Eight Hours

I walked down the aisle with a smile on my face. When I looked straight at the altar, I saw him -- the man of my dreams. He was the man who stole my heart when I was merely twelve. He was the only man who's made my heart skip a beat. He was the one who defended me, the one who took long walks with me to watch the sunset, who chatted with me about everything and nothing, and the one who called me for late night talks. He was the one who warned me and told me never to settle for less. He was the one who told me I was beautiful when I was feeling down. He was the one who said no man would ever be worth my time.

I don't even remember the first time I met him. He's always just been their -- a permanent fixture in my life. At first, he was just someone who was like an older brother, but as time passed, he became so much more than that.

As I neared the altar, he graced me with a sweet smile but never approached me. It was like my feet had a mind of its own since it walked past the altar and straight to the side where the Maid of Honor stood. My heart hammered in my chest. What? Who was he marrying?

It was like my body had a mind of its own. The song changed into Salute D' Amor and I watched as the bride entered the room. Her face was obscured by the veil. I looked at him -- the man of my dreams -- and he had this sweet smile on his face. The kind of smile that told you he was -- is -- in love.

My mind went blank then. The next thing I knew the words "You may now kiss the bride." escaped the preacher's mouth. I watched as my heart was shattered into pieces as he lifted her veil and --

I woke with a start. My heart hammered in my chest and that sinking feeling crept into my heart. That wasn't possible. He couldn't be getting married could he? My eyes drifted to my bedside where a little flash of pink caught my eye.

I sat up abruptly and my fingers took the delicate pink envelope. Whatever was inside slipped out and fell on my purple covers.

"You are cordially invited to the..." That was how far I got before my stomach flipped and I rushed to the bathroom and emptied my already empty stomach.

"No, no, no," I muttered, "how can it be?"

I dragged myself back to the bed and faced the invite. "...which will be held on December 31, 2012 at three in the afternoon..." My eyes drifted to my phone and I unlocked the screen. December 31, 2012, 7:02AM. My face blanched. How could I forget? How could I be so stupid to forget when I was, in fact, the Maid of Honor. 

The worst thing about nightmares is when they become a reality and mine was just about to become one.

I placed the invitation back into the envelope. 

Eight hours. 

Only eight hours until he was officially married.

I grabbed the medium sized box from under my bed. I opened the box and took out the two things I've kept inside: a scrapbook and a journal.

I remember clearly the day I packed up the journal and the scrapbook. I had just turned eighteen that summer and he was three years older than me. He stayed with my family for two weeks and those two weeks were complete bliss. It started with him waking me up in the morning, breakfast with him, a movie, lunch, then back on the couch, a stroll around the neighborhood to watch the sunset, dinner with the family, long talks into the night, and finally, a kiss on the cheek as "Good night." It was the perfect routine, until that last night.

I remember that night perfectly. It was late, nearly midnight and we were the only ones still awake. He was to leave the following day. He was different somehow that entire day and once we were alone, he was quiet. It was like something plagued his mind.

The movie had just ended and we were seated on opposite ends of the couch. Silence reigned, but it wasn’t that normal silence that we had. This one was weighted like both of us had something to say but couldn’t.

He was the one that broke it first.

“I’m courting someone,” he finally blurted out.

My heart suddenly stopped and I was at loss for words. What could I possibly say to the man I’ve adored for years? In the end, I said nothing. I held my tongue.

“Rachel?” he called out softly. “Did you hear me?”

I forced a grin on my face, praying that he wouldn’t notice the tears glistening on the corners of my eyes, and face him. 

“That’s great news, Kuya," calling him by a name that signified respect and distance in a way. "I’m sure she’s a great girl.”

He smiled then and my heart just broke even more. “She’s your age, you know, and she’s taking up biology.”

She’s my age? Do you still see me as a child, Kuya, I wanted to ask. What does she have that makes you see her as a woman and I as a child? “Do you think we’ll get along?” I asked instead.

He nodded. “I can’t wait for you two to meet.”

I stood up and faked a yawn. “It’s late, Kuya, I have to go to bed.”

He stood up and brushed his lips lightly on my cheek. “Night, Cheeseballs.”

Another knife cut through my heart at the use of his childhood endearment for me, but I kept it in. “Good night.”

The moment I had shut the door to my room, I broke down in tears. How could it be? I spent the next couple of months depressed and locked in my room. My parents eventually had to drag me out of my room for a summer camp that I had signed up for early in the summer.

Still, even when I was there, that feeling of depression was still present. I thought I was hiding it pretty well until my camp counselor came up to me and asked me in the bluntest way who broke my heart. It was then that I broke down. How could she – a virtual stranger – see through me so clearly? She never said a word until I had finally quieted down. I can still remember the words she told me that night.

“Rachel,” she began, “it doesn’t matter who broke your heart. There’s someone out there waiting for you. It has not worked out with this one because you weren’t destined to be with him. I’m telling you right now, give it up. Let the pain go and enjoy life. Don’t worry about it yet. When the right time comes for you to meet, you will. I know God has a plan in store for you.”

With those words, realization dawn on me and I let it go. But now, it seems like I haven’t yet. I lifter the journal in my hand and opened It randomly.

“I don’t care that he loves another. I don’t care that I would probably get hurt in the end,” I had written then. “All I want is to be able to spend time with him.”

I chuckled softly to myself. How naive was I then. But now, I knew better. What more could be a better teacher than seeing the man you love get married to another in less than eight hours.

My phone rang then. It was her -- his fiance. It was Abigail.

“Rachel?” she spoke breathlessly. It was as if she was on the verge of hysteria.

“I’m here,” I answered.

“Do you,” she stuttered and cleared her throat. “Do you think you can come over now?”

