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Assistant: Title: Hello Darlin’
        Author: Walkingdownadarkalley Walkingdownadarkalley 
        Chapter: 13/14 
        Summary: It all started when Powder put up a wedding invitation on the fridge.I asked her not to mention Caitlyn, yet she openly recalls old stories and memories in a fond manner, a way to tease me. Each one is a stab to the heart, but over the years the pain numbed down to a dull, muted ache.ORSeveral years after a break up and zero communication, Vi gets a sudden invite to her ex’s wedding in London. Powder encourages her to go, but Vi isn’t sure she’s ready to see Caitlyn after things ended badly.
        Contents: Chapter 13: Never
    

    

        
          
          
            The wedding.
          
        

      
        
          HERE IT IS BUCKLE UP FOLKS SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG JESUSalsoI included some art bc when i cant get myself to write about them i must draw them-- so here in the beginning you have the Powder and Vi wedding fits. Later on theres two more fit checks, then towards the end theres two ROUGH sketches that i never got around to finishing but wanted to include cause VIBES right? Be gentle ok dont yell at meps. sorry if theres issues with seeing the art? im in school for computers so youd think i know what im doing but this is my first time uploading images to ao3 and she is PUTTING ME THRU IT (seems to be working on pc but not mobile :/ fuq)
            
            (See the end of the chapter for  more notes.)
            
      
  

  
  
    
     I was quick to find Powder in the sea of Brits. Not many of them seemed to have quite as bright of hair as we did, making us stick out like sore thumbs. But we had been used to that, enjoying our unnatural hair since we were kids.  She waved me over, having snagged some seats in the center of one of two sections on either side of the aisle. We were on the right side. I sat down with a huff and slapped my hands down onto my legs as I stared at my shoes. “Everything okay?” Powder asked, nudging me slightly with her elbow. But I didn’t look up at her when I responded. “Yeah,” I breathed. “Yeah, I’m good.” “...Alright,” she didn’t sound convinced, clearly doubting me, but I didn’t have the energy to care.  Simply, I stayed put, leaning back in my chair and closing my eyes for a few seconds to breathe. I was rebooting my brain, trying to remind myself that everything was alright, that I wasn’t bleeding or dying, and neither was anyone around me. I sucked in air through my nose and let it go through my mouth, trying but failing to subtly calm the nerves that started to spike in my fingertips as I suddenly felt myself starting to be pulled back to reality.  Whatever mindset I had put myself in to protect my heart and brain alike was starting to wear off, and the truth of my position and of the situation started to crash down all around me. Breathing suddenly became harder, and my hands trembled, but I focused on keeping the anxiety at bay, recalling old tips from my days in therapy. It helped. And I kept my eyes closed for a bit longer as I continued to steady my breathing. But behind my eyelids were images, ones I didn’t give my mind the consent to show me. Ones familiar, of memories from just the day before. How Caitlyn looked in that blue dress, how she hugged me so tightly for warmth, how she held and kissed my hand, and my blurred vision as I later cried my eyes out on the hotel bathroom floor. Even then I could feel her eyes on me, see her lips moving as she spoke, how her hands moved with grace, and her long legs taking wide strides that I often couldn’t keep up with in my nightmares. She’d strut away from me, never looking back, never thinking twice. She’d get into a cab and disappear, until one day when she decided to jump scare me for a reason I was still struggling to understand.  These pictures in my mind of a beautiful woman. The one that broke my heart, broke my very being, that I hated for feeling dependent on. I had  just  fixed myself up, figured out how to live without her and be happy, when she decided to show up again and  wreck everything.  I had half the mind to be mad at her for it, but I couldn’t be. Despite how I had grown and changed within the past five years, how I learned to care and love for myself, that didn’t change how much I loved that frustrating woman. I was independent. I was. Always have been. But when I was with Caitlyn, I slowly learned what it meant to be taken care of for once, and she cradled my heart in her hands alone. And I let her.  I should be able to hold my own heart, and her hands should be there for support, not as a necessity.  But I was young, still learning how to even be loved in the first place, and it left me vulnerable to pain. To betrayal.   I had worked so hard. So hard.  Cried too many tears. Worried my sister too much. And I was  finally  happy,  finally able to comfortably and confidently hold onto my own heart with care. I could make myself joyful. I could depend on myself for anything I needed, albeit still learning and growing, as we ought to all our lives.  I was scared that Caitlyn might sn@tch my heart away from me, and that dependency would bloom in me again. I didn’t want to let myself be handled completely by another person, and I didn’t want to put that responsibility on them either. But when I saw her again,  truly saw her, talked with her in the privacy of her bedroom and the booze let her own layers of insecurity wash away, I realized something.  Despite the hurt, the pain, I still wanted her there. I wanted to feel her hands on my heart again, but not alone. Not again. I wanted them to cup underneath where I had my heart in my palms. Feel the warmth of her skin in contact with mine, the promise that if I needed it, she’d be there.  That  reassurance.   I wanted it  so  badly. But Caitlyn had to be willing to give that support, and Caitlyn made her choice when she decided to say  ‘yes’  to Victoria on the day she proposed.  I suddenly questioned if I was a m@s@ch@st, sitting in the crowd of family and friends at my ex’s wedding. The ex I was still in love with. Why did I torture myself like this? Why did I want to see her seal her vows with a kiss to another woman? Why?   My hands started shaking again in earnest, and I felt myself beginning to spiral. A mixture of confusion, of painful love, anguish, and sadness washed over me all at once and I could hardly stand it. I wasn’t breathing anymore.  No . I couldn’t be. How the  f@ck did I get here? 
   Was I drugged? 
 
