I Do

Chapter 25

Picking a dedication this week was like picking my favorite boy in One Direction. I'd just like to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who voted or commented. Oh my gosh, I'm rereading these comments and I just can't choose... but I have to give it to... @gelijoy because every single one of her comments was so sweet and unbelievably meaningful. PLEASE KEEP UP WITH THESE COMMENTS. YOU DON'T EVEN UNDERSTAND HOW AMAZING YOU ALL ARE.

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Chapter 25 *Wedding in: 5m 19d*

-Hallie-

Life doesn't follow a set of rules, doesn't fit into a specific mold, doesn't travel along one path. From birth to death, each individual life is a series of unexpected twists and turns. Challenges. Hopes. Fears. Love. Some people believe in destiny, that our futures are preset, preplanned, and we're all just wandering along, bumbling and confused. And then there are others, those who believe that our decisions control our lives, and the future is the product of how we live.

I suppose I'd like to believe both. If only it were God's purpose for Harry to be mine. If only all these struggles had been preset, so that one day Harry might end up with the one... and that might be me. And then, a different, more independent part of me wishes that I could solve everything. That, with strength and courage, I could convince the love of my life to return my feelings.

And yet, neither cases seem to be an option.

Spending time with Harry was remarkably uplifting, and I can't deny that. While lying next to him on the car hood under an endlessly starry sky, I spotted a glimmer of hope on the distant horizon. Now, though, as I'm sprawled across my properly-made bed, stuffing my stomach with pizza and allowing secrets to spurt from between my slight chapped lips, my heart is broken once again. Because I'm painfully aware that, at this very moment, Harry is treating Arabella to an enchanting evening to relive their first date, an evening she won't enjoy in the slightest, but one I would kill for.

"What really sucks is that Harry'll never know just how much I love him," I confess, mumbling through a thick slice of gooey cheese and crispy crust.

A trail of hot, rejuvenating tea dribbles down Sara-Marie's chin as she attempts to process the information. "Love?" she shrieks, dabbing at the spilled liquid with a powder-blue scarf. "I thought this was some sort of cute, baby little crush. I had no idea you loved him."

"Well, I do," I retort, heat creeping onto my face. If love is warm frantically pulsing through your veins at the mere sight of a smile, I love him. If love is willingly sacrificing anything so that the brilliant gleam in his eyes will never fade, I love him. If love is undying hope, the erratic beating of your heart, and an unexplainable joy in his presence, I love him. Deeply, madly, irrevocably, and unrequitedly, I love him.

SM's smile is tender and comforting as she tilts her head in pity. "So, just to sum things up, Arabella doesn't really love Harry, except for his fame. He's proposed, because he's infatuated with her, and neither you or the other boys approve. And now, you're sabotaging their relationship, partially because you honestly and completely love him."

"Erm, exactly."

Running one hand through her rippling dark-blonde waves, her body shudders with badly contained laughter. "You're living a chick flick," she sputters, snorting into the palm of her hand.

"Thanks, SM, that really puts everything into perspective," I reply dryly. Despite myself, I can't help but crack a smile at her merriment. While Ara's snark insults are cleverly disguised as jokes, Sara-Marie's teasing is kind, lighthearted banter. I've known Ar for six years now, but SM and I have so much less tension between each other. I don't feel the incessant need to impress her. There's no competition, no humiliation, no heartbreak. And it's nice, to feel like I have a friend again.