You Shine

Sadie Grace Covington was late, and she was never late. The only time she had been late for anything was in the second grade for a dentist appointment, and even then, her mother had booked it early enough in the morning that Sadie had only missed the first fifteen minutes of her morning class.

She was late to her own brother’s engagement party - the party she had decorated. She had spent months just debating on the colour palette. (Blush pink, gold, and white.) Had dedicated every waking moment of the last three and half months to this party, treated it as if it were her own engagement party.

And she was late.

She had just wanted to get the perfect dessert wine. One that everyone would like. One that her brother Carter and his fiancé Clarissa would love.

It’s just wine. Get what looks good, Cross would say. He would be shrugging those broad shoulders and his hands would be in the pockets of his jeans, casually looking around at all the different wines. Cross could admire every bottle of wine without getting lost in the task. He wouldn’t spend thirty minutes in the aisle staring and staring and staring. He wouldn’t be overwhelmed by all the choices. He wouldn’t stand there like a fool wondering which choice was the right one. He would simply snag a bottle from the shelf and study it for half a moment. This looks good, he’d say.

But there wasn’t enough time for Sadie to think about Owen Cross. Already she’d spent half the day wondering if he would be there. Of course, he would. Cross was Carter’s best friend, and she would have to face him again at some point. There was no doubt that he would be at Carter’s wedding, most likely his best man, and most likely with a new girl on his arm. A new girl that wasn’t her. A new girl that was beautiful and slim, maybe without dimples, and no freckles on her nose. A new girl that was not Sadie Grace Covington.

Sadie slammed her car into park and then checked the time once again. Twenty minutes late. Twenty. She should have just stayed at the venue this afternoon. She had nearly spent the entire day finishing the final touches of every decoration but had gone home to change and buy that God forsaken dessert wine.

What if Clarissa hated everything? What if Clarissa hadn’t wanted blush pink? Was blush pink true to Clarissa? She was so laid-back-- considering she just handed all the decorating over to Sadie and asked for it to be a surprise– perhaps, she should have gone for Robin’s egg blue or yellow or a cool toned grey.

Sadie stopped herself there. She would worry about it when she got into the party. Sadie slammed the car door behind her and rushed into the sixteen-floor building. The party was on the top floor – the perfect destination for a skyline view. The sun had finally gone down which meant the city lights would be sparkling. But it also meant it was going to take her at least five more minutes to get there.

She should have been more prepared. She should have planned ahead. If she hadn’t been so consumed with the decorations, she would have managed her time better. But she was here that was all that mattered, right? That’s what Cross would say.

Damn Owen Cross! She couldn’t get him to care about anything! But that wasn’t completely true. He was good. He would always be good. It was Sadie that wasn’t good. It was Sadie that was obsessive and annoying and overbearing. So much so that she lost him. She had let him slip through her fingertips. But it had been his fault for being too laid back. For not caring enough about these things. It had always been her doing the caring.

Sadie pressed the elevator button harder than she should have. Finally, the sweet ding of the elevator and its doors opening to accept her. Sadie had released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Everything inside of her was coiled too tightly. She practically leapt into the small space, clicking the number sixteen repeatedly like an impatient child.

The doors had just begun to close when she heard a grunt, “Hold the doors!” just as a big hand slid between the small crevice and the doors flung open again. A large body stumbled in, forcing Sadie into the corner. “Sixteenth floor,” he grunted.

He hadn’t yet looked at her, but Sadie was looking at him. Owen Cross. The last memory she had of him wasn’t a good one. His back was turned to her and he was walking down the porch steps away from her. Her heart ached.

“Cross,” she murmured.

That was when he finally looked up. Brown eyes met hers, surprise lighting them. Brown eyes that she was too familiar with. Eyes that she’d seen peer up at her on the swing set when they were kids. Eyes that she knew as a teenager, watching her from across the kitchen, a turkey sandwich stuffed into his mouth, but then looked away when she caught his gaze. Eyes that, eight months ago, hadn’t looked at her but into her when he’d said he loved her.

Cross swallowed as they stared. The elevator had started moving. “Hey,” he murmured back and then frowned. “You’re late."

Sadie laughed, but it sounded sad even to her own ears. “I know. I was-“ Sadie swallowed hard. “I was choosing a wine.”

Cross nodded slowly. “How are you?” he asked, but it sounded stilted, just like the air felt.

Sadie wasn’t used to it being awkward between them. Cross had always felt like home. The one person she could relax around, and that revelation made her sad. Cross wasn’t home anymore.

“Good, actually-"

A loud screeching reverberated off the metal walls and then there was a loud thunk. Sadie lost her balance and half-fell into the wall, caught only by her shoulder.

“You’re shitting me,” Cross exhaled.

