Work Text:
Belly
It’s time.
My dad smiles down at me, even as a tear escapes his eye and runs down into his beard. “Are you ready?”
My mouth feels like it’s packed full of cotton balls. I have to work to swallow the lump in my throat. “No,” I say, my voice shaky, my own tears making puddles out of my eyelids.
I won’t be ready until I see Jeremiah, until I know that he’s ok. If he’s ok, I’ll be ok too.
The string quartet we hired plays the beginning notes to ‘That’s The Way I Loved You’, and a wave of nausea rolls up from my stomach and into my throat. I think I’m going to be sick. I pick at an orchid in the bouquet I’m holding and step under the archway.
All eyes are on me.
The camera flashes.
“ You’re a goddess.”
“If you ever say that to me again I’ll throw up all over you.”
Warmth starts at my middle and spreads through my entire body. What I wouldn’t give to go back to the innocence of that moment. Before our whole world fell apart.
I blink the memory away.
Will it always feel like this? Like I’m living out someone else’s fantasy? Someone who isn’t even here? Like I’m handcuffed to a spell I was under? Like I’m disappearing?
Conrad stands at the end of the aisle in a blue suit with a gray undershirt and a single orchid pinned to his lapel looking at me expectantly, but I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Dad whispers.
I look up hoping my smile is enough to convince him that I’m okay, even if I’m not okay at all. “Nothing.”
It’s one step in front of the other until we reach the altar.
“Who gives this woman to be married to this man?” The officiant asks.
“Her mother and I do.” My dad’s voice cracks as he answers and I reach up onto my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. He brings my hand forward to lay in Conrad’s while I scan the first two rows.
“Belly, what’s wrong?” Conrad asks.
I finally have the courage to look at him for the first time. “Where’s Jeremiah? Have you seen your brother?”
“He was just here a few seconds ago.”
I search the crowd.
“Isabel?” My mom loudly whispers from the front row with a look and tone that says, ‘please don’t embarrass yourself, or me’. We’ve spent enough time together the past few months planning every detail of this thing for me to know she’s more excited about this wedding than I am.
I have to turn myself all of the way around to see Taylor, and when I do her expression tells me everything I need to know.
“I can’t do this.” The words are out before I even have a chance to think about what I’m saying.
“What—“ the sound of his voice draws my attention back to him.
“I’m so sorry Conrad. I have to go.”
Handing him my bouquet, I kick off my heels, pull up the ends of my floor length gown, and run back down the aisle. The sound of my bare feet pounding on the hardwood floor echoes off the walls of the club.
I burst out the doors and stop.
Jeremiah’s jeep is gone. My car is at the beach house. My phone and little white clutch holding my drivers license, debit card, and a few dollars in case of emergency are still in the room we used to get ready.
Fuck.
I’m left with only one option. It's not a good one, but it’s the only one I’ve got. I know how ridiculous I’ll look running block after block through Cousins in my wedding dress, but nothing matters except finding Jeremiah, and I have a feeling I know where he is.
I hike up my dress and run down the front steps of the club. The door behind me flies open with Taylor in its wake. She’s carrying the clutch, my phone, and her keys. “Take my car.”
I run back up the steps, throw my arms around her, and squeeze tight. Tears sting my eyes. “Thank you Taylor. What would I do without you?”
“Be safe, Cinderbelly.”
I press the numbers for the passcode into my phone and call Jeremiah while running to Taylor’s car. It goes straight to voicemail.
Finding my feet and getting myself out of a tiny little car in a big poofy white dress when I’m in a hurry is a lot to ask. When I finally break free from my entanglement I lift my dress up and sprint past the red jeep and down the path to the beach. It’s hard enough running barefoot in the sand in a bathing suit, much less in a dress that weighs at least twenty pounds. I almost fall about a dozen times before I finally reach the end of the tunnel of sea grass and see him.
He’s standing with his hands in the pockets of his suit pants looking out at the ocean.
“Jeremiah!” I call above the waves, crashing against the shore.
