She Stole The Bride

1

Sydney's POV

Panic rushed through my chest at the sight of the invitation. It dangled in my daughter's hand, as she excitedly explained the details of her father's upcoming nuptials. My curious eyes followed the gold and red adorned paper, criticizing how perfect it looked. Her father was always perfect—from the way his eyes could light up a room, to how genuinely kind he was. He was an ideal mate in the eyes of many, but he was never enough for me.

I chastised myself, recounting every reason why we weren't right for each other. The occasional thought of my regret lingered. But I always knew that he'd find someone else—someone who'd love him as much as he'd love them.

"This invitation is for you," Miley's voice lowered, as she looked at me with hesitation, "I know, I know," she mumbled, noticing the disheartened look on my face.

"It would be weird," was the first excuse to leave my lips, "they don't want their big day to involve me."

"But it's Hawaii! It'll be fun, Mom. And I know he genuinely would love for you to be there."

"So that I can give him my blessing?"

"No, so that he can rub his happiness in your face," Miley's sharp tongue snapped back. Her remarks were quick. Just like mine. I always forgot how much alike we were, and it was sometimes the thing I disliked the most.

My jaw tightened, as I recalled my current romantic life. If anyone knew how pathetic it was, it was my nosy daughter.

"I'm happy for him. And I'm happy for you," I hid my anguish with a tight smile, "you have another mom now. How do you feel?"

Miley's eyes rolled into the darkness of her lids, "like I've had enough mothers for a lifetime. Between you and dad, I'm sure I've had at least fifty potential—"

"Fifty? I've dated three women in ten years, what are you talking about?"

Miley held her arm against her stomach, as she laughed, "Dad's been looking since the day you left him for your yoga instructor."

My chest rose with a heavy breath, "that's what he told you? I have nothing to do with how many women your father's introduced you to. If I did, you wouldn't have met any!"

"Come on, Mom. Chill. He was just looking for love. And you did love Yoga Mom till the day—"

A flushed feeling consumed my body, "you were five! How do you still remember her!" I placed my hands over my face. The shame I felt about that relationship never ceased.

"Because it lasted until I was nine," Miley giggled, as she looked at my pained reaction, "come on, maybe you'll find me mama number three in Hawaii. God knows you haven't spread your legs since—"

I placed my palm over her mouth to shut her up. Nothing's more humiliating than your daughter knowing how long it's been since you've been intimate with someone. But unfortunately, that's how close we were. It was a blessing and curse rolled into one odd maternal relationship.

Looking coldly into her eyes, I told her, "I'm not going to the wedding. And I'm not talking about my sex life with you."

I took an intense moment before removing my hand, "there's nothing to talk about anyway," she crossed her arms over her round chest, and leaned backward against the couch.

A foul look graced my face, "you're rude."

"I inherited it from you. I wonder the trouble you gave grandma when you were growing up," her snickering voice lingered in my thoughts. I looked intently at my seventeen year old daughter, almost forgetting how angelic she was compared to my teenage self. But she didn't need to know about how mischievous her seemingly boring mother once was. I'd never hear the end of it.

"I was a good Catholic girl," my cheeky smile somehow didn't fool her. I noticed those inquisitive eyes, trying to read my mind, as though she had a sixth sense. Noticing the vein popping on her forehead, I changed the topic, "I'm hungry. Are you hungry? I'm thinking about pizza for dinner."

Her stare faltered by the mention of food, "I am, actually. How did you know? Did your spidey senses tell you about my empty stomach?" Miley was predictable. If anything could distract her, it was filling her stomach with carbs.

While she obsessed over the online order, I picked up the invitation, and felt that panic again. I was happy for him—elated. Maybe that woman would give him the happiness he deserved. God knows that I couldn't, no matter how hard I tried. But I knew one thing for sure—I did love him. And it would be painful to see him at the end of that aisle.