to take all of her in, every inch of her glowing beauty wrapped in that silky, cream wedding dress. Her cheeks were high and rosy, her lips painted a dusty rose, the freckles from our days in the sun breaking through the foundation that powdered her face. Her long, copper hair was braided on each side, the length of it twisted and tied in a knot at the back just below where her veil sat like a halo. Those hazel eyes I’d loved to stare into all summer were as bright and golden as the sun that peaked in behind her before the church doors shut again, and it was as if that sound slammed me back to reality, slammed time back into motion, slammed my heart back into its race within my rib cage.
I didn’t even notice her dress.
I didn’t care.
Because it was that woman I was here for, not the dress she wore — and if I had it my way, if everything worked the way I hoped, that dress wouldn’t mean anything after today, anyway.
Ruby Grace wore the same solemn smile as Annie had as she walked down the aisle, slowly, her father rubbing his hand over where she held his arm in assurance. With his face ashen and long, I wasn’t sure if was assuring her or himself.
Ruby Grace didn’t notice me as she walked by. In fact, she seemed to be in some sort of daze, some sort of dream.
Or nightmare.
The crowd ooooh’d and awww’d as she passed them, women dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs as the men smiled in wonder and awe.
I had no doubt she was the most beautiful bride to ever walk down that church aisle.
When she reached the end, Pastor Morris asked who gave her hand in marriage, to which her father responded that he did. He kissed her cheek, made an attempt at a smile that fell flat, and then, carefully, he passed her hand to Anthony.
Ruby Grace handed her bouquet to Annie, and Annie whispered something, nodding back toward me. My heart fell to my stomach as Ruby Grace turned, and just as Pastor Morris told the congregation they may be seated, she found me.
She blinked.
I blinked.
Her lips parted.
I smiled.
And then, I sat along with the rest of the crowd, and her eyes stayed glued on me.
Pastor Morris was already speaking, launching into what a beautiful day it was for such an occasion, but Ruby Grace couldn’t take her eyes off the back pew. She blinked, over and over and over, her bottom lip trembling, and it wasn’t until Pastor Morris said her name that she tore her eyes away, swallowing as she turned her focus to Anthony.
“Anthony,” Pastor Morris said, smiling at the groom before he turned his eyes to the bride. “Ruby Grace. It is with great joy that I stand here with you today, surrounded by your loved ones as we celebrate the unity of two hearts becoming one.”
Anthony smiled at Ruby Grace, but she couldn’t muster so much as a grin. Her eyes floated back to me once more. She blinked. Then, she faced Anthony again.
“Marriage is an honorable sanction, instituted by God,” Pastor Morris continued, but his words faded out when Ruby Grace looked at me.
Again.
Annie nudged her from the back, but she kept her eyes on mine, her brows folding together, lips parting.
Anthony frowned when she took too long to look back at him, and he followed her gaze. When he saw me in the back pew, he scowled, lips flattening into a tight line. He cleared his throat, squeezing Ruby Grace’s hand in his own to pull her attention back to him.
She seemed to do so reluctantly, and even when she was facing him again, she wore the same worried look.
Come on, Noah, I silently pleaded with myself. Stand up. Say what you came to say.
I didn’t know what I was waiting for — a sign, perhaps. Or maybe the classic line from Pastor Morris — Should anyone have just cause why these two should not be wed, let them speak now, or forever hold their peace.
But those words never came.
Because in the next breath, Ruby Grace shook her head, pulled her hands from Anthony’s, and whispered something that looked a lot like “I can’t do this” from where I was sitting at the back of the church. She looked at her father in the front pew, words no one could hear exchanged between them in that weighted gaze.