Annie

Chapter Three

The stomp of my feet crunched the dirt on the concrete sidewalk under my runners as a rush of adrenaline surged through me. My whole body broke into a sweat and the shirt I wore stuck to me like a second skin as cold salty sea breeze whipped through my hair, bringing a sticky yet soothing sensation.

Dodging the occasional ice-cream vendors and chatty friends, I ran along the moderately calm sea and looming concrete towers while loud rock music—thumping from my headsets—muted honking vehicles. I'm not the only one jogging but I don't think the others are here to escape their nosy relatives.

Mom didn't say but she wants the ceremony to end more than me. The first couple of days were fun but visitors came by like the pouring rain, she wants to pull her hair. Our guests offered to help but her ego didn't let them intervene even when she desperately wants someone to take her place. Jessie would have helped mom if she isn't busy running errands with David. But Dad and Lisa, on the other hand, enjoyed the company—he got people to chat and Lisa has play buddies.

We don't get many guests but when we do, it's a country fair.

I stopped jogging and held my waist. My heart pounded against my chest and the loud beating rung in my ears without a stethoscope, and my breath is erratic and urgent. I wiped the sweat on my forehead with my already wet sleeve.

My insides radiated heat like I've burned every living cell. It feels good but my legs spoke otherwise; one more round and they'll retire. Not just my legs, all the muscles in me ached with my every step, begging me to stop and rest till they are pacified. But every spot on the seawall except for one between a group of friends and a couple are occupied—weekend effect.

Two elderly men I passed by looked down my gym shorts adorned legs with a frown. I don't have to listen to their conversation to know it has something to do with my hairy legs. Even men are not spared with the length of their clothes, and there goes our dream for equality.

I lowered my headsets and sat before someone could take my place—I'll colapse on the ground if this spot as well is occupied—the granite top is cold under my sweaty exposed thighs, making a chill run down my spine.

My fitness tracker showed I ran four kilometres. To be honest, I don't care. A good run in a breezy weather helps sort my mind, but sorting out seemed far away now. David's words are still in my ears and truth be told, it wasn't easy thinking about it. Not one conversation caught my attention and I walked out of rooms abruptly. My family thinks it's wedding jitters but little do they know. I tried to think of someone else in her place and every time I did, it didn't feel right. And there is a constant tug that listening to my family is a mistake.

Forgetting her is impossible. I may come around this girl I'm going to marry but there is a what-if after every thought, and decisions like marriage should not be based on doubt.

I opened the only picture I have of her on my phone. She's smiling along with me and we looked happy. Ajay took this photo despite mine and her protest. He argued that we should have a picture and we gave in to get him off our back. At that moment this was supposed to be something to look back on but now its the only memory I have of how she looks, not that I'll ever forget her.

I pinched the screen and the photo zoomed to her face. I smiled at that awkward broad smile. She hates being in photographs, always complained that her face is not photogenic, but all those never made me think she's any less beautiful. Wonder if her husband doesn't have a problem with her photophobia.

The people around me are happy and I'm the only person brooding among the happy crowd—couples talked while holding hands, elderly men at ease and groups of friends mocking one another. Even the waves hitting the shore are happy but I'm stuck in her memories for ten years and no one is to blame but me. I could have moved on, but I kept the pain locked within to drown in misery as that pain is what reminds me she is not a dream I had on an afternoon nap.