Meet Me at Midnight

18 | For Better or Worse

Nick

They say that the moment you say I do, everything changes. But for me, that transformation began long before the vows were exchanged. It all started the instant Sarah took Andrew's hands in hers, sealing a bond that felt monumental. At that moment, the world around us seemed to drown in silence, as if time itself paused to pay homage to their love.

Sarah’s voice trembled slightly as she recited her vows, but the conviction in her gaze never faltered. Andrew, usually the king of humor, stood before her with an unusual seriousness, looking at her as though she embodied every good thing that had ever graced his life, wrapped delicately in layers of white lace.

To be fair, she was the best thing to ever happen to him, even though I know that.

"I do," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, glistening tears catching the light like tiny diamonds in her eyes.

"I do," Andrew echoed, his deeper tone steady yet laced with palpable feeling. Applause erupted around us, filling the air with electric energy, and the officiant’s smile radiated warmth.

Cameras flashed, capturing the moment like fireflies caught in a jar. Outside, snow drifted lazily through the cool air, falling gently like confetti celebrating a love story.

But instead of focusing on the couple, my gaze shifted to Stella.

She stood beside Sarah, bouquet cradled in her hands, her eyes shimmering with unbidden emotion. Yet, despite the tears, her smile was genuine, wide and unguarded, radiating a joy that seemed to momentarily banish any darkness that had lingered in her heart. I hadn’t seen her smile like that in what felt like ages.

God, she was beautiful.

It wasn't just because her hair fell in perfect curls framing her face or that the blush dress hugged her every curve; it was the way she looked at her best friend, radiating a joy so pure that it felt almost tangible. It was as if this moment, this love being celebrated, had rekindled a flicker of belief in love within her.

For a fleeting moment, I let myself dream.

Imagine if it were us standing there, in that delicate space of untamed possibility.

Imagine if I were to reach out, would she not pull away?

Imagine if the distance between us wasn’t burdened by the weight of years spent in silence. I don’t know what I did to make her hate me all those years ago, and I would be lying if I said that it hasn’t eaten away at me every day since.

If I could, I would go back and change anything I did that led to this situation. I thought we had something real, but then she ghosted me as if I had never existed. For years, I have resisted the urge to confront her and stomp all over her, build up walls, and demand answers, but I know Stella too well. If I did that, she would likely run away, and this time I might never see her again. I couldn't take that risk.

Our eyes met across the aisle, and for a heartbeat, the world around us disappeared.

In the blink of an eye, I felt everything. She was a kaleidoscope of memories wrapped in a single look: late-night laughter shared in study lounges, the slight way her eyes crinkled in mischief when she was ready to tease me, and the soothing quiet we used to share which I now craved more than anything. Not the absence of sound, but that ineffable peace she brought into my life.

But then, as quickly as it began, she looked away.

And in that moment, everything returned to normal. Yet there I stood, rooted in a snowy wonderland that felt meticulously crafted for two people who had genuinely gotten it right, with a bittersweet ache in my chest.

The crowd broke into joyous applause as Sarah and Andrew sealed their vows with a kiss. The music swelled anew, melodic and sweet, as they turned to walk back down the aisle, hand in hand, grinning like they inhabited a universe of their own design.

They thrust their joined hands in the air, cheering as if they had just won the SuperBowl, and s**t, maybe they did.

The wedding party followed, a parade of laughter and love, and then there was Stella, stepping forward into the scroll of our shared past.

Naturally, we were paired together, which felt like a cruel joke at this point.

I held out my arm to her, praying that she would just play along and not push me away. She hesitated for a few seconds, but then her arm slipped into mine, a touch so delicate that it barely grazed my skin, yet it ignited a fire that traveled through me.

I glanced over at her, waiting for her to speak, to say anything. "Don’t make this weird," she murmured, her gaze averted, focusing on the path ahead.

I managed a smile, despite the ache in my heart. "I wouldn’t dream of it."

We walked side by side, with all eyes on the newlyweds and none on us. The atmosphere was electric, filled with laughter and the soft strains of a string quartet that played in the background. The garden was adorned with twinkling fairy lights strung from the rafters, casting a warm glow over the unfolding celebration.

As we moved further away from the laughter and clinking glasses, I felt a strange mix of emotions bubble within me. Part of me was utterly captivated by the joy radiating from the happy couple. They looked perfect, lost in their world of love and promise, while the other part of me felt a twinge of envy, a reminder of my own unfulfilled dreams.

The guests went straight from the ceremony into a hall adorned with flowers, lights and memories of Sarah and Andrew. They snuck off with their photographer for a private session while everyone else gets settled into our seats.

I knew where to go, what to do. We practiced this. But somehow all the plans etched into my mind slipped away. Stella was gone, slipped away from me without a word. I stood there, lost and a little flustered.

A gentle hand grabs my waist, a feminine touch. “Let’s grab something to drink,” Lisa suggested, wanting to divert my mind from the swirl of emotions. I nod, not thinking much of it. What else was I going to do?

We made our way to the bar, where a cheerful bartender was mixing vibrant cocktails.

As we waited for our drinks, I couldn’t help but overhear snippets of conversation around us. The guests were animated, sharing stories and laughter, and the clinking of glasses created a soundtrack of celebration. It was infectious, and I felt my lips curling into a grin despite my earlier thoughts.

Lisa stands beside me, a playful smirk playing on her lips. She isn't the woman I want, but for now... she will do.

With drinks in hand, we found a quiet corner away from the crowd. The distant sound of laughter became more muted here, and for a moment, I could hear myself think.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like?” I asked, gazing into my glass as I watched the condensation drip down its sides. “To be the center of attention, to have all those eyes on you, just like they do?”

Lisa sipped on her drink thoughtfully. “Sometimes. But honestly, I think everyone has their own story. It’s easy to envy without knowing the full story.”

I pondered this as I took a sip of my drink. Life was indeed a patchwork of joy and heartbreak, often intertwined in ways that were invisible to the outside world. Maybe one day my time will come. I just hope it's with the right woman.

As the night unfolded, I found myself caught up in the rhythm of the wedding. The music swelled, and I watched as couples took to the dance floor, spinning and twirling in a symphony of movement and happiness.

Stella sits three seats away from me, still refusing to look in my direction. After a few drinks, and then a few more later, I find myself a little drunk, which is never a good thing. When I drink too much, I have a tendency to speak without thinking, and it's then that I see her watching me.