White Dresses and Forbidden Kisses

The white dress you chose is tight against your body, showing off your curves and a lot of your legs. You put on another layer of the red lipstick and run a hand through your curls. 

  Perfect. 

 You put on your high, red heels and head out the door. Parker, your driver is waiting outside the door, and he gets up to open the car door for you.

  “Good day, Miss,” he says. He holds out a hand to help you into the car. “We’re still going to the church?”

  “Yes, thank you Parker,” you answer. The car starts moving, “Parker, could you take the long way please?!

  “Of course, Miss,” your driver answers. You can hear the indicator blinking and you close your eyes. You do your best to calm your fast breathing, but it’s almost impossible. 

  The church isn’t that far away from your house, but you don’t want to arrive early. You don’t want to arrive on time, either. The questions would just be too much. 

  You look at your phone to check the time. The invite said that the ceremony would start now, but you know Emma. Emma would never start anything on time. 

  “Can you drive past the church before we stop?” you ask your driver. 

  “Of course, Miss,” he answers and turns the car. You roll down one of your tinted windows. The church doors are still open. Emma isn’t there yet. 

 “Another round, please.” 

  Five minutes later, the car stops in front of the church doors. They are closed this time, which you take as a good sign. 

  “Do you need me to wait here, Miss?” Parker asks. He always knows exactly what you think. But then, that is what you pay him for. To anticipate your steps before you even think of them. 

  “Yes, please, Parker. Thank you.”

 He gives you a small nod, before he closes your door and gets back into the driver’s seat. 

  You check the time again. Perfect. As intended you’ve arrived fashionably late. You pretend not to notice your hands shaking. Another glance into your mirror. Your makeup looks good, and you cannot tell how nervous you are by looking at your face. A bright smile into the mirror before you shut it and put it into the small silver back. 

 The church doors are big, intimidating, and standing in front of them makes you feel small, even with the heels. Should you knock? you ask yourself but decide against it. That would be ridiculous. 

 But then, all of what you are about to do will be ridiculous. 

 A deep breath. 

  You give yourself another heartbeat to collect yourself before you open the doors. They’re heavy, much heaver than you expected. And they squeak, a sound so loud, so blood chilling, that the whole church turns to look at you. 

  There aren’t many people sitting on the benches, but you had known that. Emma has a lot of friends, but she invited just her closest ones. She invited you, too, asked you to be one of her bridesmaids even, but you declined. 

  You told her that you had to visit family. A lie. A ridiculous, stupid lie. You never intended to come. You knew you wouldn’t attend the moment she got engaged to that idiot. Gerard. 

  When in reality, you couldn’t go because seeing her marry someone else would break your heart. You thought you could never tell her that. But yesterday evening, when you sent Emma that last message good luck tmw, ily, you knew you couldn’t just let her marry Gerard without saying something. 

 It takes you a moment to return back to reality. To actually see and take in what is happening in front of you. You notice Emma first, because how could you not. She looks beautiful, in a soft rosé dress that makes her look like a fairytale princess. She looks at you, confusion written all over her face. You can see her lips moving, but she is too far away for you to understand what she is saying. 

  Gerard is standing next to her, dressed in a dark grey suit. You have to admit, he looks handsome, with his hair hanging around his face. The bridesmaids behind Emma are looking at you with soft smiles on their faces. You know them, all of them. You know everyone in this church. 

  The priest is standing between the couple, a big bible in his hands. 

 “Emma,” it’s the only thing you can say. Your voice is quiet, but everyone can hear you. Everyone is hanging onto your lips like you are about to tell them a fascinating story. 

  “I thought you wouldn’t be able to come today,” Emma says. The confusion on her face turns into a smile. Barely there, but you know her face better than your own. 

  You walk towards her, slow and steady steps. You stumbling would make all of this even worse than it already is. 

 You’re right in front of her now. Even with your heels, she’s taller than you and you have to look up to look her in the eyes. 

 “I’m here,” you start, “I’m here because I need to tell you something.” Emma raises her eyebrows at you while Gerard is shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Maybe he knows what you’re about to say. The church is quiet and all you can hear is your heartbeat booming in your ears. “We have been friends for as long as I can think.” A smile. “And I never told you this because I thought it could ruin our friendship but when you got engaged to Gerard I was jealous. So jealous.” She hear someone gasp in the audience. “I love you. I have loved you since Kindergarten and seeing you throw your heart at people only for it to be broken again made me love you even more. And I couldn’t let you marry him without telling you this.”

 You take a deep breath. Really, this was all you had wanted to say. You look at Emma, one last time, before turning around. She might forgive you for this. Years down the road she might be ready to be your friend again. Even though you ruined her wedding. You’re okay with that. It’s that hope that you cling onto when you walk away. As much as it pains you, you know you did the right thing. Not saying it would have killed you.

 People are still staring at you, surprise, confusion and pity on their faces. You wonder if anyone here has ever been in your situation. 

 The hand on your arm startles you so much that you almost lose your balance. You don’t need to turn around to know who it belongs to. Still, you do, a bright smile on your face when you see Emma. 

 She pulls you closer, pressing a long, soft kiss on your lips. You barely even hear the people gasping behind you. The bridesmaids are clapping when you pull apart. They had known, they had seen the way you always looked at Emma. 

Gerard, poor Gerard, had vanished. His groomsmen are still standing next to the priest, looking at each other, trying to figure out what to do. 

 You don’t care.

  You don’t care about any of this. 

 Because Emma is pulling you close again.

 “I love you, too,” she whispers against your lips. Her hands are cupping your face and all you can think of is this moment. And how foolish you had been to not tell her sooner. 

 “Let’s leave,” she says to you and you nod. 

  You would do anything she told you to do.