Page 2 of Max

To say I was ecstatic was an understatement. I babbled all the way home about it, repeating what was said and what he did to Kiki, my cousin, who, for some reason, didn’t share my happiness or giddiness.

We were dating for a year when the shitstorm I called my life struck. On one sunny afternoon, the rug was swept from under my feet for the second time in my 17 years that I was on this Earth, plunging me into the darkness. It was a freak accident. Jacob was doing something, goofing around probably, out in front of his house when he tripped, banged his head on the curb, and was no more.

It took me years to recover from the loss, but somehow, in some way, I always went back to him. It gave me comfort to text him random stuff happening in my life, and made me feel less alone. When no one demanded that I stop after the first, second, and even the third text, I figured it was safe to continue my messages as if he were still alive.

Until now.

The phone vibrated in my hand, indicating a new text, scaring me back to the moment so much I had to swallow my scream. I chanced a glance at the closed door, making sure no one was standing there. I haven’t told anybody about the texts. I didn’t want them to think I was crazy. I knew how it sounded... Texting your dead boyfriend. It wasn’t like I expected a text in return.

Also, this was just mine and no one else's. I had a piece of Jacob with me that I didn’t want to share with anybody. When the door stayed closed, I looked back at my phone.

“Oh, God,” I moaned when Jacob’s name appeared on the screen again.

How could this be happening? For years there was no answer, as there shouldn’t be, and now I got two texts in a span of a minute. With my heart in my throat, I touched the screen again, thumbed my password digits and opened the text.

BLACK RANGE ROVER AT THE CURB. Get out and get in the car.

Could I do this? Could I just get out and not think about all the people that are waiting for me in the church and leave Nico and everything that’s been going on behind? Was it that simple?

“Skylar, honey,” Melanie’s quiet voice came through the door. “Ten more minutes, and it’s showtime.”

I could hear how much it pained her to say that. How much she struggled with this wedding, and my relationship with Nico, but was doing her best to put a big smile on her face and pretend she was happy so that she could make this easier for me. Granted, she did say in a moment of weakness as we were driving here.

“Just say the word, babe, and I’ll turn around and drive us to the middle of nowhere where no

one can find us.”

When I stayed silent and watched the trees as we drove by, she took my hand in hers and squeezed.

“Just say the word, Skylar,” she implored, but again, I said nothing.

And I never did say anything. Not in the numerous times people in my life begged me to open my mouth and ask for help. I just took the hits, of all kinds, and kept on going. I had to. I was terrified that if I stopped, even for a second, all would be lost. I would be lost.

A long time ago, around when I was five years old, and life dealt me an ultimate blow, I decided to hold my head high and keep on going. The pain that ruled my tiny body when I lost them was nothing I ever wanted to feel again. It was easier just to shut down and push through all the bad. I would get to the good someday. I was paying in advance for the beauty that had to be waiting for me. It was the only explanation as to why I lost so much so early in life.

As time went by and the punches kept coming, it made even more sense. And that brought me here. I lost so much control over my life that hardly anything was what I wanted anymore. Including the wedding gown I was wearing. I wanted satin, but it had to be lace. I wanted wide straps and no train, but it had to be spaghetti straps and a train. In the end, it turned out beautiful. But that was only after I fought tooth and nail to make it as I saw fit, while still obliging the guidelines that Nico and his Mom presented me with. Mermaid silhouette with a heart neckline at the front, open back, making a V that dipped almost to the small of my back. Just below my bottom, the mush of material flared out and into the small train. The whole dress was made out of lace that had big white roses stretched across. The kickass part of the dress was finished with eyelash detailing all around the neckline, back, and hem.

I had my long, usually straight, strawberry hair curled up into the loose waves, and the front of it pulled back and secured with four big white roses, with the rest hanging loose. My phone vibrated again in my hand, but I didn’t look at the message. Instead, I took five steps that brought me to the small, circular table that only had a crystal vase in it. Without thinking, I snatched the bouquet that was in the vase. I barely looked at it. I knew how it looked. Yep, more white roses, but I paired it with lots of greenery, eucalyptus and just a touch of baby’s breath that had more green than white in them. It was extravagant. I wanted smaller, but as with everything else, I didn’t get what I wanted. It was huge, and it spilled over my arm. I turned and not looking anywhere but in front of me, not thinking about anything but my next step, I came to the doors, pulled them open and marched right through.

When she saw me, Melanie couldn’t quite hide the look of disappointment. A look that was quickly replaced by the one of awe.

“Babe, you look,” her eyes took a second and a half to wash over me before she breathed. “Exquisite.”

I didn’t say anything. I was still only thinking about my next step. I reached out with my hand, grabbed hers and quickly squeezed before I carried on. That's what I did. I carried on.

“Okay, we have a few more minutes before you have to go inside, so I want...” I didn’t hear what else she said. She stopped talking abruptly.

I knew why. I turned left instead of right and got to another door. I put my hand on the door handle and stopped. Could I actually do this? Could I for once not just carry on, but do what is right? Do what I want? What everything inside me was screaming for almost five years I should do?

“Go!”

I looked at my longtime best friend. She had tears in her eyes, and her hands were clasped in front of her mouth.

“Go!” she repeated.

I gave her a small smile, the only thing I was capable of at the moment, turned and walked through the door right into the sunshine. The moment the door closed behind me, I bent, took hold of the short train, and started power walking. If I could, I would run. But I had high heels, and it wouldn’t look classy if someone saw a bride running from the church.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I heard just as I was rounding a corner.