He turns to the sound of my voice. His face is twisted in grief, his eyes bloodshot, his cheeks wet. The sorrow of seeing him like this puts my lungs in a vice. Tears run like streams down my face. I’ve never been able to see Jeremiah cry and not instantly be in tears myself. We’re mirror images of each other. Always have been. Always will be.
He runs a hand down his face. “Bells, what are you doing here?”
“I didn’t know where else to go. I had to find you.” I give up on holding my dress and let it drag along in the sand behind me as I walk to him.
“I’m sorry, Belly. I’m sorry I couldn’t—“ he gasps between ragged breaths.
I shake my head. “I couldn’t either.”
His brows knit in confusion. “You couldn’t?”
“No.” It comes out as a whisper.
I step into his space.
Silence descends over us as I’m swept up in the current of his gaze, his ocean eyes drawing me in and not letting go.
Our hands come together like magnets, our fingers instantly intertwined in a death grip, a lifeline. His long thumbs stroke the sensitive skin between my thumb and forefinger and I wonder how such a simple, mindless act can feel so intimate.
My heart is pounding so hard I hear it drumming in my ears. I bring one of his hands up and lay it flat on my chest, sliding his fingers under the lace of my bodice so he can feel my heart beating just for him.
“You broke my heart four years ago.” My voice breaks. “I can’t even think about it without—“ I choke on a sob, take a deep breath.
“I know,” he breathes, resting his forehead on mine. “Me either.”
“I know why you did it, though. Love has always been the motivation for every single thing you do.” I release the hand I’m holding and reach up, stroking his cheek. “But if you’re not going to fight for me, then I’m going to fight for you. Because I love you, Jere. I never stopped loving you. And I could live without you. I mean, I could. But I’d be miserable.” I wipe a tear away from his eye. “And I tried ok? I tried to be happy with him, for you. Because I thought it was what you wanted, what everyone else wanted. But I failed. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t marry him.”
“Bells-“ he reaches up and lays his palm on the back of my hand, cupping his face.
“‘I’m yours’ and ‘you’re mine’, remember?” I smile. “You’re my best friend. My other half. And this thing between you and me? It’s just for us, nobody else. It’s been our story all along. Yours and mine. No one else’s. It’s always been us.” I press my lips to his cheek, pull back. “Even when I was planning a wedding to your brother you were taking me dress shopping, and helping me pick out the flowers. And I saw the pain behind the mask that you showed everyone else. It’s the same pain I’ve been feeling inside. It’s been killing me for months.”
“It’s been killing me too.” He lifts his head and looks toward the ocean, then back at me, finds my eyes. “C’mere.”
My skin aches at the loss of contact when he moves his hand from my chest but instantly warms again when he pulls me into him, pressing until we’re one from head to toe. He rests his cheek on the top of my head and it feels like home .
We stay like that, swaying. Listening to the music of the waves and the seagulls mixed with our breathing. It’s calming, the sweetest relief.
He lifts his head and I look up at him. “Wanna go for a drive?”
I don’t even ask where. It doesn’t matter. “Yeah. I do.”
He slides his fingers in between mine, walking back up to the house. We only make it a few steps when he bends down and scoops me up under my legs in a bridal carry. “Jere!” I shriek.
A soft chuckle bubbles up out of him. “If we want to make it back up to the house before sunset you’re going to need some help.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, press my face there, and breathe him in.
He drops me off in the passenger seat of his jeep. “Where’s your bag?”
“In my room.”
“I’ll be right back.” He leans in and plants a soft kiss on my lips, closes the door, and darts inside.
Left alone, the magnitude of the mess I find myself in hits me like a ton of bricks. Yes, I just freed myself from a lifetime of boredom, pain, and regret. I’m finally putting my happiness first. But at what cost? Will Conrad ever speak to us again? He had no problem being the reason why Jeremiah and I broke up, but something tells me he won’t be as forgiving as Jeremiah was now that the shoe is on the other foot. The difference is, this is my choice . And on that note, what will my parents think? Not that it would change my decision, but I don’t want them to hate me forever. Maybe they will come to understand eventually?
