Bittersweet Reunion

“We can’t always choose who we are meant to be with; sometimes, at all times the choice belongs to God.” The words of Pastor King reverberated through my mind as I stood under the tall evergreen tree in the garden.

I looked up through the green leaves, squinting at the sun’s rays falling through the branches. It had been a perfect day, the day I was praying would come.
I looked across at the guests gathered on the other side of the garden. They stood together laughing, chatting and hugging each other. Then I saw him among the crowd, he saw me too and began walking towards me.

I smiled as he approached, showing how happy I was to see him, how grateful I was that he had come. He was taller than the last time that I saw him, that was almost three years ago; his complexion was darker then too. His awkward gait had now transformed into a suave stroll.

He smiled back broad and happy, although in his eyes there was pain and sadness, almost defeat. I guess he took the Pastor’s word to heart too.
“I always thought you and him would be great together,” I remember his best friend telling me once. The problem was that everyone thought that we were perfect for each other, even I did. He was the one that seemed to think otherwise.

We knew each other since primary school, and even though I ignored his love for me during that time I grew up. I was twenty, I needed someone to love and he was right there. He was perfect, charming and he still loved me. So why didn’t he love me? He allowed someone else to steal my heart.
The brittle, sun dried grass cracked under the weight of his feet as he came closer. He had lowered his eyes; his fists were shoved into the pocket of his trousers.

“Hi Michele… I just wanted to say-“

“Wait” I interrupted when I felt a tug on my dress.

I looked down seeing the problem; “You’re standing on my dress”

He quickly removed his foot leaving a dull brown stain on the hem of my white dress. We looked at each other and broke out in laughter like two primary school children sharing a private joke.

“Congratulations on your wedding Mimi.”

“Thank you,” I said still laughing.