   Am I still drunk? 
 
   Is this a dream? 
 As I looked around all I saw was  white . Hanging, dangling orchids and flowers draped the overhanging loft balconies of the second floor, ribbons lacing its banister. The chairs had soft cushions for your back and behind, creamy and duller in color. Heels click-clacked against perfectly polished bright marble floors as guests went to find their last-minute seats. Even  everyone here  had  white teeth. White. 
   White. 
 
   White. 
 Even though Caitlyn always said her favorite colors were blue and gold. 
   “And red,” she’d always add there at the end, like she forgot only for a moment that she needed to include my very bright hair in her considerations of “best” color.  
 
   That always made us laugh… 
 Loud notes interrupted my thoughts, the imposing organ beginning its piece to declare the ceremony a go. It rumbled the ground like an earthquake, and I felt almost as if I could feel the vibrations in the air hit my face. It made my thoughts blurry, checking out for a moment before I could really focus again. First came Cassandra, walking alone down the aisle with a proud and happy expression. Dark lipstick matched her dark floral-patterned skirt and blazer. Her hair was pulled tightly and perfectly into a small bun, pinned with what looked like real diamonds to keep it in place. She calmly but swiftly took her long strides (with The Kiramman Legs™) all the way down to greet the priest standing front and center. Then she took her seat, and the rest of the crowd turned, anticipation prickling on everyone's skin in watching who will emerge next.   An old couple, smiling insanely huge, hands and arms clasped together like if they let go, they’d fall away. I assumed these were Victoria’s parents, happy and relieved to be entering the Kiramman family. It was quite a status most in the business world wanted, and this family looked like they had prayed for it for years. Overall, they did certainly seem glad that Victoria found her right match, as Caitlyn surely had certainly grown to love her. But then again there could’ve been details about this marriage I was yet to learn. Or perhaps I was overthinking it again.  
   I definitely was. 
 They sauntered slower than Cassandra, quietly greeting guests in the group as they moved along, and eventually they took their place next to Caitlyn’s mother. The maid of honor, Martha. On her arm was someone you could guess was the other maid of honor (for Victoria), them both smiling happily with elbows interlocked and two very lovely dusty colored pastels on their dresses. They split once they reached the middle with a little hug and took their respective places. One more couple of bridesmaids strutted down the aisle only a moment later. I could recognize both of Caitlyn's bridesmaids from phase two of the bachelorette party. But on Victoria’s side? Not a clue who either of them were. In fact, it was then I realized I didn’t even know what Victoria looked like. 
   But I was about to find out. 
 The priest made a grand gesture, raising us to our feet to look down that aisle once more. And there, I saw a woman in a white suit. Perfectly and completely white, not a stain, not an exception. It fitted her body perfectly, broad hips and an itty-bitty waist accommodated well. She was a natural redhead, her hair dark and warm, while also almost perfectly straight down her back. I noticed several cartilage piercings, being more diamond or pearl jewelry, on the one ear I could clearly see. Her lashes were full, her cheeks had freckles, and a permanent resting b@tch face that could make your bones shiver. But she was smiling awkwardly the more she made it closer to the altar. She had her hands clasped behind her back as she tried not to rush, white heels (to match the suit of course) softly thudded against the velvet aisle carpet. 
  