Jeremiah opens and closes the driver’s door, slinging my bag into the back seat. He puts a pair of waters in the cup holders and hands me a bag full of snacks. “I figured you might be hungry. You ready?”
I nod. “Yeah.
He turns around in the driveway and I remember. “Jere, stop.”
“What’s the matter?”
“My wallet and phone are in Taylor’s car.”
He hops out, grabs my stuff, and hops back in, handing it to me. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem.”
I breathe a sigh of relief when we leave the driveway without being discovered. I’m in no way ready to face everyone with everything that’s just happened.
The first few minutes are spent in silence. I fill my senses with everything that I’ve been missing. The way the jeep smells like him. The way the passenger seat feels like it was made just for me, broken in by hours of my butt riding shotgun. I look over and re-memorize his features. His golden curls, freshly cut, perfectly styled, with just a little gel, but not too much. The side profile of his long eyelashes. His eyes, a dazzling blue, when he catches me staring.
He smiles. It’s the first real Jeremiah smile I’ve seen in I don’t know how long. Trying to remember the last time brings fresh tears to my eyes. I lower my head, blink them back. Bite my lip to stop it from quivering.
He glances over at me, “What’s on your mind Bells? Talk to me.”
“I was just trying to remember the last time I saw you smile like that, and I can’t–” my chest heaves.
“Hey.” His voice is soft. He checks the mirrors, guides the jeep to the side of the road and stops, reaches over and tips my chin up. His eyes search my face. He takes my hand, and puts it over his heart. It's racing, the same as mine. “I love you. I’m in love with you. I never stopped loving you. My heart is yours. And I’m so happy right now. You make me happy. That’s all that matters. Okay?”
“Okay.” I smile, let out a shaky breath.
He leans in and I put my hand on the back of his neck, pulling him toward me. His lips come around mine in desperation. His tongue is like velvet tracing my bottom lip and then swirling around my tongue. He pulls back, looks at me as if reminding himself that this is real, and goes back in for more. Four years of passion, want, need, and longing, a lifetime of love is spoken in this one kiss. There’s still so much to figure out, but I don’t plan on letting him go, letting him let me go ever again.
“Where are we going?” I whisper into his lips when he pulls back to take a breath, twisting a strand of my hair between his fingers and tucking it behind my ear.
“I don’t know. We have a lot to talk about. I just figured we’d head west until we are done talking and see where we end up. Adventure is worthwhile in itself right?”
I tilt my head and dip back in for another taste of his pillow soft lips. “Sounds perfect. Will you help me change out of my dress first? This thing is so uncomfortable it's making me want to claw my skin off.”
“Sure. Should we find a gas station or rest stop on the road?”
“What about back there?” I motion toward the back seat.
He lifts his eyebrows. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, why not?”
Jeremiah disappears behind tulle and lace when I crawl into the back seat, helps me stuff the poofy fabric down.
I turn and look over my shoulder. “Unzip me?”
His hands are quivering like the bars of a feather in the breeze as he undoes the clasps at the top and slowly pulls the zipper down, exposing my back. His fingertips trail down my spine and then his breath sends a shiver through me when he follows with his lips, placing soft, gentle kisses one after the other from top to bottom. My body hums with pleasure.I slide the straps off of my shoulders and dig through my bag for a t-shirt.
His arms come around my shoulders with his white dress shirt. “Want to wear mine?” He knows I do. When we were together I wore his shirts just as much as I wore my own.
I reach my head back and kiss him. “Yes.” I tug his shirt on and button it up, shimmy the rest of the dress down and off my legs and pull on a pair of cut off jean shorts. Crawling back into the front seat I put on my seat belt and look over at him.
He opens his hand and I lay my palm over his, close my fingers over the back of his. He lifts our hands to his lips and presses his lips to my knuckles. “You ready?” he asks.
“Mmmhm,” I smile.
