My Fisherman

“Savannah, stop moving your head.” Savannah immediately went still. “I’m trying.” “You've been trying for the last ten minutes.” “I know.” The woman standing behind her laughed softly as she continued fixing Savannah's hair. “You're making my job difficult.” “Sorry.” “You don't have to apologize. You're just nervous.” Savannah looked at herself in the mirror. “Nervous.” “Yes.” The woman adjusted the veil carefully over Savannah's hair. “You're getting married today. I think you're allowed to be nervous.” Savannah stared at her reflection. Today. The word felt strange. She was getting married today. Her eyes moved slowly over the woman in the mirror. The white dress fit her perfectly. It had been chosen months ago after several fittings, several opinions, and one long argument with her mother about the neckline. Her hair was styled exactly the way her mother wanted. Her earrings had been chosen by her father. The diamond necklace had belonged to her grandmother before her mother gave it to her. Everything about her appearance had been carefully planned. Everything except the expression on her face. The woman stepped around her and picked up the makeup brush again. She studied Savannah for a moment. “You really are beautiful.” Savannah gave a small smile. “Do I look happy?” The woman's hand stopped. For a second, neither of them spoke. Then the woman suddenly became very interested in looking at the ground. Savannah almost laughed. “There it is.” The woman looked up. “What?” “That face.” “What face?” “The face people make when they don't know what to say to me.” “I didn't make a face.” “You did.” “I didn't.” “You absolutely did.” The woman tried not to smile. Savannah smiled too, but it disappeared quickly. “I'm sorry.” The woman frowned. “Why are you apologizing?” “I don't know.” Savannah looked down at her hands. “I think I've been saying sorry all morning.” The woman put the makeup brush down. “Maybe because you're nervous.” “Maybe.” Savannah looked toward the door. Voices could be heard outside. People were moving around. Someone laughed. Someone called for the wedding coordinator. Her heart began beating faster. The woman noticed. “Savannah?” “Hmm?” “You don't have to smile for me.” Savannah looked at her. The woman spoke gently. “If you're nervous, you're nervous.” Savannah swallowed. “I don't know if nervous is the right word.” “What is the right word?” Savannah looked at the mirror again. “Trapped.” The woman's expression changed. Savannah immediately shook her head. “Forget I said that.” “I won't tell anyone.” Savannah looked at her. The woman gave her a small smile. “You have my word.” Savannah nodded. For a moment, she said nothing. Then she whispered, “I don't want to marry him.” The woman didn't react dramatically. She simply stood there. “Alexander?” Savannah nodded. Hearing his name made everything feel real again. Alexander Grant. The man waiting downstairs. The man everyone said was perfect for her. He was successful, intelligent, handsome, and well respected. He had never given Savannah a reason to hate him. That was what made everything harder. If Alexander had been cruel, she could have walked away without feeling guilty. But he wasn't. He was a good man. Just not her man. Savannah closed her eyes. “I like Alexander.” The woman waited. “But I don't love him.” Her voice cracked slightly. “And I think everyone expects me to learn how to love him after we're married.” The woman looked at her sadly. Savannah laughed under her breath. “Can you imagine?” She turned toward the mirror again. “My father says love comes later. My brothers say I'll get used to him. My mother says I'm lucky.” She touched the edge of her dress. “Everyone has an explanation for why I should marry him.” “And what do you say?” Savannah stared at her reflection. “I say I can't.” A knock sounded on the door. Savannah immediately straightened. “Savannah?” Her mother's voice. The woman looked at Savannah. Savannah whispered, “Don't say anything.” Her mother knocked again. “Darling, we have seventeen minutes.” “I know.” “Your father wants to see you before the ceremony.” Savannah's heart dropped. “Tell him I'll be out soon.” “All right.” Her mother's footsteps disappeared. Savannah waited until she could no longer hear them. Then she looked at the woman beside her. “Can you do me a favor?” “Of course.” “I need you to go to the east entrance.” The woman frowned. “Why?” “There's a security guard there. Mr. Harris.” “Yes?” “Ask him to come here.” “Why?” Savannah hesitated. “I need his help with something.” The woman studied her face. “Savannah…” “Please.” Something in Savannah's voice made the woman stop asking questions. “All right.” “And please don't tell anyone I'm asking for him.” The woman nodded. “I won't.” She walked toward the door. Savannah called after her. “Thank you.” The woman gave her one last look before leaving. The door closed. Savannah stood completely still. Then she moved. She opened the small bag she had hidden beside the chair. Inside were a few clothes, some money, her passport, a charger, and a pair of flat shoes. She had packed it two nights ago. She had been afraid to use it. Now she understood why she had packed it. She wasn't going to marry Alexander. She wasn't going to stand at that altar and make a promise she already knew she couldn't keep. Savannah picked up her phone. The ride she had arranged was waiting on the side road. She checked the message again. Driver is waiting. Her fingers trembled. She looked toward the door. Her father knew how to get what he wanted. If he realized she was leaving, he would stop her. He wouldn't listen to explanations. He would tell her she was confused. Then he would tell security not to let her leave. And if she still refused? He would bring her brothers into it. Savannah knew exactly how that conversation would end. With everyone telling her what was best for her. She couldn't do this anymore. She took off her diamond earrings. Then the necklace. Then the bracelet. She placed them carefully on the table. She wasn't taking the symbols of the life she had been ordered to live. She picked up her bag. Then she looked at the mirror one final time. “I’m sorry, Mom.” She paused. “I'm sorry, Alexander.” Her eyes filled with tears. “But I can't.” She lifted the bottom of her dress and opened the door. The hallway was empty. Good. She walked quickly. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She reached the side exit. Her hand closed around the handle. She opened the door. Fresh air rushed across her face. Savannah stepped outside. Then she ran. She ran with her wedding dress gathered in one hand and her small bag in the other. One heel slipped. She stopped long enough to kick it off. Then she kicked off the other. “Forget the shoes.” She ran barefoot toward the waiting car. The driver spotted her immediately. He stepped out. His eyes widened when he saw the dress. “Ma'am?” “Please.” Savannah opened the back door. “Drive.” The driver looked at her. “Where?” “Seabrook.” “Seabrook?” “Yes.” “That's quite a distance.” “I know.” He looked toward the building behind her. “Are you sure you should be...” “Please.” Something about her expression made him stop. He got into the driver's seat. Savannah climbed into the back. As the car pulled away, she looked through the window. Their house became smaller. Then smaller. Then disappeared. Savannah pressed her hand against her chest. She didn't know what would happen next. She didn't know what her father would do. She didn't know whether Alexander would ever forgive her. She didn't even know whether her grandmother would understand why she had arrived at her door wearing a wedding dress. But she knew where she was going. Seabrook. The little coastal town where her grandmother lived. The place her mother had once called home. The place Savannah had spent summers as a child before her family decided she had outgrown it. She leaned back and closed her eyes. For the first time that morning, nobody was telling her what to do. Nobody was choosing for her. Nobody was waiting for her to become the woman they wanted. She was finally choosing herself.