Hesitating and Suffocating

Cally grabbed Garrett’s acoustic guitar from its case as she sat on the bed she’d be sharing with the same man, strumming over the strings like it was nothing. Pat, from across the room, raised his brows. “I didn’t know you played guitar,” He said slowly, untying his shoes but refused to break eye contact with Cally as her fingers began to bleed from the sharp strings. She furrowed her brow.

“I didn’t either,” She murmured. She put it back where it belonged and murmured under her breath for a moment as she crawled under the covers, her eyes sore and in pain from all the staring she had been doing into Kennedy’s eyes, and her head was pounding from the alcohol. And she was tired. So very tired.

And as she laid on her back and closed her eyes, she smelt a scent of cologne that trigged something in her brain. She was engulfed in a memory, one that seemed fuzzy, but much clearer than anything else.

“John,” Cally murmured, her face buried in a crisp tux and the smell of that cologne present wherever she turned her nose. She loved that smell. She gave a small smile, looking up at the handsome John, whose face was free from bags and still had white teeth. One hand was clasped in his, and the other was on his shoulder. “Isn’t it all so magical? Weddings?” She asked, a smile growing on her lips as she looked around the tent where Gemma’s wedding was.

The lights were flashing around them and the band was playing sad music that Cally simply adored. Gemma was a few feet away, and Gemma looked beautiful.

“I want to get married one day, in a grand wedding like this one, but to-” Cally rolled her eyes and cut him off.

“Sumner?” She shook her head. “I think she’d be more for a beach wedding. She seems like the type.” She broke away from John for a moment, her hands on her hips. “I have to go help serve dinner.”

“You’re lying,” He said, calling her out. They had danced once before, and she had to leave for the maid of honor speech. But he wasn’t letting her leave this time, yet she broke away from his grip, walking towards the table where the lonely Max Helyer sat, and John stood there alone, deflated.

As Cally had walked away, she thought she heard John say the words she had always wanted to hear. “I was going to say I wanted a wedding like this for you and I.” But instead, she steeled herself and went back to talk to Max.

Cally’s eyes fluttered open and she began to cry like a baby, tucking her knees to her chest as everyone crowded around her, words trying to form in her puffy lips and in her puffy eyes. “I remembered something,” She murmured, savoring the taste of those words.