Renee rose to her feet, smoothing the silk of her skirt down her legs. “He’s pushing you away on purpose. And if you really love him, Sam, you won’t let him do it.”
It was just a half hour later when Samantha pulled herself together enough to rejoin the reception. She had cried for a long while. Trying to process all that Renee had told her. It was heartbreaking and awful, but still, she had no idea how to get through to someone who wouldn’t even look at her. Everyone was seated at their tables, being served their chosen meal of prime rib or lobster, and she took a seat next to Mark. He immediately poured her a glass of Chardonnay and pushed it across the table. “I was about to send out a search party. Where’d you disappear to?”
She took a large gulp of the offered drink. “The restroom,” she answered with a tight voice.
He glanced over to Tristan on the other side of the room. “Trouble in paradise?”
She nodded and pulled in a deep breath, but only glanced up for a moment, because she was afraid if she looked longer than that the tears would come again. “Can we talk about something else? I’m not feeling up to this right now.”
His brow furrowed, but he nodded and began cutting his steak. They continued eating their meals in silence, time passing as though she was in a fog, and before she knew it, her sculpture was being rolled out into the middle of the dance floor.
She knew it was coming, but at the same time she wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready to stand in front of all Renee’s friends and family. Wasn’t ready for a thousand eyes to be watching her. But the DJ called her out on the dance floor, and she turned to Mark. “I don’t want to do this.” She whispered, but she rose from her seat anyway and collected the microphone from the podium.
She looked into the faces of all the guests. People she barely knew, but were about to see her at her most vulnerable. She turned around to face all of them, then glanced over to Renee, deciding she didn’t care what any of the guests thought. She was doing it for her best friend, her salt of the earth friend whose heart was bigger than anyone else’s.
Renee watched her, eyes and body at attention, waiting for her to speak. Samantha’s chest tightened, and all the tears she’d been holding rushed up to clog in her throat. She ran her hand along the length of the microphone cord, hoping energy or strength would miraculously enter her body. She owed Renee this. If nothing else, Renee deserved a speech from her maid of honor.
Samantha closed her eyes, letting out a deep breath before pulling the drape from the sculpture. The fabric fell to the ground, revealing a plethora of green, blue, and earth toned colors.
She turned back to Renee, meeting her best friend’s eyes as she took in the sculpture for the first time. It was of a ballerina, tall and beautiful, though it’s legs were twisted, fabricated into roots stuck deep into a ball of soil. Her arms were long, held over her head and growing up to the sky like limbs, covered in tiny, intricate leaves in a myriad of colors.
Samantha turned toward the audience and pulled in a breath. “I still remember the day I met Renee,” she began, staring through tear brimmed eyes to look at all the faces. “Her hair was up in one of those tight ballerina buns she wore all throughout grade school, and Ricky Jones had just stepped on her fingers. I instantly felt a connection.” She smiled softly, stretching out her hand to examine her knuckles. “I’m pretty sure I still have the scars from when he stepped on my hand only the day before.”
The crowd chuckled, and Renee’s lips curved in a soft smile. “But Renee was always different than me. Because, instead of worrying about herself, she helped Ricky up to his feet when he fell.” Her voice grew husky with emotion. “She’s always been like that. A harbor of strength. A sheltering tree to all those lucky enough to be loved by her. But she’s kind of crazy, too.” She nodded, causing the whole crowd to mumble with shock.
She glanced over to the seat she’d seen Tristan sitting in not five minutes earlier and found it empty, which caused her stomach to drop a few inches. She took a calming breath, turning to Renee again and straightening her shoulders.
“A few months ago, Renee called at midnight to tell me about a guy.” She raised her brows, indicating she wasn’t happy about being woken up so late. “He was wonderful, and perfect, and she was going out on a date with him. But four weeks later, after many phone calls in between, she told me she loved him.” The crowd began to chuckle, and Samantha cracked a tiny grin. “Quite frankly I was shocked, but who was I to judge?” She paused for a moment, shaking her head. “Then she told me she was going to marry him.” Samantha looked down, her heart so raw and open she may as well have been lying on an operating table. “I thought she was having one of her crazy moments—like literally had lost her mind. Because I’d spent six years with a man, and my heart still wasn’t open to the idea of forever.”
She looked up then, glancing around the crowd who had suddenly gone completely quiet. “How, in such a short time, did she know that she loved him?”
Everyone around her began adjusting in their seats, whispering, but she didn’t stop.
“You see, Renee and I are the same age. Born only two weeks apart. We’ve done everything together. Shared the same birthday parties, the same friends, same graduation. How could she be so frivolous with her heart to marry a man after such a short time?”
Gasps could be heard throughout the hall, and she looked into Renee’s eyes, her lips quivering with the tears she held onto so desperately. “But six days ago, I realized that Renee had it right the whole time. Because time isn’t a factor in matters of the heart. I can see now she’s given her whole heart to Phin. That she’s shown him her flaws, and let him really see her.” She looked toward the ground. “Because that’s how love works. That’s what I want. I don’t want perfect. I want flaws, and I want passion. I want someone to give me everything without holding back. Even the ugly pieces. Even the pieces hidden from everyone else.”
The audience hushed, and Samantha turned back to face them again, knowing Tristan was out there amongst them. Somewhere. “Love is about being vulnerable. It’s about doing things that scare you. Like giving your heart to someone after a few weeks, or a few days. When you find the right person, time stops.” She nodded and smiled at her best friend. “That’s what happened to Renee and Phin.” She placed the microphone back on the podium and whispered, “And that’s what happened to me.”
The crowd went silent, and she lifted her glass above her head. “To the bride and groom, and to love that is timeless.”
Everyone cheered and clinked their glasses. Mark stood up, then lowered his head in a nod of respect. She could see he was proud of her, and frankly, she was proud of herself, too. Because she would have never done this a week ago. She wasn’t strong enough then.
Mark came toward the podium, placing his hand on her shoulder before whispering in her ear. “Good job, kid. The ball’s in his court.” He then relieved her from the spotlight, and had the whole room laughing before she made it to the bottom step.
She weaved between the tables, not intending to stick around. Because every last drop of her strength had been used up on that stage, and she needed to get out of there. First, she focused on getting to her table, then, gathering her things, putting one foot in front of the other, breathing in and out. Because if she tried to focus on more than that, it was too overwhelming. She made it to her table without anyone noticing her, took a couple sips of wine as she gathered her things, but before she could turn away, an elderly man came forward to block her path.
“Is that piece yours?” he asked. His voice low and eloquent. He looked to be in his sixties, elegantly dressed, with a kind face.
Samantha glanced back to the sculpture near the dance floor and nodded her head. Light was bouncing off the tiny leaves and a few people had gathered around to examine it. “Yes,” she answered, trying to move around him again.
He stepped in front of her, eyeing her up and down curiously. He held out his hand in introduction. “My name is Henry Covington. I own a gallery downtown.”
She swallowed quickly, glancing up into his face in a daze.