“What—Are we stuck?” Sadie’s eyes widened. Panic flared in her chest, thick and hot. The look on his face was the only confirmation she needed. “No. No. We’re not stuck. We’re not!”

“We are,” Cross replied. “It’s fine. I’m sure there’s staff we could call.” Cross was already the picture of calm, ready to be the hero. “The good news is the lights are still on, so it probably won’t take long. Fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes?” Sadie shrieked.

Cross didn’t reply as he leaned forward pressing the elevator’s call button. It didn’t take long for the maintenance team to answer. Cross smoothly explained the situation, all facts and zero panic while anxiety sat like a burning flame in Sadie’s chest.

“See,” Cross said finally. “A technician will be here soon. Nothing to worry about, Sadie Grace.”

“This can’t be happening,” Sadie squeaked. “Thirty-five minutes late.”

Cross settled down on the ground. “It’ll be fine,” he assured. “Just send Carter a text.”    

“You don’t understand. I decorated. What if something needs to be fixed? I should have been there early to make sure everything was perfect. What if someone moved the balloons?”

“Sadie Grace,” Cross cut in, whisking out his phone and sending the text to Carter himself. “It’ll be fine. You can just move them back to where you want them, but I’m sure nobody touched them.”

Swallowing hard, Sadie’s throat felt like it was full of cotton. Squeezing the neck of the wine bottle, she slowly sat down next to Cross, but kept as much distance between them as she could.

“You’re sure it’ll be fifteen minutes?"

Cross had his arms folded over his chest, head leaned back. “I hope so.”

“You hope so?”

Cross half laughed. “Sadie Grace, relax.” She was so busy worrying her bottom lip that she hadn’t noticed the thoughtful silence or that Cross’s gaze was on the side of her face. “You look beautiful.”

 Sadie glanced at him, then down to her (blush) pink dress and flushed. “Thank you. You…look nice, too.”         

And he did. He wore a black dress shirt and his nicest pair of jeans. She knew without a doubt no one could wrestle him into a pair of dress pants or a suit, but the blazer was a nice change. One she never thought she would get to see. She was glad to witness it.

Cross looked away from her, swallowing.

 “Um,” Sadie smoothed her hands down the short, ruffled skirt of her dress. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Christ, Sadie Grace! We broke up four months ago. Who the hell do you think I am? Of course not!” He sounded disgusted. Disgusted and angry. With her. Then he turned his disgusted and angry gaze to her. “Are you seeing someone?”

“No!” Sadie snapped. “I just thought…”

“You thought what?” he spat. “You thought I broke up with you and hit someone else up? You thought I had someone already lined up? Someone better?”

The comment stung. 

“Don’t you dare use that against me,” she argued, feebly.

“Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?” Cross replied. “You spent our entire relationship picking everything apart. Picking yourself apart. You weren’t dressed nice enough. Your waist wasn’t small enough. Your hair wasn’t curled enough. There were too many pieces out or not enough out. You don’t like your laugh. You don’t like your name. You don’t like the way you talk. You don’t like-“ Cross stopped, a muscle in his jaw jumping. He shook his head and looked down.

“Oh, I’m sorry I have insecurities,” Sadie snapped. “I’m sorry I care about things.”

 “That’s not it,” Cross replied. “Nothing was ever enough for you. I was never enough for you.”

 “That’s not true,” Sadie said, her heart hurting enough that she felt it like a swollen balloon in her throat, expanding.

“Yes, it is. It didn’t matter what I said or what I did. I could never—” Cross shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” It mattered to her.

There was a moment of silence between them, except for the buzzing of the fluorescent elevator lights. Sadie stared at his broad frame sitting next to her. His big shoulders, his strong knuckles, and his long legs extended in front of him. He still wore those black boots she’d always begged him to trade away for nicer sneakers, and half of her ached at this. Owen Cross never had the need to fit in anywhere. He just did -- by showing up, by being him. There was no squeezing himself into belonging. No reforming himself to fit into the room. It was something she envied, but also admired.

She took in the soft shadow of facial hair on his jawline. He’d never had facial hair as long as she’d known him. They, of course, had been kids when they’d met, but even as he grew older, as he gained height and width, he’d always shaved.

Then, she blurted, “You never included me in anything.” For half a second she wanted to pull the words back into her, shove them down and place a lid over them. But they were out there, and they were true. “You never let me be part of anything.”

Cross whipped his incredulous gaze to hers and she hadn’t been prepared to look him in the eye, but she refused to look away. “I what?”

“You always pushed me away.” A wet sheen had filmed over her eyes. “You never…You always thought you had to do things alone. You never wanted help. You pushed and pushed and pushed.”

Cross huffed, looking away from her. He laid his head back against the wall of the elevator, arms still folded, guarded. He dragged his tongue along the top row of his teeth. It was Owen Cross lingo for: back off. “I’ve told you more about my parents than anyone. Even Carter.”

