Unwanted Days of HOLY HOLIDAY

THE CEREMONY

Walking hand in hand with Mr. Zack, I felt the smooth fabric of my sleeveless mermaid gold dress hugging me in all the right places. His cream-colored suit, the one I had chosen for him that day, looked impeccable on his broad shoulders. Every step, every glance, made my pulse race. My chest fluttered, though I tried to steady my breathing, reminding myself: this is just escorting him to a wedding. Nothing more.

“I told you I’d put on anything you choose,” he said casually, his voice deep and confident as we approached an older couple, their expressions warm but discerning.

“Hello, sir. Good evening, ma’am,” he greeted, and I mirrored his politeness, my voice steadier than I felt.

“I’m glad you made it here,” the man said with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

The woman’s eyes didn’t leave me, her gaze curious but kind. I forced a small smile, trying not to feel self-conscious.

“Uh! This is Evelyn Lawrence. Eve, meet my dad and ma’am,” Zack introduced.

Wait. What? Meet the parents? My mind froze for a second. He didn’t warn me. He knew full well that meeting someone’s parents carried an unspoken weight, an implication of intimacy I hadn’t signed up for.

“I’ve never heard of Lawrence,” the dad said, a curious tone in his voice.

I assumed he wanted to know my family background, but Zack knew just how to deflect. “You’ll talk to her later. Let’s go in,” he said smoothly, taking my hand and leading me toward the church.

“Hope you enjoy it,” the woman smiled, following her husband with grace.

We were joined by several other elegantly dressed people, likely family members, all buzzing with excitement. Smiles seemed permanently etched onto their faces, and their energy was contagious. My mind drifted for a moment, imagining myself in a wedding dress, my uncle at my side, walking down an aisle filled with friends and loved ones. My groom would be at the altar, waiting impatiently for my hand. I shook my head, snapping back to reality.

We chose our seats, and soon the church was full. Everyone settled down, the anticipation palpable. I rolled my eyes, trying to contain the nerves twisting in my stomach.

Standing up, the bride and groom entered, and applause erupted around us. I watched, my breath catching, waiting to see Zack’s younger brother. My gaze was glued to the groom, my heart thumping. Something about him felt familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Panic fluttered in my chest.

Zack noticed my hesitation and pulled me down gently. “Are you okay?” he whispered. I nodded, though my mind was racing. His hand rested lightly over mine, grounding me.

“Do you know them?” he asked, eyes flicking to the altar.

I shook my head slightly, a huge “no” unspoken. How could I explain that the man standing there was… Xavier?

“You’re breathing harder than usual. Are you really okay?” he whispered again, his hand pressing slightly over mine.

“I’m fine,” I said firmly, but he didn’t seem convinced.

“Hold on a minute,” he muttered, tapping the back of my hand. A small, comforting smile appeared on his face.

I wanted to tell him everything—about Xavier, about the chaos in my chest—but I couldn’t. I just nodded, trying to steady my racing thoughts.

The pastor’s voice continued, the words washing over me in a blur.

“I, Xavier Moore, take Janet Winston to be my….”

It was him. My brain refused to comprehend at first, but my heart didn’t lie. Tears pricked my eyes, unbidden. I tried to blink them back, but Zack noticed, his brow furrowing as he gently touched my hand. I swiped at the tears before he could do anything else, but his grip tightened slightly, offering silent support.

“Is a minute that long?” he muttered, eyeing his watch, a teasing tone in his voice.

“Aren’t they good together?” I asked, forcing a smile.

“They are,” he said simply. Applause erupted as the newlyweds walked out, everyone clapping and cheering. I joined in, though my mind replayed the image of Xavier at the altar, his smile fixed on someone else.

Zack grabbed my hand, leading me quickly to his car. The cool evening air did little to calm the storm inside me.

“Don’t you think you have to explain?” he asked after a long silence.

“I was just moved by how great they looked,” I said, attempting calm, though tears peeked at the corners of my eyes.

“You are lying,” he said, his brow furrowed.

“I want to go home,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“Excuse me?” His frown deepened.

“I want to go home,” I repeated, trying to regain composure.

“Eve?”

“The deal was to escort you to the ceremony. It’s over, isn’t it?” I added, hoping that would settle the matter.

“Eve?” His tone was patient but edged with frustration.

“I’ll go now,” I said, opening the car door and stepping outside. Happy couples passed by, laughing, holding hands. I couldn’t afford an Uber home, nor could I take the bus dressed like this. My heart sank.

Zack was already walking ahead, a smirk playing on his lips. “It’s almost 19:00. Allow me to take you somewhere,” he said.

I had no choice but to follow. The car ride was silent except for the occasional distant sounds of celebration. He eventually halted in front of a large house. “Your place?” I asked, frowning.

“Let’s grab a glass of vodka before we go to the ceremony,” he said, opening the car door for me.

“Take me home,” I corrected, attempting calm.

“Whatever,” he muttered, leading me inside.

He went straight to his wet bar while I made myself comfortable at the kitchen table. He returned with two glasses and a bottle of gin.

“This looks nothing like vodka,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll love it,” he said confidently, pouring shots.

I raised mine. “I’m loving it already,” I said, downing the shot. The warmth spread through me, melting some of the tension.

“Eve?” His voice was softer now, serious. He moved closer, sitting so near that I could feel the heat of his body.

“Too close,” I murmured, pouring myself another drink.

“Perfect. Now, truth or dare?” he asked, his eyes sparkling.

“I hate it,” I admitted.

“If you choose truth, you have to tell me in detail what happened at the wedding. If you choose dare, you must kiss me.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“Truth or dare?” he repeated, leaning slightly toward me, the challenge evident in his grin.

I gulped. Xavier’s image flooded my mind. I couldn’t tell Zack about him. I couldn’t even think about a married man right now. My thoughts narrowed, circling only around the present.

“If I take one, will you never ask me about the other?” I asked cautiously.

He nodded. I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to calm my racing heart. My hand reached out instinctively, cupping his chin. I felt the sharp scent of gin on his breath, mixed with a cologne I couldn’t place, intoxicating.

Before I could overthink it, my lips found his. The kiss was electric, a jolt of heat and tension that made my knees weak. His hands slid around me, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss. The sound of glass shattering somewhere nearby barely registered.

I broke the kiss slightly, breathless, and he grinned, eyes dark with mischief. The warmth of his hands, the firmness of his embrace, and the thrill of defiance against my own tangled heart left me dizzy.

I had no idea what I had gotten myself into.