Fiction

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I am sure there are worse things than watching your best friend marry your ex-boyfriend, but at this particular time, as I stand beside Samantha, wearing an obnoxious pink and white ruffled chiffon dress, I cannot think of any.

Lord I know that You want us to learn from every situation, but I am finding it mighty hard to see the lesson in this one.

The truth is I have been trying to find the lesson in all of this from the moment Samantha shrieked across the phone that she was marrying Nathan Scott and that I was to be her maid of honour. For a full five moments I was dumbstruck, which was alright since Samantha was too busy telling me about the first time they met to notice.

After she hung up the phone my migraine started, and it has stayed with me through my various bouts of depression, anger and self pity; through the three hour plane ride back home to Florida; through the dress fittings; the bridal shower of inappropriate gifts; and the cake tasting. And it has continued right on through to today, the wedding day. As I listen to the minister drone on about love and eternity I resist the urge to reach up and massage my temples.

I suppose that this situation could have been avoided if Samantha had known about my past with Nathan. Maybe if she had known how we had met in bible school when we were both 15, how we were inseparable for almost four years before he went off to college. How I cried for an entire summer after he left, and how I still was not over him. Maybe if she knew all that, then this would never have happened.

But I met Samantha while I was in college and I never told her about Nathan. In fact I never talked about Nathan after he left. After you’ve cried about something long enough, it often seems like there’s nothing left to say.

It’s funny how Nathan never mentioned me to her either. I guess I wasn’t that important. I feel a wave of nausea wash over me at that thought, and I wonder if I will make it through this ceremony.

Wouldn’t it be something if I passed out in the middle of their vows? That would stop the wedding. Then he would have to look at me, instead of avoiding me like he has been though out the past two weeks. If I am honest, I must say that the avoiding was not all on his side.

Two weeks. I can’t believe I sacrificed half a year’s vacation time for this. I really am a sucker for torture.

Again Lord, why am I here?

I resist the urge to fidget as the scratchy lining of the hideous dress begins to irritate my skin. I am getting that jittery restless feeling in my stomach again, like I want to cry, or scream, both of which would be highly inappropriate. I look around to try and distract myself.

Bad move.

Somehow me eyes have met Nathan’s over Samantha’s shoulder. I am searching for something, anything to tell me why he is doing this. Why, of all the girls in the world, did he choose to be in love with my best friend? Why wasn’t I good enough?

Instead his eyes seem to be searching me, peering into me, looking for something. And then I see it; the one thing that I cannot bear from him.

Pity.

He knows. And he feels sorry.

Sorry for me.

I feel the tears coming and I know that if they start falling Nathan will not be the only one looking at me with pity. For his sister and parents are sitting on the other side of the aisle, and even if Samantha does not know why I am crying, they will.

I close my eyes and beg for a miracle.

Lord, I need you. I can’t do this. I can’t.

Seemingly out of nowhere the words quietly come to me, wrapping their warmth around me like a comforting blanket, flowing through me like a wave of calm.

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusteth in Thee.

My breathing starts to even out and I feel a strange peace overtake me.

I open my eyes and see Nathan gazing at Samantha lovingly. I brace myself for the feelings of depression and loneliness that I expect to hit me, but they never come. Instead I feel more of His peace buoy me up, like a life boat coming in at the end of a storm.

Before I know it the ceremony is over and I am walking down the aisle behind the happy couple. I paste on the plastic smile I have been wearing all weekend and make my way out of the church with the celebrating mob of family and well wishers.

As I stand on the steps of the church, away from the crowd, I hear the rustling of the leaves from the oak tree sheltering the entrance. I look up just in time to catch a few rays of sunlight streaming through the clustering of branches and leaves, as a warm breeze sweeps my bare shoulders and shakes the ruffles on my dress.

I find myself smiling a real smile for the first time since I got off the plane.

Lord, I still don’t know what you’re trying to teach me. But that’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here with me anyway.

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