“Telling me things and letting me in, letting me have a part in it with you are two completely different things, Cross,” she said, softly, studying the dessert wine in her lap. “You were alone, Cross, even when there were people in the room. When I was in the room, but not because you were left alone. You never let anybody in.”

“I let you in,” Cross said, a little bit hoarsely. “I let you in more than anyone, but still you—”

Before Cross could say any further, there was a clunking sound from the outside. A soft shuffling.

“What’s happening?” Sadie asked, voice tight with panic.

Cross stood up quickly. “I think the technician is here.” He whisked his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. “See, barely even ten minutes.” Cross flashed a quick grin, but there was something strained about it.

Sadie scrambled up, dusting off her dress. It was barely a couple minutes later that the doors sprung open and on the other side was the technician and a security member, along with unfamiliar curious faces. Sadie combed some pieces of hair down with her fingertips and accepted the arm of the technician who escorted her and Cross out of the elevator.

“I need to go,” Sadie announced, straightening her posture. She didn’t wait for Cross—couldn’t wait for him. She was too late to waste another minute at this elevator, and whatever it was that had been wrong with it.

That and she’d desperately wanted to get away from Owen Cross. The man who seemed determined to keep tearing her heart to shreds.

Sadie didn’t bother with a text to her brother. She hurried down the hall until she could hear the soft timber of music from within the loft and joyful laughter. Swinging the door open, she saw blush pink (identical to her dress), cream, and gold strung along the walls. Streamers hung from the ceilings, balloons taped against the walls, and a banner that read out CARTER AND CLARISSA in beautiful cursive.

Sadie released a breath. The stress relinquishing from her body within that breath. She’d made it.

But she was late.

Softly, the familiar pattern of steps behind her came to a stop.

“Wow,” Cross murmured over her shoulder. Glancing over her shoulder at him. He had his hands in his pockets, craning his neck to look at all the decorations, intricately hung and placed. “You did good, Sadie Grace.” He finally looked at her again and it was all she needed.

“Sadie!” cried Clarissa, decked out in a navy-blue dress that clung to her in all the right places and the tallest silver heels Sadie had ever seen. Her blue eyes sparkled as she wrapped her arms around Sadie. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Carter told me what was going on. I was worried!” She backed away just in time to notice Cross standing there and said, “You, too, Owen.” Then she looked back at Sadie. “The place is beautiful. The colours and the decorations.”

Clarissa slipped into mindless chatter about the party and the decorations, but Sadie had stopped listening. The table behind Clarissa was beautiful, but it didn’t look quite like the Pinterest photo had showed. It wasn’t quite as quirky, and maybe the flowers could have been set just a little more to left.

But there was no sense of accomplishment. Wasn’t she supposed to be proud of herself? Why did she still feel this empty?

Owen had vanished while Clarissa had kept Sadie locked in the mindless conversation. He moved to stand next to Carter, who looked handsome in a suit, and was laughing. She had never seen him so ecstatically happy before.

Sadie couldn’t stand here any longer. Couldn’t they see she was a fraud? Couldn’t they see she didn’t belong here amongst the fancy people with their nice dresses and beautiful smiles? Sadie wasn’t fancy. Sadie didn’t have a beautiful smile. Everything about her felt crooked or wrong in some way.

Wrong because it was her.

Cross had known she was a fraud. It was why they’d broken up. Just like he’d told her in the elevator, it was never enough, but she didn’t know how to gather up her enoughness. She couldn’t belong the way Cross knew how to – just by existing, just by showing up. Sadie had to work for her belonging. Had to work hard to be praised, to be loved.

“Excuse me,” Sadie muttered. She placed the dessert wine – which she had been clutching like it was her lifeline – onto the table and escaped to the terrace where the big skyline was. Just how she imagined it, sparkling and glittering against the night sky.

Sadie clutched the balcony. The cool air bit into her cheeks, calming her aching nerves slightly.

But not enough. Never enough.

After a few minutes of breathing in the frigid air and mentally preparing herself for the party once again, Sadie turned around, but standing there in his black boots, blazer and dress shirt, and the lightest shadow of stubble on his cheek was Owen Cross.

“You are beautiful, Sadie Grace, and this party is beautiful. I know you don’t believe me, but you are, and it is.” He took a step towards her. The wind dusted his hair just enough that a stray curl fell against his forehead.

“Cross, I-“

Cross shook his head. “You were right,” he continued. “I didn’t let you in and I’m not making that mistake again.”

He didn’t take another step towards her like she wanted him to. Instead, he dug one hand into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag full of candies. He searched the small candies until a smile tugged the corner of his lips. Then he took the step forward and plopped a small, blush pink candy heart into her open palm.

You shine.

“I love you, Sadie Grace Covington, and you are a thousand times enough.”