 It seemed someone still needed this wedding to be a bit heteronormative. The groom walks alone while the bride is escorted by her father. But you also didn’t usually stand for the groom, and he always entered at the very beginning of the ceremony. So, it seemed maybe there was compromise too, letting Victoria have that “bride walking down the aisle” feeling just as much as Caitlyn.  I gulped as I realized what came next.  [    Look up darlin'   ]  One final time the crowd collectively turned to the hall entrance, and as the music swells in perfect timing, a silhouette from the evening sun pierces through the open doors. She emerges slowly, but gracefully, and with purpose. Like stepping from the fog, suddenly her heel is on the velvet too. You could hear them, though not see them, hidden under a flowing, full skirt. The gown was simple, not too crazy, backless. Though next I noticed her back was yet covered still by a long veil tucked into her bun, one that mirrors her mother’s own hairstyle. The veil draped all the way down her back and to the ground, tracking behind her the full length of the aisle.  
  
  [    Let me kiss you   ]  
   Reminds me of Princess Diana.  
  [    Just for old time's sake   ]  Gorgeous. Stunning. Unspeakable. Inconceivable. My eyes started burning either from the over exposure to all the white, or my sudden urge to sob that was only increasing in frequency these days. I couldn’t decipher which, I just managed to stop myself from looking like a fool and willed the pain away. I shut my eyes only for a second, not that much longer than a blink, but when my eyes opened again Caitlyn had made it to Victoria.   [    Let me hold you   ]  [    In my arms one more time   ]  They held hands, they smiled sweetly to each other, and the priest gestured again for us to sit back down. I almost forgot, my body not seeming to respond well to what was going on around me. Luckily Powder yanked me down before my insistent standing could get weird.  [    Thank you darlin'   ]  Then the priest spoke.  [    May God bless you   ]  “Dearly beloved, you all have come here today to be witness of a great promise and intention into marriage so it may be strengthened. Welcome.”  [    And may each step you take   ]  Powder put her hand on my knee. Apparently, I had been bouncing it too aggressively.  [    Bring you closer   ]  [    To the things you seek to find   ]  “Life and love are the greatest gifts bestowed upon humanity…”  [    Goodbye darlin'   ]  I tried to swallow, but my mouth was too dry.  [    Gotta go now   ]  “...May your union grant you patience, tolerance, and understanding…”  [    Gotta try to find a way   ]  Caitlyn brushed a stray hair away that was too short to stay pinned back out of her face.  [    To lose these memories   ]  “...as well as the passion and excitement every marriage should possess…”  [    Of a love so warm and true   ]  Her eyebrows furrowed, and she worried her bottom lip just a little. I watched as it sunk under the pressure of her teeth, then she let it go. She was fidgeting, staring down at how her hands were being held by Victoria’s.   [    And if you should ever find it   ]  “Should anyone believe these two should not be joined in marriage, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”  [    In your heart to forgive me   ]  Immediately my glance went to the back of the Kiramman’s heads, faint echoes of Cassandra’s voice in her hallowed halls ringing in my ears. Something like jealousy and burning pettiness seethed within me, my chest lighting on fire with each inhale, stoking the fire. Because she was just  sitting there.  She had nothing to say, and neither did Tobias. Despite being told they had expanded their worldviews and grew more accepting, it didn’t hurt any less to see someone else benefit from my metaphorical death in their daughter’s life.  A stretch of silence fell over the church, the priest presumably turning the page in his book to soon proceed to the next line. My eyes never followed back up to him though, burning holes in the back of Cassandra’s head, clenching my fists against my thighs where they rested. However, unexpectedly, everyone’s attention was suddenly drawn to one individual.  “I–I’m sorry, I can’t do this–”  [    Come back Darlin'   ]  It was nothing more than a soft mutter, but in the quiet room, anything could be heard from the gentlest whisper. I snapped my gaze immediately to the voice, recognizing it right away, and already convincing myself that I was hallucinating. I must’ve passed out, I had to be dreaming, for sure now.  [    I'll be waitin' for you…   ]  
  .