Jere drives with one hand on the wheel and one in mine. He keeps looking over at me like he still can't believe it's real. The way we talk and giggle as the hours, the miles, and eventually the states pass by reminds me of when we were kids.
He keeps asking me if I need to stop to pee, or if I’m hungry. And when we do stop he gets all the best snacks. Eventually exhaustion overtakes me and I fall asleep with my head in his lap. I wake up with a blanket over my legs.
“Are you tired, do you want me to take over?” I ask through a yawn.
“Nah, I’m all hyped up on adrenaline and drive-thru coffee.” His smile is warm and his eyes sparkle, reflecting the lights of the oncoming traffic.
We enter the state of Nevada and see a sign for Vegas.
He looks at me with a gleam in his eye. My heart picks up a beat in anticipation of what’s coming.
He pulls off to the side of the road and jumps out of the jeep, bounds around the front and opens my door. “My lady,” he says as he takes my hand and I step out.
He’s on one knee in front of me and my free hand flys to my face. This is my dream come true. My real dream. But it's real. Is this really happening?
“Bells, I’ve loved you since I was 16. Maybe even before that. You’re my best friend. My everything really. And I'm sorry for the pain I caused when I pushed you away. I just didn't want to be in the way of you and what would make you happy. I put everyone else before myself, but in doing that I put everyone else before you too. And I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
“Jere-”
“I can’t imagine my life without you in it and I don't want to. Ever again-“
“Me either.”
“So if I’m what really makes you happy, then Isabel Susannah Conklin, will you marry me-”
“Yes!!!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire life.”
I’m off my feet and spinning in his arms. He sets me down and crashes his lips into mine, backs me up and presses me against the passenger side door of the jeep.
He calls my Dad and then Mom asking for permission once we’re back on the road. Regardless of how they really feel they both give their consent, knowing full well we’re doing this whether they like it or not.
There’s a sign in front of a cute little white chapel on the strip. With the strike of a pen we sign up for a micro wedding package. Thirty minutes later, we’re standing in front of an officiant, saying, “I do,” and promising forever.
We book a room at a hotel for the night and make love until we crash from exhaustion, thirty-nine hours of driving finally catching up. I wake up with his hand resting between my bare thighs, his breath on my cheek. I slip out of the sheets and into my cream satin robe, tiptoe to the sliding glass door.
The city is still asleep, mostly. It’s a lot quieter than it was last night at least. The lights, the buildings, the streets that surround the hotel, pavement and metal, couldn’t be more different than what I imagined they would be on the morning of my honeymoon, but they’re beautiful in their own way. Nothing matters more than the man sleeping inside.
The door slides open behind me. “You’re not in bed. I came looking for you.” His voice is husky and warm. He wraps his arms around my waist from behind and presses against me, pulls me into him, brushing his soft lips down my neck.
I cover his hands with mine, rubbing my fingertips over the back of his hands and intertwining our fingers splayed across my stomach. “Good morning husband.”
“Good morning wife.” I feel him smile against my skin.
“Hmmm. What are you thinking about?” he asks, kissing my shoulder.
The words that come out have nothing to do with what I was just thinking about. “Did we move too fast?”
“What?” He lifts his head and spins me around in his arms, searches my face. “Is this a trick question? What answer isn't going to have me sleeping on the couch tonight?"
I jab him in the ribs with the tip of my elbow.
“Ow!” He shrugs. “My wife can stab me a little bit. I don't care."
“Jeremiah, I’m serious. Do you have any regrets about yesterday? About last night?”
“No.” He plants a kiss on my forehead, each of my cheeks, my nose, and then my mouth. He pulls away and I chase his lips.
“Do you?” he asks.
“No.” I slide my hand up his ribs and tease his nipples with my fingers, kiss the freckle just above his lip. “Hey pretty baby,” I whisper.
“Yeah?” The sound of his voice is sexy as hell.
“Take me to bed or lose me forever.”
He raises my hand above my head, twirls me around, and leads me back inside.