His & Mine Series 1: His to Honor, Mine to Hold
Author
Nailynn
Reads
15.1K
Chapters
71
One Breath from Forever
SOFIE
Today was my wedding day, the one I used to rehearse in bedroom mirrors with plastic tiaras slipping over my eyes.
For the first time since Andrew proposed, the thought that something was wrong wouldn’t leave, no matter how many times I told myself to stop.
The sun rose over New York City, partially obscured by dark clouds, as the metropolis started to buzz. Tucked between glass towers, the church waited. Its stone steps had been worn smooth by years of use.
Inside, colored light spilled through stained glass and across the pews, and there I was, standing right in the middle of it, one breath away from forever.
Claire stood close as she swept the brush over my cheek. Neither of us spoke. The only sound was the steady glide of the brush against my skin.
I reached for my mother’s pearl necklace. My fingers found the clasp, and a smile tugged at my mouth before a tear slipped free.
I remembered spinning in her gown, pearls clinking with each turn. Her arms wrapped around me, holding the whole world together in that hug.
I wished my mom were here.
The dress hugged my skin; the ivory lace and satin clung to my frame. It fit as if it had been waiting for me.
Claire adjusted my veil. “You look beautiful.”
I met her eyes in the mirror. They shimmered, holding back tears.
“I always imagined having a marriage like theirs,” I said, watching my fingers twist the pearls at my throat. My voice wavered, but I didn’t stop. “They were everything I want to be, and now I’m starting my own journey on the same date.”
I hesitated. “I want to build a family with someone who sees me, loves all the way, no matter what. I want something real,” I said, my voice catching. “Something that holds when life gets hard.”
Claire gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “They would be so proud of you.”
I nodded, my throat tight.
Claire had been my person for as long as I could remember. She was the one who showed up at midnight with takeout and bad movies, the one who sat on bathroom floors with me and never asked me to stop crying. She was my constant.
A nervous flutter stirred low in my stomach. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
Claire tilted her head slightly, studying me in the mirror the way she always had.
“You okay?” she asked gently. “I mean, really okay?”
I smiled reflexively. “Of course. Just wedding nerves.”
She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push. My eyes cast down to my hands, where I twirled the engagement ring around my finger.
“Andrew didn’t call last night.”
Claire’s hands paused.
“He said he would,” I added. “I ended up calling him, but he said that he had a lot going on: dissertation edits and last-minute stress.”
Her eyes met mine in the mirror.
“It’s fine,” I said, the words tumbling out faster now. “I’m sure he was just tired. You know how he gets when he’s overwhelmed.”
I laughed softly. “Honestly, I probably would’ve been the same way in his position.”
Claire’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Did it bother you?”
The honest answer rose, tightening my chest. Yes, it had. The silence had lingered long enough to make me stare at my phone and wonder why I felt so small for wanting more.
I learned early that love stayed longer when you didn’t ask too much of it. Wanting quietly was safer, so I made my wants smaller and told myself that needing less was the same as being strong.
Andrew showed up, not in the ways I always imagined, but he showed up. That’s what mattered.
“No,” I said. “It’s nothing. Today is what matters.”
I held her gaze in the mirror.
After a moment, she nodded. “Okay.”
My shoulders loosened, and the tight pull in my chest eased a notch. If Claire wasn’t worried, then I didn’t need to be either.
I turned my attention back to my reflection, smoothing my expression into something certain and bright.
I let out a breathy laugh. “Will you check if Andrew’s ready? I’m nervous all of a sudden.”
She nodded, her smile small. “Of course.”
The door closed quietly behind her. When the room was mine again, I relied on the order I’d built. Today was mapped down to the minute, and still, unease crept in anyway as the silence wrapped around me.
My heartbeat was loud in the stillness. My hands were damp. I rubbed them against my gown, the layers of lace closing in.
“Calm down. It’s just nerves. This is normal,” I told myself.
The silence didn’t ease, it pressed closer. A faint tremor rippled low in my stomach, a warning I’d learned never to ignore.
I glanced at the clock. Claire should’ve been back by now.