 Caitlyn had a death grip on Victoria’s hands as her own gaze shifted from the priest to the woman in front of her. I saw glass in her eyes, a threat of emotion so close to coming to fruition. Even under the mountain of makeup she was surely forced to wear, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and an overwhelming feeling that looked to be swallowing her whole. Caitlyn almost looked like she was about to start choking, like she couldn’t breathe, and when she couldn’t get more words out Victoria placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned in slightly.  “Caitlyn?”  I heard her say.  “Caitlyn, what’s wrong?”  She averted her eyes to the ground, her head lowering as she attempted to catch her breath. Soft murmurs started to spread around the church at Caitlyn’s sudden mood change, and both of her parents stood, unsure if she needed more or less attention. They both seemed to be responding on parental instinct alone, wanting to comfort their clearly distressed child. Soon enough, though, Caitlyn picked her head back up and said something else to Victoria, something I couldn’t make out with the rising volume of guests confusedly gossiping in their seats. I couldn’t see Victoria’s face, her back to me, but she seemed to be paying close attention to Caitlyn’s muddled together words, and as the noise grew in the church so did Caitlyn’s heaves.  I saw as her blue eyes quickly flicked around the crowd and landed on her parents just over Victoria’s shoulder. Tobias then took four large steps up to his daughter, taking one of her hands and giving it a tight squeeze. She said something more to him before shakily turning to her guests, letting go of neither person’s hands she had in her grasp, albeit one of them briefly to wipe her face as tears started to fall.  “Excuse me, e–everyone,” her voice was unstable, shaken, like she had just survived a car crash and needed to share details with first responders. “I’m– I’m very sorry, very sorry that you all came here,” she abruptly exhaled, needing to catch her breath and sniffle. “Came here just f-for me to…” Caitlyn trailed off again, overcome by likely all the words she wanted to say but couldn’t. All the while my eyes were wide, glued to her, and I couldn’t move. I wasn’t in my body anymore, my mind was blank, and I could do nothing more than watch the scene unfold without being sure I was even breathing myself. “It’s not Victoria’s fault–!” she had to raise her voice slightly as more and more people started to stir. Whether they were upset or just plain unable to comprehend what was going on, that was yet to be fully determined. But Caitlyn didn’t look to dwell on it, saying her next words directly to the woman still holding one of her hands.  “It’s not your fault…”  The poor priest was in a state of complete shock, holding onto his little book like it was his lifeline. He came back to himself soon enough as the volume only continued to grow, and he called for everyone to please settle down, like a judge in a court, however much more politely. He only had so much authority over these strangers. Tobias tried speaking to Caitlyn meanwhile. He succeeded if only for a short time before everyone could hear her talking again.  “I can’t in good faith marry you w-when…” Caitlyn stuttered over her own lack of breath again, and her wet face didn’t allow for much of anything less than a complete show of her emotions. “When… when I–” She was struggling to get the words out, struggling to keep eye contact with Victoria, struggling to breathe. She stared at her shoes for a long time before finding the strength to look up again. She looked at the woman before her, but then just over her shoulder again, and miraculously, her gaze found mine. Like two magnets snapping together, we made sudden eye contact, and she didn’t shy away. Her eyes were pleading with mine, but for what I had no clue. She didn’t break away, only kept staring at me with a quiver in her chin. However, that was the breaking point for me. Somehow it suffocated me further, unable to understand what was going on around me. I felt stuck in one of my hallucinations. Ones this intense I hadn’t had since I was going through the throes of my withdrawal symptoms, but with how stressed I had been in just a short amount of time, I couldn’t blame my brain for short circuiting.  
   I had to get out of there. 
 I needed space. I needed air. I needed a safe place to put the pieces of my mind back together and still my vibrating heartbeat.  Not knowing where I was going, I stumbled over the people in the seats next to me, pushing through to get out from the middle of the section. I didn’t have the peace of mind to say excuse me, or to register Powder calling out after me. Her words were muffled, as were the complaints of all the aristocrats in which I stepped on their toes. But soon enough I was speeding down the same hallway as before. I sprinted past the door to the bridal suite, where I had accidentally run into Caitlyn getting ready, and ran right through the door to the bathroom I discovered soon thereafter.  It had provided me with quiet refuge before, and I would take advantage of that again now. I didn’t even consider locking the door behind me, simply going to the far back corner of the room and slumping to my knees. I tangled my hands in my hair and ducked away from the world, as if to hide in plain sight. My shoes and slacked legs slid on the tiled, smooth floor, but I kept adjusting myself to shrink into the tiniest ball I possibly could. This could  not be happening. She objected to  her own  wedding. Why? 
   Why? 
 
