first time I’d stared at my wrist today. I’d just been too distracted to discern what it meant. But through every groomsman high five, every forkful of Landon’s pancakes, and every flick of the game controller to direct Mario down Rainbow Road, I was glancing at my bare wrist, trying to ignore what was missing—my pink string bracelet and those flimsy little strands that stitched my heart together.

Sitting alone, really staring at the blank space where that piece of string should have been, I felt wrong.

Off.

A stranger wearing a Bennett suit.

I burst out of the holding room and looked at the open chapel doors.

I stopped short of them. Hesitating. Swallowing. Then, I walked right past, journeying deeper into the church, getting farther from the open exit with the breeze and singing birds. I found this door instead, and now, I’m next to a mop bucket and the smell of lemons and bleach.

And for the first time, I think, Why am I here?

No. I can’t think that. I love Jolene. I love her red hair, her freckles, her smile, and—

The door rips open. I squint into the hall, and illuminated in fluorescent light, is Ruby.

Ruby.

She leans against the doorway, looking at me from head to toe.

“Hey, Pirate. You’ve got a show in five.”

I take all of her in. The ginger hair pulled up into a tight bun. The pink dress with the fabric slung near her delicate collarbone. The freckles dotting her shoulders and arms.

My eyes dart to the hall behind her and back. She nods in understanding, stepping into the tight space and snicking the door shut behind her. I give a weak smile at the fact that she can still read my mind. I wonder if that’ll ever fade. But now that we’re alone in this tight space, I regret that she did this time.

“I shouldn’t be seeing you,” I admit.

“Well, the good thing is that it won’t be bad luck.”

Because she’s not the bride.

Even now, she’s funny. She’s so funny.

“Sit with me?” I ask.

And without hesitation, she lets out an, “Mmhmm.”

Ruby plops down across from me, her legs folded to the side, glancing around at the shelves and the narrow space between us.

“So cozy,” she says, tracing a pink-painted fingernail over the broom handle beside her. “Really love what you’ve done with the place.”

I stare at her, at her capacity to make jokes, even in a situation like this. My gut twists because I appreciate it. I really do.

She clears her throat, averting her eyes to the floor. “So, did you hear about the two cell phones that got married?”

I shake my head at the conversation change.

“What?” I blurt out stupidly.

“Did you hear about the two cell phones that got married?” she repeats.

I blink at her, still taking in her freckles and gorgeous smile. Her humor. Her.

“Psst,” she says, holding her hand up to the side of her mouth and lowering her voice to a whisper. “It’s a joke. Play along.”

Slowly but surely, I smile.

“No,” I say with a chuckle. “Tell me, what happened to the cell phones that got married, Rubes?”

She inhales, then says, “I heard the reception was amazing.”

The reception was …

A sudden laugh bursts out from my chest, and it’s a relief. All the trapped energy releases at once, the nerves sliding over my shoulders and sending goose bumps down my spine.

I reach for a high five, which she returns. It feels just like old times.

Good times.

“So, why the closet?” Ruby asks. “Nervous about all the people out there?”

“Nah,” I answer. “Got a stain on my shirt. No stain-remover pens in here though.”

Her eyes drift to my shirt that definitely has zero stains. She’s got my number. Her smile starts to fade. I don’t like it.

“It’ll be fine,” I reassure her, trying so hard to stop her eyebrows as they begin to tilt in. No, please don’t be sad, Parrot. Not today. “And this groom right here is gonna be fine too.”

There’s a twitch at the edge of her pink lips.

“Y’know, ‘The Groom Is Fine’ could definitely be a song title,” she suggests.

I play along. “Oh, it would have to be on a mix CD.”

“Called Songs about Forever?”

“I can hear the commercial now.”

“Airs at midnight or two in the morning, right?”

“Wakes you up from your sleep on the couch.”

“Celine Dion is the headliner,” she says, then excitedly adds, “Or Etta James!”

I raise a fist to the air and bite my lip in joking exaggeration. “Now, that’s what I call music.”

We both laugh, and my heart flutters like a caged bird. Even when I mentally tell it to stop, it keeps on flapping.

“Yeah,” she says. “You’re gonna be fine.” Then, she jerks her chin toward the door. “Now, let’s get back out there, huh?”

I can’t believe how supportive she’s being—this woman, who, only yesterday, tried to get a piece of happiness all for herself. And yet, now, she’s here, mustering all the courage she can and doing what needs to be done for me to find my happiness.

Thanks, Parrot.

Her lips curl in, and that one simple movement—the subtle little bite of pink lips—is what has my heart beating faster, and its rhythm is to the added beat of, Mine.

Mine, mine, mine.

My Ruby.

And right as I think it, I swear I see her eyes start to well up.

“Oh, Rubes …”

I reach out for her hand, sliding up to her wrist. Bare, just like mine. I shouldn’t be touching her, but I can’t stop. I press my thumb to feel her pulse, hoping the beating of her heart can jump-start my own.

This is it, isn’t it? This is our end.

“Bennett, it’s your wedding day.”

Ruby tries to smile, but it’s so forced and mournful on her beautiful lips. But I did this. I forced her to be this brave.

“You should go out there. Let Jolene see her handsome husband, okay?”

My eyes start to sting, and my nose hurts, too, because, yes, this is it for us, and maybe I’ll see her after, but will she even stay for the reception? Would I if she were here, marrying Michael?

I clench my jaw tighter, willing the tears to not fall, but I still feel the burning and finally the release.

This is it.

Ruby reaches across the small closet space, lifting her thumb to wipe a tear rolling down my cheek. I lean into her palm before she slides it away.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “Some nice pirate once told me it’s okay to cry if you need to.”

And that cements it for me.

I love her.

There’s no way around it.

I am currently in love with, have always been in love with, and will continue to be in love with my best friend, Amelia Ruby Sullivan. I don’t know when it started, but I know it will never end. Not for me.

I love Jolene, but in a different way.

I love Ruby in a soul mate kind of way.

Ruby from a few years ago didn’t want commitment. And maybe she won’t now, but I don’t care. That’s a bridge I’ll cross later. The truth is, I can’t marry anyone else when the person across from me is the one sacrifice I can’t make. When someone like that exists, you make your own sacrifices to keep them. And I’d let go of anything to keep Ruby.

She’s been so brave, finding me and pointing me down the aisle toward what she thinks is my perfect future—even though she wants something different. And I need to be brave as well.

If she can have courage, so can I.

Which is why I sniff back my tears, take a deep breath, and say, “I can’t get married today.”