The Girl I Once Loved: Love & Hate Duet

“You look drop dead gorgeous!” my sister squeals, eyeing me up and down with awe-struck appreciation. “You are going to give me a run for my money on my wedding day, squirt.”

“I very much doubt that.” I smile, happy that she’s pleased with how the dress looks on me.

“Don’t just stand there! Give us a few twirls,” Daisy insists, stepping back to sit down on the white plush sofa next to our mother.

“I’m only doing this because you’re the bride-to-be and apparently, I should encourage your every whim and fancy,” I joke, giving her the twirl she asked for.

“Again!” She starts clapping excitedly, coaxing me to whirl around in circles like some off-balanced ballerina.

“Okay, that’s enough,” I say once I start getting dizzy.

I’d be absolutely mortified if I fainted in the changing room of this high-end couture shop. When we first went to pick out our dresses in that dainty cute boutique back in Thatcher’s Bay, I had no idea that it was linked to such a prestigious store on the east coast. When we entered the shop earlier, I had to do a double take, thinking we must have been in the wrong place, since there was no way Daisy could possibly afford to have her wedding dress made here. But then I quickly remembered who she was getting married to—Derrick Monroe, one of the heirs to the Monroe billion-dollar fortune. Once that realization kicked in, my anxiety settled somewhat. I guess I should be happy that all we had to do was take the ferry to Falmouth for the last fitting and not a plane to Paris. I’m sure if Daisy hadn’t insisted on using a designer from our quaint little island, Derrick would have been more than happy to charter a private plane to fly us across the pond for our dresses.

But then again, Daisy was never one to want for much—her pride made sure of that.

Still, I am happy she’s allowed herself to enjoy some of the perks that marrying into wealth provides. This dress alone must cost a pretty penny. The soft cream-colored material perfectly hugs my body in a way that is to be expected from a hefty price tag. Daisy did a good job in picking such an elegant dress.

In all honesty, I wasn’t sure how my sister envisioned her wedding to be, since it wasn’t until very recently that I discovered that getting married was even on her radar, but I’m mildly surprised she took the sophisticated-elegant route. But then again, I shouldn’t be shocked with anything Daisy does anymore. Like a box of chocolates, you never know what to expect from her. It’s one of her most endearing qualities.

“What do you think, Mom? Doesn’t Sky look breathtaking?” Daisy continues to praise.

My mother looks me over again, with the same affectionate smile stitched to her lips.

“She really does. Absolutely beautiful,” she says, and I can see by the overcome emotion in her eyes that she means it.

“Thank you,” I smile gratefully.

When Daisy told me a few days back that she decided to make our last fitting day, a mother-daughter extravaganza, I was a little apprehensive to say the least. My relationship with my mother hasn’t exactly been smooth sailing as of late, but all in all, today has been lovely.

We started off going to our favorite brunch café near the park, the same one Mom used to take us when we were but knee high and stayed there for hours just reminiscing about the good old days when our little family consisted only of the three of us. I had forgotten how close we three had been when Daisy and I were growing up. And somewhere along the line, I also forgot how many sacrifices my mother had made to save enough money to do these little types of surprises like take us to brunch just to put a smile on our faces.

Looking back now, not once did I hear my mother stress or complain about money, nor did I ever feel less than compared to the other kids at school just because I lived in a one-income home. Somehow, Mom always made sure we had the essentials, and most importantly, that we felt supported and loved.

Of course, after Mom married Curt and we moved to Thatcher’s Bay, our dynamics did shift somewhat, but even when she was living in her honeymoon bubble, I knew my mother loved me with all her heart. That there was nothing she wouldn’t do to ensure my happiness. It pains me to see how far we’ve drifted away from each other, but after today, my heart begins to cling to the ribbons of hope that maybe there is time for us to find our way back to each other.

Having had enough of being on exhibit, I step off the small circle pedestal and walk over to my sister, pulling her up from her seat.

“Enough of Mom and I doing a fashion show for you. Now it’s your turn. I’m dying to see how your dress will look on you after the finishing touches.”

Daisy’s blue eyes sparkle as she offers me a small nod.

“Okay.”

She lets one of the attendees lead her back into the changing room, while my mother and I wait for her, drinking champagne, compliments from the groom.