   Why? 
 It made no sense. It wasn’t for me. 
   No. 
 How could it be? Was coming here a mistake? Did I make her second guess herself? Did I overstep a boundary?  Am I the reason she objected? Am I the reason she can’t be happy? Am I responsible for those tears? For her torment? What will Tobias think? What will Cassandra think? What will Victoria think? What…  what  is  Caitlyn thinking? Why did I want her there to explain it to me? And why did I want her nowhere near me? Why was guilt consuming me? Why did I feel like everything was my fault? 
   Why did I feel so certain that it was? 
 Why can’t I breathe? Why can’t I see? Why can’t I feel my legs? Is my lip bleeding? Am I biting my lip? 
   I must be. Too hard.  
 Why didn’t I notice sooner? … Why can I hear Powder’s voice? Why is she shouting at me? 
   Why do I feel her presence? 
  “Vi!”  I felt a shake on my shoulder, gentle, but there, and a brush of touch over my hands still tangled against my scalp. “Vi,  please, talk to me.” All I could see was the red of my hair in my eyes. I was trying to press myself as far as I could into the corner, like I could melt myself into the wall and disappear fully. My mind was so panicked and full that it almost felt empty. I couldn’t process a single thought, therefore it’s practically like nothing was even there to begin with. Akin to the feeling of severe coldness beginning to feel hot. Words flew in and out of my brain, in one ear and out the other, so quickly that as soon as I was thinking of a new sentence, the previous one was completely erased. “Powder…” A new voice entered the scene, and one that made my shoulders tense. “Caitlyn,” Powder addressed this voice from beside me. “I  really don’t think–”  “Please,”  she begged.  “Please  just let me talk to her.  Just…  just for one minute… 30 seconds…  anything.”  A pause was in the air, and upon hearing her request, something in my stomach lurched. I couldn’t identify what feeling it was. Dread? Worry? Disgust? Longing? Excitement? Anxiety? Perhaps all of them, perhaps all at once. But I could do nothing about it. Merely I managed to turn my head enough for my eyes to peek out and catch a glimpse at my sister. She had come to my side, resting on her own knees, both her hands on me in a comforting and protective manner. She wasn’t looking back, as she was staring at the doorway directly behind me, but at my movement I caught her attention. We made eye contact this time, and a conglomeration of every emotion she must’ve felt about me in the past five years was written all over her face, dancing in her irises. Primarily it was worry, but I also detected a hint of guilt that I didn’t fully understand. Her lack of words clued me into what she was trying to say, as if she was asking permission for her to leave me with the woman waiting at the threshold.  I blinked slowly, exhaled, and she understood. Powder got up, walked from me, and softly mentioned she’d be right outside guarding the door for privacy. A thank you was heard, so sincere, so little.  Soon after the door thumped closed I heard her collapse behind me. A large ruffle of fabric fell on top of itself, a heavy sigh exhausting from her lungs, and the slap of her palms on the ground as she braced herself. She sniffed, her breathing burdensome, and I could hear the hesitance in the air caught in her throat the first few times she tried to speak, but failed. Eventually, she mustered up what she could, and it was just enough to spare. “I… I have no words…” her broken voice was almost unrecognizable. I had never heard it sound like this before. “But  I  want to find them… if you could just…” More ruffling of her large white skirt, another sniffle, a gasp of breath, more hesitance. “I don’t deserve to be asking you of  anything,  but… please…  please  allow me the chance to… to explain…” Her words were so  pitiful,  it made the primary feeling in my swirling mess of a gut be guilt, be sorrow. It caused the basic instinct in my giving nature to comfort her, to hold her, to tell her it would be okay.  Like how I used to do.  But what would the use of that be now? No matter how I loved her, no matter how she hurt me, it didn’t change the confusing whirlwind of events that were a tornado all around us now. Neither one of us could read each other's minds, and horrible communication seemed to continue to be the thing that perpetuated this whole ordeal.  But here she was. On her hands and knees, crying,  trying, pleading, reaching out to me. Turning to barely look over my shoulder I could see that was indeed the case, her hand afraid, but nonetheless in the air in a want to touch, to connect. She was disheveled to say the least, a wreck, impossibly drained, yet overflowing. I saw how her hand trembled in the air as it begged to be held, to feel something, to find acceptance. When I looked and said nothing, her shaking fingers inched closer, impossibly slowly. Like approaching a frightened animal, trying to show it you meant no harm, but with the desperation of wanting companionship, comfort, support, anything. I let her hand near me, I didn’t flinch, I didn’t back away, I just watched her, wanting the exact same but too terrified to show that I did.  I still didn’t understand what was going on. I didn’t know  why she was here.  I had a million theories in my head, but I couldn’t allow myself to entertain them. Not for a second, or I would perhaps go insane right on that bathroom floor.  Her fingertips eventually graced the apple of my cheek, and it brought goosebumps to my arms almost immediately. She gasped at the contact, at the fact I hadn’t moved away or yelled for her to get back. Some bitter, angry part of myself was screaming in the back of my mind, but the pure love and emotion, how I succumbed to it, was drowning all that out.  
  