“Abi,” I began calmly. “Relax. You’re at your house?”

“Yes.” I brought my phone away from my ear. It was 9:52AM. “I can be there in an hour the latest,” I told her instead. “Is there anything you need?”

“No,” she answered. “I just need you here.”

I smiled even if she couldn’t see me. “I’ll be there.”

She hung up then. Abigail was his bride. I should hate her, but I couldn’t. There was something about her that just made you love her, but it didn’t lessen the pain of losing him. I owed it to him.

I sucked in a breath. Time to put on a mask – for his sake, at least, I thought.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“10:48,” I muttered. “Only five hours left.”

My hand was barely poised over the doorbell when the door opened revealing a nervous bride. She pulled me in and dragged me straight to her bedroom.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your wedding,” I asked after catching my breath.

Abigail collapsed on her bed. “I don’t know, Rachel, I really don’t.”

I sighed and took a glimpse of her room. Everything was in place, except her bed was scattered with countless pictures and papers. I took a seat beside her and my eye caught a glimpse of the pictures. It was their pictures.

“He loves you, you know,” I said finally, ignoring the ache in my heart.

“And yet, you love him,” she stated softly.

I stayed quiet.

“I can see the way you look at him,” she continued on, “but he doesn’t see it, does he?” she laughed bitterly. “Did you know he always talks about you?”

“I’m nothing but a sister to him,” I said. “You should’ve seen the look in his eyes when he told me about you.”

She sighed. “Do you remember the conference where he introduced us?”

I nodded, “He told me you and he were on a break, yet he called you aside and introduced us.”

“I was shocked, you know?” she said. “I thought he had moved on.”

I shook my head at that. “Kuya, knew even then that you were the one for him. When he introduced us, I didn’t know what to think. Straight after introducing us, he dragged me away. He pulled into the opposite direction of you saying he needed to get away. We ended up a few rows in front you, instead.”

“Funny how that worked out, huh?” she said with a laugh.

I smiled sadly. “He wouldn’t stop teasing me and pinching me. I wanted to turn around and tell you – reassure you – that this was just a game to us.”

“It was weird, you know,” she began, “seeing that happen. It made me wonder why he wasn’t that way with me.”

“And it me wonder why he still saw me as a child he used to watch out for,” I said. “Why are we even talking about this? You’re getting married in –” I checked my phone: 11:30AM “– three and a half hours.”

She smiled sadly, her eyes drifting off to a small blue envelope. I picked it up carefully, “May I?”

She nodded.

On the back of the envelope three two words were written: feelings and intentions. It was in his handwriting.

I smiled sadly. “He gave this to you on your first date.”

She looked at me wide-eyed. “How?”

“He told me,” I said. “He told me that the moment he saw you pass his way, he knew you were the one. He told me that he’d had crushes on other girls before, but with you, it was different. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Did you know he asked my parents for advice?” I shook my head. “They told him to wait before pursuing you, but he didn't.”

“Sometimes, I think that we were too young when this whirlwind started,” she said with a sad smile.

“But you love him, I can see it in the way you look at him and in the way he looks at you. It’s there.”

She opened her mouth to respond when a knock interrupted her.

“Come in,” she said instead.

Her mother’s head popped in, “Abigail, shouldn’t you be getting ready?” she spotted me then, “Oh, hi, Rachel.” I smiled my hello and she turned back to her daughter. “So?”

Abigail smiled at her mom. “We’ll have lunch first then start getting ready.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

I took a deep breath, the constant ticking of the clock in the dressing room of the church constantly reminding me of my impending heart break. It was already 2:42PM. I stood outside the men’s dressing room, my hand poised to knock, while the other held a sparkling pink envelope.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked anyway and by some miracle he opened the door slightly. A look of shock crossed his face and he stepped outside to talk to me. My breath caught in my throat. He looked amazing in his white tuxedo.

“Cheeseballs, did something happen?” he asked me using an old endearment once again.

I grinned at him. “You do know you’re going to have to stop using that nickname on me won’t you?”

“Oh, really? Come on, Cheeseballs,” he said with a pout, “everyone knows you’re my little sister.”

I felt my heart clench. I’ll always be just his little sister, but I shook my head at him instead and raised the sparkling pink envelope. “Anyway, I came here bearing a small gift from your soon-to-be-wife.”

He took the envelope from me. “Thanks, Cheeseballs.”

I smiled, the pain in my heart blooming once again. Only a few more minutes and he was married. “Welcome, Kuya.”

I turned to leave then but his voice stopped me. “You know even when I’m married I’ll still be here for you right, Rach? You’re my little sister and I’m still free to beat up any guy who looks at you the wrong way.”

I smiled through pain stabbing me in the heart.“I know, Kuya.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“It’s time,” the wedding coordinator called. 3:00PM: my eight hours are up.

I pasted a smile on my face and took my place right in front of the bride. The pain I felt in my heart, aching to show. All too soon, I got my signal.

I walked down the aisle with a smile on my face. When I looked straight at the altar, I saw him -- the man of my dreams. He was the man who stole my heart when I was merely twelve. He was the only man who's made my heart skip a beat. He was the one who defended me, the one who took long walks with me to watch the sunset, who chatted with me about everything and nothing, and the one who called me late at night. He was the one who warned me and told me never to settle for less. He was the one who told me I was beautiful when I was feeling down. He was the one who said no man would ever be worth my time. 

He wasn’t mine and he never was.

I walked straight to my position. My body moved robotically. As I watched them go through the motions, the pain in my heart slowly began to dull. I realized that I never actually saw Kuya in that way, he was just a distraction. I knew that I would get better because there was somebody else better in store for me, it was all a matter of waiting for the right time and right person.