“The dress really is lovely on you, Skylar,” my mother says after a long bout of silence.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she retorts, defeated, as if wanting to strike up a conversation with me, but not finding the right words to do it.

I chew on my lower lip, wondering if it’s wise to broach any subject with my mother. In all fairness, today has been so amazing, I would hate to spoil it in any way. Especially if it will only bring up old resentments.

Still, there are a few questions I’d like some answers to, especially the one concerning my mother and Noah’s unexpected comradery. Seeing as my mother and I are rarely in the same room alone together, now is as good a time as any to bring the subject up. I just have to ease into it without causing a fight.

Daisy would not be happy with me if I ruined such an important day with my pettiness.

“It’s been nice being back home,” I say, splitting the awkward silence in half.

“It’s been nice having you here,” my mother retorts with a shy smile.

“It’s amazing how everything is exactly the same and yet different.”

“Different?” She arches a curious brow. “How so?”

“Well, for one, I’ve noticed that you and Noah are now on good terms. If I remember correctly, that wasn’t always the case.”

“Hmm,” she hums non-committedly, giving me absolutely nothing in return.

Okay, Mom.

I can play hard ball too.

“I mean, Noah was never outright mean, but he never quite accepted you, either. I’m curious as to what changed,” I add before taking a sip of my champagne, pretending the small talk topic I chose to have with my mother doesn’t faze me one bit.

“Does that upset you? That we’ve found enough common ground to be more than just civil with each other?” she counters with a gentle tone, making it very hard to be upset with her.

“Why would it upset me? Like I said. I just find it curious. Peculiar, even.”

“I’m not sure peculiar is the right word to define our friendship.” She grins sheepishly. “But you’re the wordsmith in our family, not me.”

Gosh darn it.

The woman is good at evading my attempts to get to the bottom of things.

Now I kind of see where I got it from.

“Maybe if I understood how it all came about in the first place, I’d understand it better,” I insist, careful to keep my tone calm.

“Fair enough.” My mom nods. “I guess it happened organically over the last few years. But then again, life has a way of sneaking up on you like that, and what is true one day, doesn’t mean that it will remain so forever. A person’s life is like the seasons of the year. Ever changing. Ever evolving,” she explains, looking deep into my eyes as if searching for something. “In Noah’s case, I believe he finally made peace with his grief and realized that to honor his mother’s memory, that didn’t necessarily mean he had to keep me at arm’s length or even hate me. I think when he managed to let go of his pain on that front, he was able to see the love that had always surrounded him and finally accept me as part of his family. Because that’s what we are. A family who cares for each other and always will. A family who forgives and accepts us for who we are inside.”

I’m unable to hide the hurt in my gaze at how my mother so easily found it in her heart to repair their relationship, when she’s made no attempts to mend ours. But as she continues to stare deep into my eyes, I wonder if her rant about Noah was also directed at me.

If I’m completely honest with myself, today has been the first day where I haven’t kept my guard up around my mother. Maybe it had something to do with us visiting our old haunts on the mainland, or maybe she’s as desperate as I am to reconnect.

“Are you ladies ready?” the store attendee asks, pulling our attention away from each other to focus on my sister. From my peripheral, I don’t miss how my mother’s shoulders sloop a tad, as if disappointed we weren’t given enough time to continue on with our conversation.

But all those lamentful thoughts go out the window when Daisy walks into the room and steps onto the pedestal.

My heart stops.

My mother grabs my hand and gives it a tight squeeze, suffering from the same reaction.

“Daisy,” my mother coos, her eyes watering.

“Too much?” my sister asks, pointing at the small tweaks she made to her dress that somehow managed to make it even more breathtaking.

“No words. I’m speechless. You’re beautiful,” I choke out, feeling my own tears burning at the corner of my eyes.

“Do you…do you think he’ll like it?” she whispers while staring at her own reflection.

“Derrick?” I ask, wiping away my tears. “I’m sure he’ll fall even more in love with you than he already is.”

A shy smile crests her face.

“I still can’t believe it. My baby is getting married.” My mother sobs beside me, unwilling to let my hand go, needing me to keep her from losing it completely.

“Neither can I,” Daisy jokes, her own blue eyes starting to water.