 All I could see in front of me was a broken woman who had made mistakes, baring her soul, her heart to me, making herself so impossibly vulnerable in the slim chance that I’d listen to what she had to say. Whatever it may be. I hoped for an explanation to what just happened and favored that over the apology that I had been aching for all this time. If anyone was the scared animal backed into a corner, it was her. But she was still so capable of hurting me, I realized, with what she was implying she wanted to explain. I knew by then my love for her would never waver, never diminish, never change, and no matter how that hurt to admit, knowing she didn’t feel the same was some kind of reassurance. It was a certainty, something solid that I could grow to accept more and more over time even if the love never disappeared.  But the not knowing. The sudden change in her plans. Why didn’t she want to marry Victoria anymore? The implications were killing me, and the more her mouth remained closed the more I felt myself being overwhelmed with the possibilities. With a few simple words she could make me jump for joy or crush me entirely.  So I wasn’t just going to  let  her explain,  I needed her to.   The selfish part of me leaned slightly into her touch, and with more confidence than before her palm smoothed over to cradle the side of my face. I had always felt that her hand fit perfectly against me, where I felt so at home, where I often turned to place a kiss to her palm. And that hadn’t changed. They were still the same hands, and all too quickly I found myself clamoring forward, fresh tears in my eyes as I sought to hug onto her, bury myself in her shoulder, and weep. I wanted her embrace, her comfort, one more hug before she destroyed me, or saved me.  Before whatever she needed to tell me.  Before whatever I needed to hear.  “Cait…” I shuddered out. “Cait…  please,  before you say anything just… just please tell me I didn’t ruin this–” “No– no–” Caitlyn shushed me the moment those last words fell from my mouth. “You ruined nothing. God, Vi, I… was the one who ruined everything…” She mumbled towards the end of her sentence, and I just burrowed deeper into where neck met shoulder. I cupped the back of her head, my other arm around her back, hand balled up and tilted away like I was still afraid to touch her skin with my calloused hands. She held onto me equally as tight, speaking into my hair where I could feel several strands near my scalp get hit with heavy tears. We sat quietly for a moment, but Caitlyn had more to say. 
  
 “This was all me,  my  f@ck up,  my  decisions, all of them. Then  and  now. And not all of those decisions were right, but… this one…  this one right here…”  “Me coming here–” “Vi, if you  hadn’t  come, I would’ve married a woman I didn’t love and regretted it later. I  needed  you here… I needed  you, and… and I didn’t even know it consciously when I invited you but–” She sniffled, running her fingers through my hair.  “I knew… I  knew it wasn’t Victoria I wanted to meet under that altar… and to pretend like she was... wouldn’t be fair to her… nor myself.” Caitlyn was trembling, the entirety of her. Her voice was afraid, weak, small, but  so honest. It was deep and from her chest, like how I knew she spoke when she was nothing more than utterly sincere. But that just made it all the more terrifying. She was revealing her hand, putting all the cards on the table, all or nothing, her heart open for me to crush just as mine was to her.  
   “I never stopped loving you, Violet.” 
 Her whisper was but a harmonic on her voice, barely there, the tiniest it had ever been. Like a whispered secret between oneself and their own thoughts, I couldn’t help but think perhaps I wasn’t supposed to hear the confession, but she buckled down as my own fresh tears spilled over and wet her exposed shoulder. 
   “Never.” 
 
