The Present

Prologue

I sat on the hotel bed and looked into the Victorian-styled mirror. The ten pounds that had recently evaporated from my body reflected as a skeletal figure. What used to be referred to as luscious lemons lay limp and lifeless in my push-up bra. The wide elastic band on my white pantyhose pressed into my belly, exposing the protruding bones that hid beneath my skin. I blew air into my jaws, stuck my breast out, trying to create the illusion of a fuller me.

I combed my hair down; then I pinned it up, desperately attempting to expose my golden highlights. After I applied my makeup, I paced around the hotel room, from the bathroom to the window, rubbing my sweaty palms. Finally, I sat on my hands, trying to soak up the anxiety flowing from them. I rehearsed what I’d written over and over in my head. “Devin, I have loved you my entire adult life.”

My mind would then freeze. What was I supposed to say next? My dress lay on the adjacent bed, waiting to be draped upon my body. My eyes watered as I visualized the episode about to begin. I dried my tears with the tips of my fingers. Without further delay, I grabbed my dress and began to step into it. My body trembled like an alcoholic in need of a shot. Wisdom began invading my thoughts, telling me to stay in my room and forget about the whole thing.

With my equilibrium disrupted, I dropped the dress and lay back on the bed. I looked at the alarm clock. Five-fifty. Ten minutes until the verdict. With each flickering nerve in my body, I rummaged up the strength to slide into my dress. I took one final glance in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door.

With enough confidence to feed a fish, I opened the door. I slammed it. I began pacing around the room again, pounding my fist, praying aloud. Three minutes before the procession and still, I contemplated. Afraid to move. Afraid to stay.

I rushed to the door and down the hall. With each step, I found the courage to continue. Baby steps converted into brave strides. Reluctance disguised as determination.

To avoid being seen by the incoming guests, I slipped into the stairwell. My three-inch heals clicked loudly as I galloped down four flights. When I reached the ballroom floor, my heart thumped anxiously. I stood there. Anticipation boiled inside of me in the form of indigestion. I climbed onto my tiptoes and peeped through the tiny windowpane. The bridesmaids, dressed in beautiful cranberry velvet gowns, hustled past. I quickly ducked.

I prayed desperately that my insanity was in vain. I hoped he would be the one to call it off.

Then, as if summoned, I heard his voice approaching. I began to nibble on my lips. I walked in five-step circles and mumbled, “Oh, my God. He’s really here. Oh, my God.”

He and his best man stopped directly in front of the door which I stood behind. Oblivious to my surveillance, they continued to talk.

Jason, his best man, kidded, “Yo, I ’on believe you crazy enough to go through with this.”

Devin smiled. “Man, I’ain afraid of commitment. You know that.”

“You right. You been on lockdown forever.”

Devin laughed. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. When you find something good, you hold on to it.”

Jason seemed to meditate on Devin’s philosophic words. “True. True.”

Then another groomsman walked up. “You ready, dawg?”

“Man, as ready as I’m ’gon be.”

Expressions of gratitude lurked in his eyes. There was confidence in his words, joy surrounding his presence. Doubt began plaguing me. My eyes shifted from mouth to mouth. Hoping. Praying. Maybe just maybe someone would give me one reason to run back to my room.

His parents walked up, and his mom kissed his cheek. Thin red lips printed meticulously on his flawless caramel skin. She held his face between her slim, pale hands. Pride written vividly on her leathery face, she simply shook her head at her baby boy. He blinked rapidly, attempting to restrain the emotions, the unspoken words. His father shook his hand and patted him on the back.

Trapped in a virtual insane asylum, my hands pressed flat against the door. Inwardly, I screamed loudly, but no one heard my cry. I banged frantically, but no one acknowledged the commotion. How could I stop it? How could I lose the only man I’ve ever loved?

He and Jason stood in silence for a moment. Jason asked, “Do you ever ...?”

Devin’s eyes stretched, as if he awaited the question. He anxiously asked, “Do I ever, what?”

Jason waved his hand. “Never mind, man. It’s your wedding day.”

Devin paused for a moment and said, “You think I’m making a mistake. Don’t you?”

The expression on Jason’s face obviously confirmed Devin’s question. Then the minister called for them. Jason shook Devin’s hand. “Man, I wish you the best. It’s too late to question it now. It’s that time.”

They embraced. Jason walked rapidly in front of him. Devin took two slow, concentrated steps. With the future of our relationship lying solely in my hands, I yanked the door open and loudly whispered, “Devin...Devin.”