Page 13 of Whispers of My Skin

“What?!” She retorts indignantly. “I didn’t think you were actually serious—how can you contemplate such a thing? Since your father is no longer with us, the honor of walking you down the aisle belongs to my husband, your stepfather.”

“No one is going to take my father’s place, not your husband or anyone else.” Certainly not a snake like Oscar.

“But what are people going to say? The guests, what will they think?”

Here we go again. I couldn’t care less what her stupid guests think.

“Mom, surely our dreadful engagement dinner was entertainment enough for all your friends, so hopefully they won’t even bother to show up.”

The only people needed at this wedding are Joel and me, plus the judge and a couple of witnesses.

But I’m suddenly overcome with nerves.

I’m dizzy, short of breath and nauseous.

The world fades around me as I start to lose consciousness.

My vision fades into two black pin holes.

In the distance, I hear my mother calling my name.

Someone catches me as I fall, and I silently thank them for averting an embarrassing face plant.

But then… what is that God awful smell?

“Get that away from me!” I splutter, trying to avert my head.

“Do you feel better now?” Mom asks. “Do you want me to call the doctor?”

No. No doctor required. I know what he’s going to say, no point wasting money on a home visit.

“Darlin’, if you feel sick, let’s just cancel the wedding. I think it’d be for the best anyhow,” Mom pleads.

“Cancel? No, Mom, don’t even think about it,” I protest vehemently while taking several deep breaths to calm myself.

The clock is ticking and I’ve run out of options.

“Tara, my dear, I understand that you don’t want Joel to know, but you can’t conceal this forever. He’s going to find out at some point.”

Trust me, I’m fully aware of that fact.

I place one hand on my belly, with the other I beckon my mother to help me up, noticing that she’s gone as white as a sheet. Could she actually be concerned about me for once, rather than caught up in own selfish little world? She’s aware of my condition, but still blissfully unaware of the true motive for my hasty marriage. And that’s exactly how I want it to stay.

How many people am I lying to? How good an actress have I become?

My mother hands me a glass of water. I’ve barely taken a couple of sips before Camille enters the room to announce that Joel has arrived, and that the judge who will perform the ceremony is waiting for us.

“Mom, go downstairs, please,” I instruct her. “Tell them I just need a few more minutes.”

“Tara, are you really sure you want to go ahead?” She sighs when I nod. “I really wish your father were here. He’d know how to deal with all this.” She shakes her head then kisses my forehead, before leaving me alone with my muddled thoughts.

When the going gets tough, the tough get going. Get on with it, girl.

This is what I tell myself as I take the small bouquet of flowers from my dresser, inhaling their sweet fragrance as I clutch them to me, taking a final deep breath before leaving the safe haven of my mother’s guest room. Walking down the stairs, through the house, and out into the garden, it feels as though I’m descending into purgatory, about to pay for all my mistakes.

But when the violin strikes the first note of the nuptial march, and Joel slowly turns to look at me, all my fears and worries fade away. He smiles, our eyes lock, and all I want is to be with him. I close the short distance between us, and as I stand by him in front of the altar, his hand reaches for mine, comforting and calming me. No matter what’s happened, the magnetic charge between us is still there, orbiting my world around his.

“You look beautiful,” Joel whispers. I’m too choked up to speak, yet my skin sparks at his touch.

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