  .
 All things considered, I don’t know how long we spent in complete and utter silence simply holding onto one another. Like we were making up for the five years of wasted time. Feelings were unspoken, but understood, and eventually our grips grew less desperate, and we were merely leaning on one another. Both of us exhausted, no doubt, just wanting a moment to catch our breaths in the relative quiet.  She was the first to speak again, after we heard the shuffling of shoes and hushed voices outside the bathroom door and could sense our small space of immunity to the outside world was quickly becoming no more. “I want to talk more…” she said. “I  need to talk more… with you. I have so much to say, so many explanations… so many apologies to give to you…” She gently carded her hand through my hair once more, and I didn’t respond. Not verbally, anyways. I nodded where I had my head resting on her shoulder still, and my nose creased with the movement. “I certainly have a few things to clean up here… some conversations to have with Victoria and my parents, but… would you want to… to come over? Sometime later?” At this point I was tired of second guessing myself, worrying myself sick. With the little Caitlyn had shared thus far, most of my fear of the unknown was gone. Caitlyn wasn’t tricky and sly like that, not with important matters of the heart. What she was alluding to was most likely the reality, knowing to always be frank and clear about these things. At least with me anyways. Despite how much we’d both changed, I couldn’t ever see her becoming manipulative that way.  Especially not after the little crying session we shared for however long it had been.  I nodded again and sniffled, mumbling into her skin before I sat up:  “I’d like that…”  
  .
 It wasn’t until a few years had passed and we had more time to heal that Caitlyn fully sat down and told me about the conversations she had before departing the wedding venue. I had parted ways with Powder to collect myself at our hotel for a bit, catching her up to speed as well. Meanwhile, Caitlyn returned to the second bridal suite, where Victoria waited for her. She described to me in great detail the amount of shame, embarrassment, guilt, sadness, and countless other emotions she felt upon seeing her expression. Caitlyn had loved Victoria in some way, but not the way Victoria loved her, not in the way that really counted. She spoke first over Caitlyn, a painfully understanding smile on her own tear streaked face. “Did you talk to her?” Her voice was gentle, not dissimilar to Caitlyn’s own, the two of them more alike than Caitlyn and I are. It took her off kilter for but a moment, but she quickly steeled herself, and nodded a silent confirmation, rubbing at her own mess of a face.  Caitlyn shuffled forward in her awkward gown, moving to sit in another chair close to where Victoria had decided to take a seat.  “Victoria–”  “No,  Caitlyn,” softly, she stopped her, and even softer like, she took her hands in her own. “Please… let me say something first.” Again, Caitlyn took a moment before she processed the words and returned her request with another silent nod.  “I don’t want you to apologize, Cait. I know you want to, and I know you will anyways, but what I want you to know is… it’s alright, okay?” Caitlyn couldn’t help the further emotion that welled in her eyes as she listened, biting her lip in vain to keep them at bay. “I… I think I always…  knew,  and I share fault in the sense that I wanted to deny it. I never brought it up even when I wanted to… but what good does worrying about the past do now, hm?” She huffed through her nose, returning Victoria’s brief, wry, sad smile that was ever present on her face. She was attempting to keep things as light as she could without diminishing the real weight of the situation, and Caitlyn had later expressed to me that she was ever so grateful for that grace. It was a terribly desolate moment, a breakup to put it so simply. Whatever love had bloomed between the two of them was  real,  and a connection, a life, a  partnership  was fading. Caitlyn would miss her and felt too selfish and tacky to ask her to remain friends. They had a great trust, a great relationship, and their own journey of years together certainly didn’t mean  nothing.  Caitlyn credits Victoria in protecting her from herself, keeping her sane in the times where she didn’t know how to act, when she craved companionship. She felt she had used the woman in a sense and would feel forever responsible and guilty about it. Though to my understanding, Victoria doesn’t blame her for anything, too forgiving for her own good. “Just… just promise me…” Victoria’s voice wavered with the tears overtaking her, looking down to stroke over the backs of Caitlyn’s own shaking hands. She picked her head back up to look her dead in the eye. “Promise me  you won’t force her away this time… that you’ll find a way to be happy, and… and that you  won’t give up.”  She had a determined look about her face as she lovingly squeezed Caitlyn’s hands further, water blurring both of their visions. Caitlyn could do nothing more but nod for a third time, sharply inhaling through her teeth in such a way that produced a louder than wanted heave. She pressed her and Victoria’s hands to her forehead as she felt the world she had known and deluded herself in slowly fading away. . 