“That boy better treat you right. I won’t be responsible for my actions if he doesn’t,” my mother warns between sobs, her protectiveness shining through.

“I know just the spot to bury his body if he even thinks about not treating our Daisy right,” I pile on, wrapping my arms over my trembling mother’s shoulders as we continue to be in awe of Daisy in her stunning white gown.

“You two have nothing to worry about. Derrick would never dream of hurting me. In all honesty, it’s a wonder he wants to marry me at all after everything I put him through.”

“Love is more powerful than reason, sweet girl. Derrick loves you. And take it from me, when a love is that strong, that pure, it always finds a way,” my mother says, and this time when she gives my hand a squeeze, it feels as if those words were meant for me as much as they were directed at my sister.

I hold onto my mother’s hand and don’t let her go, as her words begin to sink in down into dark corners of my soul that I’ve desperately tried to stay clear from.

After a day spent on the mainland, I’m actually happy to be back in my old room, writing up a storm. After the wonderful drama-free day the women of this family shared, inspiration kicked in, bringing me back to those first few days when Daisy and I suspected Mom had met the love of her life.

How ironic that it took one wedding to initially bring me to Thatcher’s Bay and another for me to return to it?

I’m mid chapter when the sound of loud music coming from downstairs starts trickling into my room, my mother’s laugh ringing out just as loudly.

Curious to see what’s going on, I close my laptop and walk downstairs, immediately shocked at what I find.

“What is going on here?” I laugh, watching my mother and Curt dance like lunatics to Otis Redding’s ‘Try a Little Tenderness.’

“It started with your mom offering to help my dad practice his father/daughter dance for Daisy’s wedding, but as you can see, things have gotten a little out of hand,” Noah chuckles.

“Yes. I can see that.” I giggle as the pair continue to dance.

“Don’t knock it until you try it, kid.” Curt gives me a wink, twirling my mom in a full circle. “Your mom and I used to love going out dancing when we first started dating. I think it might have been my dancing that made her fall in love with me.”

“Your two left feet had no influence on the matter. But making me laugh did help you along,” my mother teases.

Watching them dance away like no one is watching is nauseatingly sweet.

“Well don’t just stand there, you two! Join us.” My mom giggles as Curt tries to dip her.

“What do you say?” Noah extends his hand out to me. “Want to teach them how it’s really done?”

With both our parents staring at us, I’m unable to turn his offer down. It might be naïve on my part, but the time I spent with my mother earlier today has left me in such high spirits, not even Noah Fontaine could ruin it. Watching her smile ear to ear, as she waits expectantly for us to join her and Curt on the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living room, is the reason why I place my hand in Noah’s, letting him lead the way.

But then Noah does the darndest thing.

Once we’re standing right beside our parents, he lets go of my hand and breaks into a goofy dance, mimicking his father’s.

“Please tell me you guys aren’t going to dance like that at the wedding?” I giggle, watching father and son cut a rug in the most dad-like way possible.

“What? Don’t you like our moves?” Noah jokes, shimmying his shoulders next to his father’s.

“Atta boy, son. Show Sky how it’s done.” Curt laughs, coaxing his son to do his worst.

“You two are idiots.” I laugh as they both pretend to do the running man.

“No one can say the Fontaine family won’t be the life of the party on Daisy’s big day,” my mother chimes in, pinching the bridge of her nose and wiggling to the floor.

It’s official.

My family is bonkers.

I laugh away as she pulls me to mimic her dance moves in tandem with Curt’s and Noah’s. I’m laughing so hard my stomach hurts. Curt and Mom belt out the chorus of the song, urging Noah and I to do the same. Before I know it, we’re all dancing like crazy people, belting out the lyrics louder than Otis himself.

Once the song ends, we’re all on the floor, laughing away at our childish antics.

“You all have to promise me you will not dance like that at Daisy’s wedding.” I point to the three of them, panting for breath brought on from laughing so hard.

“No promises, kid. Besides, those stuck up Monroes need a little flavor to their parties,” my stepfather retorts. “Isn’t that right, son?” he adds, ruffling the top of Noah’s hair.

“Sky… is… right,” my mother stutters, still trying to catch her breath. “We don’t want to be cause for embarrassment to Daisy.”

