Bottle It Up

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Update wasn't supposed to take this long but I got occupied with finals and the holidays. Either way, happy reading! :')

48

It's mere minutes away from the start of the rehearsal and my mom and Andrew's entire wedding party is crowded in our kitchen preparing to toast off the night. The guests have arrived and seated, the caterers have exquisitely dressed the tables, and the wedding march has been cued. I'd say we're all ready to go, but that'd be a lie because, in reality, I'm far from ready.

I know, I know. I'm not the one getting married, so what do I need to be ready for?

Honestly, I'd like nothing more than to be able to relax and look forward to a fun evening like everyone else, but... I just can't. While everyone is all smiles and excitement, anxiety has made me a literal mess of fingernail biting, clammy palms, and distracted monosyllabic conversation. It's frustrating.

Even more frustrating, actually, because that's not even the worse part. What's undoubtedly worse is that Luke, my minds leading man, doesn't seem to be dealing with even half the mental battle that I am right now.

I'm standing with my backside pressed against the sink and watching as the tall boy laughs and makes conversation with Andrew's groomsmen. Despite my current dilemma, I can't lie. I'm both surprised and genuinely interested in the fact that besides Luke, there are also three other guys here to stand beside and support his father at the altar. There's Travis, a short, red-faced college professor, Keith, a brawny football dad, and a familiar face, Calum. They're all huddled together at the island, laughing and making a mess of pouring champagne into their respective flutes.

And, Luke?

He looks as if he couldn't be any happier; his entire persona cool, calm, and irritatingly collected. He's wearing black jeans and a white Oxford shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and he's smiling that winsome, all-teeth-and-dimples, dazzling smile that I love so much. His usual sexy, tousled hair has been gorgeously coiffed and styled neatly, and he's taken his lip ring out for the night. It's a far cry from the sweatshirt and beanie look that he's more recently adopted, but I can't say I mind. He looks older, sophisticated, and so so handsome. He simply takes my breath away.

I can't stand it.

I hate that this is the first time in days that I've seen him. I hate that still, we've yet to talk. I hate even more that I've been up every night losing sleep over how much I miss him and he looks as if he hasn't thought of me at all. I have to say, it hurts. A lot.

And maybe it's the emotions I'm still harboring from Andrew's out of the blue confessions or me just being my usual melodramatic self, but tear swim in my eyes.

No.

Not here, Annie.

Turning around, I discreetly turn on the faucet and shove my hands underneath the steamy, running water in an attempt to distract myself from my climbing emotions.

Come on, bottle it up.

Only, the more I try to pull myself together, the more dejected I feel. I don't know if it's the fact that I realize that, the closer my mother and Andrew get to finding true happiness in their lives, the further I get away from mine. Or, the fact that lately, it seems that the way I care and feel about Luke is no longer mutual on his end. Which ... is probably my fault.

It's all so much and I can't hold it in any further; I'm going to cry. Dammit, Annie. Panicky, I glance over my shoulder and out into the room, surveying the crowd. My mother is pressed against Andrew's side, completely engrossed in a conversation with Liv and her other bridesmaid, Elise, and the guys are still distracted. Okay, safe.

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