   “Caitlyn–!” 
 Both parents spoke at the same time when Cait entered the other bridal suite alone, where she had been with them not too long ago. One parent had worried filled in his voice, the other concerned, but perhaps not for the reasons Caitlyn wanted her to be.  “Dad, mum–” she tried, but Cassandra held up her hand to stop her in her tracks. She could hardly get any words out no matter where she went to explain herself, and the dread was slowly starting to kill her. Her shoes were squishing her feet, her hair and veil was giving her a migraine, and this dress weighed like, a million pounds. Irritated at her mother’s initial reaction to her distressed daughter, Caitlyn just finished closing the door behind her and walked to the plush ottoman nearer to them, ready to kick off her shoes and attempt to keep the tears still streaming down her face from her mother’s view.  “Of all the inconceivable, irresponsible,  incompetent things–” “Cassandra,  please,”  Tobias raised his voice to stop his wife’s rambling that was sure to last a little too long before it got out of hand. She immediately sent daggers his way, and he softened his demeanor, but not his stance, in her gaze.  “Perhaps, darling,  we should hear her out before we pounce on her.” He moved to squeeze next to Caitlyn on the seat, gently taking her hand that had been idle on her lap, almost buried in the mass amount of fabric. He focused now solely on his daughter, speaking again as Cassandra pointedly went silent, but still not letting the tension disperse from the room. “What happened, dear?” he asked, using his other hand to yank his handkerchief from his pocket and press it into her palm.  But Caitlyn couldn’t speak, not with her mother staring at her like that. So, she just buried her face in her hands, gripping that which her father gave her like a lifeline, caring little if she smudged makeup on it for the time being. She’d say sorry to him later, though she knew he didn’t really care about a stupid piece of cloth at that exact moment. Tobias proved that by smoothing his hand across her back soothingly, not pressing her, waiting until she was ready to talk.  Caitlyn could feel her mother’s impatience, but she felt it slowly start to melt away the more emotion she let barrel out of her mouth in heaves and sobs, hunched over and trying not to rip out her hair like a child. She didn’t know if she was drowning it out or not, the impatience, not until she felt a different, smaller hand on her bare back and then someone who could only be her mum kneel in front of her. “Caitlyn,” she said, so much quieter this time, but with still all the power her voice always possessed. “Forgive me. I’m…  confused.  I’m frustrated. I took it out on you when I shouldn’t have. I’m…  trying,  Caitlyn, I am, but I  need  you to explain to me  what happened.”  Sniffling, she dared to lift her head, damp eyelashes heavy as they lifted to see the sympathetic face of Cassandra. Glancing to her side, she saw her father, wearing the same expression, however with more worry where her mother’s curiosity was.  It was one of the most difficult conversations of her life. However, it ended with a mother who got the answers she wanted and was able to key into her motherly side much more when the business side of her brain was settled. In reality, she was more focused on how the two wealthy families would aid one another (the Kiramman’s mostly, as they were clearly just absolutely  loaded)  after the marriage, and neglected to properly register that Caitlyn not truly being in love was at all an option. It seemed Cassandra did indeed want her daughter to be happy in her marriage. She wouldn’t force her to get married to someone she didn’t want to,  certainly not.  But she  had been under the impression Caitlyn was thrilled, happily engaged, and couldn’t wait for this union. She was blinded, and when Caitlyn tugged her back into reality, it disoriented her in a way that forced her defense mechanisms to come out. Something Tobias and Caitlyn were intimately familiar with. That said, Tobias on the other hand seemed to already expect everything coming out of Caitlyn’s mouth.  When the father and daughter had time alone, he unveiled to her that he had a secret. That secret being my sister, of course, who coincidentally spilled the beans to me when we got back to the hotel.  And when I say the first thing I wanted to do was hug her,  I mean it.   Should I have been upset? Should Caitlyn have?  Who  f@ck@n’ knows. We don’t. Because we weren’t.  Both of us simply collapsed in the arms of our family in a wave of disbelief and awe at their perception. Almost like guardian angels, we felt we owed them for life since they managed the impossible feat of getting us to once again be in the same room together. When Caitlyn got changed and told me she was going home to her apartment (same phone number as before by the way), she also made it a point to ask if Powder had told me the story too. When I confirmed she did, we both sent the exact same stupid emoji of the little guy bawling his eyes out at the exact same time.  
  
  

    
      
        
        
          I LIED I WANT YOU TO YELL AT ME IN THE COMMENTS HAHA TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK >:)ps. love you all!'
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