“We all know Daisy doesn’t embarrass easily,” Noah adds his two cents. “That girl is made of Teflon.”

“True,” Curt snickers proudly. “But Clara is right. We should at least try, for Daisy’s sake. One song at least. Help me up, son,” Curt asks Noah, stretching his arms for him to take.

My forehead wrinkles at how Curt needs Noah to help him back on his feet.

“Are you okay?” I ask worriedly.

“I’m fine.” Curt smiles. “Just an old back injury that comes up every so often. It’s the price of getting older. Your mind might still be as quick as a whip, but your sore bones and limbs aren’t as forgiving.”

“Maybe we should rest?” my mother says, concerned.

“None of that. I need to make sure I give Daisy the best father/daughter dance she could possibly wish for.”

I see it in his eyes that he means it.

It’s an honor that he wants to do justice to. He knows that Daisy could have easily asked Grant to walk her down the aisle and have this dance. But then again, Grant has never been my sister’s favorite person, so I wasn’t surprised she didn’t even invite him to attend, much less hold the honors the father of the bride should have.

When I asked Daisy if she wanted me to at least call him up and ask him to come, her answer was a strong clipped no.

“He wasn’t there for me in my worst times. Why should he get to celebrate my best ones?”

And that was the end of that discussion.

I can’t say the same though.

Grant stepped up when I needed him to. It was only that one time, but I’ll be forever in his debt regardless.

My mother then chooses a slow song from their playlist, and they begin to sway along to it. Taking a cue from our parents, and before I’m able to stop him, Noah places my arms around his neck and snakes his arms around my waist. I tongue my cheek as we sway left to right, glancing over to Curt and Mom every so often, seeing that they are now deep in their loving bubble, completely oblivious to anyone around them.

Even after fifteen years of marriage, they are still as in love as they were in the beginning.

Love always finds a way.

My mother’s words come back to me now, and as I take them in, I realize how easy it is for my mother to believe in such a thing. After all they had to endure, after a failed first marriage and the death of a first love, fate would still be kind to them and give them one more shot at true love.

But what if my shot already happened?

What if the love my mother was talking about already happened to me and it slipped through my fingers?

In a blink of an eye, I not only lost the one person I loved most in this world, but myself too.

“What are you thinking about?” Noah asks hoarsely, searching my eyes.

You.

“Nothing,” I mumble instead of telling him the truth.

“Liar,” he accuses, his hold tightening around me.

I lift my chin up and hold his gaze with mine.

“Takes one to know one, doesn’t it?”

His ocean blue eyes dim with sadness, coaxing my own to come forth in thunderous waves. I swallow dryly and turn my head to the side, only for Noah to gently push it to nestle against his chest. I’m about to push myself off him, but then catch my mother glancing over at us, a tender smile stretched on her lips, unknowingly forcing me to stay exactly where I am.

“I deserved that,” Noah whispers pained in my ear. “Fuck, I more than deserve that.”

All I can do is nod, feeling as if my heart might leap out of my throat if he forces me to say even one word. I let him run his fingers through my hair, my breathing starting to come out in spurts with how gentle he’s being with me.

But still, I don’t push away.

Instead, I continue to dance with him. I try to focus on the sweet melody of the song, but all I can hear is the drumming of our synced heartbeats—Noah’s and mine.

A lapse in judgment has me gripping onto his neck tighter, loving how his long wild hair brushes up against the back of my hands.

“You let it grow out again,” I hear myself whisper as if my heart has decided it needs a turn to do the talking now.

“Hmm.”

It takes three heartbeats for me to ask, “Why?”

His shoulders sag, and I hear him take in a deep breath, as if he’s trying to summon up the courage to tell me the truth.

“You know why.”

My eyelids close on their own accord as I hear the truth in his confession, making the pang in my heart hurt that much more. Not happy with the turmoil he’s induced with those three little words, he kills me with his next ones.

Noah lifts my chin with his knuckles, gently coaxing me to look him in the eye.

“I’ve missed you.”

It’s in this instant that I gain the strength to pull away, turn my back, and leave the room.

Because if I had stayed, I’d have to admit to him how much I missed him too.

How I’ll probably never stop.