I stood, my dress rustling sharply in the heavy quiet, and I crossed to the door. I opened it just enough to look out.
The hallway was empty. It stretched long and dim, stained-glass windows casting muted colors across polished floors. There were no footsteps near me, just the low murmur beyond the doors as music drifted in and out.
Beyond the glass, dark clouds pressed low against the city, and rain began to tap steadily.
I waited, still nothing.
A chill crept up my spine. I closed the door and leaned my forehead against it for a second, forcing myself to breathe.
Get it together.
I turned back into the room and started pacing. One step, then another. The skirt of my dress swayed with each turn, brushing my legs.
Why was everything taking so long?
I rubbed my palms together, then smoothed them down the front of my gown again. My thoughts tripped over each other, circling the same questions without answers.
Maybe she’d gotten caught up with something, or maybe Andrew was running late.
The silence said otherwise.
My heart beat harder. The room felt smaller than it had a few minutes ago. I crossed to the mirror, then turned away, unable to look at myself again.
The doorknob turned and I froze.
The door opened, and Claire stepped in. One look at her face stopped everything.
Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. Her lips parted, then pressed together again, as if she couldn’t find the words.
My stomach dropped.
“Claire,” I said softly. “What is it? Is Andrew okay?”
She closed the door behind her, the click echoed. She didn’t answer right away. Her gaze locked onto mine, glassy and brimming with tears, and before she spoke, something inside me already knew.
My blood ran cold.
“Claire,” I said again. My voice sounded wrong, as if it belonged to someone else.
“I talked to Mark,” she said quietly. “Andrew called him.”
“Sofie,” she swallowed. “He’s not coming.”
My legs gave out, and I hit the ground hard, the breath knocked clean out of me. I clutched my dress, gasping, a broken sound tearing out of my chest as everything finally gave way.
She dropped onto the floor next to me, wrapping her arms around me and holding on while my body convulsed in her grip. The sobs came hard. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t catch a breath.
The scent of roses from my bouquet, once comforting, now turned my stomach. The delicate lace scratched against my skin, each thread a reminder of the day’s unraveling.
Everything I had pictured—the day, the ceremony, the vows, the life after—had all shattered into pieces. Some part of me had always expected this—not the cruelty of it or the public humiliation, just the confirmation that I wasn’t enough.
Heat crawled up my neck as I pictured their faces, the way they would look at me now. Everyone would know that the man who was supposed to love me took one look at forever and walked away.
Somewhere beyond these walls, music was still playing. Guests were still seated, waiting.
I don’t know how long I cried. The minutes stretched and blurred. At some point, my body stopped shaking. The tears didn’t stop, but they slowed.
I lay there, curled up, my dress twisted and wrinkled beneath me. My body ached with grief.
Claire reached up and pushed a curl behind my ear.
“I’m going to help Mark with the guests,” she whispered. Her voice wavered, but she stayed upright.
“I’ll be right back.”
She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze, then she stood, paused for a beat, and slipped out of the room.
I couldn’t move. The weight of the day settled over me. This day wasn’t just mine, it was my parents’ anniversary.
They had built something real, the kind of love I wasn’t sure existed outside of them anymore. This wasn’t just supposed to be my beginning; it was meant to be a continuation of theirs.
If I walked into my own vows on their anniversary, I’d thought some of that goodness would find me too, that their love would bless mine. I had clung to the date as proof that something good would happen to me too.
Now it felt like that had been taken as well.
The thought of the guests whispering, knowing Andrew didn’t want a future with me, made my stomach twist. I couldn’t let them see me like this. They’d all know I wasn’t enough.
I pushed myself off the floor, my legs shaking, hands trembling as I ripped the veil from my head. Pins bit into my scalp as my hair fell loose.
I opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
To the left, the double doors to the sanctuary waited, warm with music and expectation, a life that was supposed to begin. To the right, the exit waited, leading nowhere and everywhere.
I stood between them, my breath shallow, heart racing.
The sanctuary offered only the echo of a promise already broken. The exit promised nothing, but it was mine.
I turned. There was nothing here for me anymore.
I pulled the doors open and stepped into the rain.
