Always With You

Today’s the big day. I wake up groggy and disoriented, just as everyone in the world does. I check my phone to see texts from friends and relatives: “You know what today is?”, “I never thought I’d see the day.” Texts like that flood my phone before I can even begin my morning. I pull myself out of bed with a grin that stretches ear to ear. At the bathroom sink, I scrub all 32 of my teeth until I can see my reflection through them — no excuses today. I made a promise; I’m going to be there no matter what.

In the kitchen, I hum my favorite tune while flipping pancakes. The smell drags me back to Sunday mornings with her. She always burned the first batch, swearing it added “texture.” I laugh to myself, shaking it off. No use dwelling on the past — not today. After breakfast, I shower, singing and dancing as the boiling water beats against my skin. My tux is laid out just where I left it yesterday, waiting in perfect condition.

I take my time making sure I look the absolute best I can. The sleek tux gives me a significant boost in confidence. My hair is brushed to perfection. I finish my outfit with a cologne so strong it could kill the bugs in the walls. My mirror becomes my best friend for a moment as I rehearse exactly what I’m going to say.

“I can’t believe we made it here after everything. You deserve all the happiness in the world.” Too mushy.

“Remember when we promised we’d always be there for each other? Well… here I am.” Too awkward.

“You’ve always had this way of making a room brighter. I guess today’s just proof of that.” Too damn corny.

I decide to just go with whatever my heart feels at the moment. After one last glance in the mirror, I grab my keys and head to the wedding hall.

As I drive, the smell of my cologne fills the car so strongly it makes me crack a window, mixing with the scent of asphalt. I recall our favorite trip — a road trip. She used to turn the volume way too loud, hair flying everywhere in the passenger seat. We’d sing until our throats wouldn’t let us anymore. We didn’t have a destination, just a journey. I keep checking the clock as the wind hits my face, not because I’m running late, but because I can’t. At a red light, I take another moment to think about what I’m going to say.

“Through every season, every twist of fate, I’ve carried you in my heart — and I always will.” That doesn’t even sound like me.

“I promised I’d always be there for you… and today I keep that promise.” The way it leaves my mouth doesn’t sound right.

“I promise to support you, in joy and in pain and—” HONK! I realize the light has been green for a while now. After a drive that feels like forever, I finally arrive at the wedding hall.

Inside, people greet me warmly, shaking my hand. My best friend since high school clasps my shoulder and teases, “Can’t believe this day finally came.” I laugh at his antics, although his joke barely registers — I’m already somewhere else, years back. I think about our first date. She was late, but that didn’t stop me from being stunned by her beauty when she entered the restaurant. We clicked instantly, talked for hours, and the employees had to kick us out. I learned so much about her — her favorite color, her favorite flowers, what she does in her free time.

As I daydream, the florist approaches and attempts to pin a red boutonnière to my jacket. “They’re gonna love this,” she says with a grin.

After mingling, I slip into my spot at the front — the perfect view as she walks down the aisle. She’s beautiful. No, she’s mesmerizing. I’ve known her since high school, and she’s still as beautiful as she was the day I met her. She looks amazing in her mother’s wedding dress. She’ll probably pass it down to her daughter someday. The music gets louder, piercing my ears, as a tear stings my eye, but I wipe it away before anyone notices. Her darling brown eyes catch mine, and suddenly nothing else in the world matters. My heart starts to race, the beat drowning out the noise of the music.

The priest’s voice breaks through my haze: “Does anyone object?” There is a loud silence. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Those words echo in my brain as my smile disappears. The realization hits me like a bullet train. She’s not my wife. I’m not her groom. That becomes evident when her lips meet the groom’s in a sweet embrace. She’s radiant, ecstatic, and the man holding her doesn’t even know how lucky he is. He gets to wake up next to the most amazing woman in the world every day for the rest of his life. His daughter may someday wear that amazing dress she is wearing. Envy burns through me, but I swallow it down.

After the ceremony, I wait until she is alone and approach her, wearing a smile that hurts to hold. I hand her the small box I brought.

“I told you I’d be here,” I say softly. “Even if I’m not the groom.” All that rehearsing, and I still couldn’t say anything of value. She gives me a hug and wishes me the best. “Thank you for coming. You always keep your word,” she says with a smile.

Just like that, everything is all good again. How could it not be? Her smile brings me more happiness than anything else in this world could. It was worth every agonizing minute of imagining her future without me. My smile doesn’t hurt to hold anymore. I give her one last hug before she goes to dance with her new husband. I don’t bother staying to watch them dance. I turn and leave the same way I came. Alone.