What if second chances come a second time?
Long ago, Hannah and Jonah called it quits. Long ago, Hannah stopped trying to make things work, and Jonah let her go. Long ago, Jonah mailed back all of Hannah's stuff from his apartment, and Hannah blocke...
"He's here." Freddie jerks his chin toward the guest's registration table behind me, and I turn around in a rush, almost falling if not for his steady hold on my elbows. "That is him, right? I recognize him from the pictures in your room."
Sure enough, there Jonah Gibbs stands, head bowed as he signs his name in the guest book. My breath stops in my lungs, and my knees almost buckle. He looks up, and for some goddamn reason, his eyes immediately find mine.
Instinctively, I take a step forward in his direction, my legs wobbly on my heeled shoes. Freddie stops me though, before I could stumble and fall on my face.
"Hey, you okay?" he asks, noticing my stilted breath.
"Yeah, I'm just—" my voice catches as my eyes follow Jonah's movement toward me. "I'll just—"
Hesitating, my friend lets my arm go as Jonah inches closer. Then I'm enveloped in the familiar scent of his cologne, even though he hasn't even touched me. The hint of confidence I previously saw in him is gone—he moves almost meekly, uncomfortable in the dark suit he's wearing.
Like magnet, I'm drawn to his every move. I follow his steely gray eyes with mine, watching as he drinks in the sight of me. As he blinks and his eyes flash with so many different emotions, too quick for me to read any of them.
"Hey." He says it so simply like it could erase all the anxiety and the hurt I've been harboring in my chest from his absence.
I say nothing back. My tongue is tied, and my throat is locked. I'm afraid that if I said something, I'd break into a million pieces.
Jonah's jaw works, eyes pained at my silence. He runs a distressed hand through his wavy dark hair. But what can I even say to him? What do I have left, at this point?
He holds up the invitation card I physically mailed him over a month ago. Just days before we stopped talking again.
"I promised I'd come," he says in a small voice. This time, like he acknowledges that it isn't enough.
I swallow my dry throat. "Right."
"Can we talk, Hannah?" he asks, voice pleading, and I feel torn.
I wanted us to talk, so badly. He was the one who shut me out, and I didn't even know why. I don't know if I can do this. Not today, on my brother's wedding day.
A tap on my shoulder makes me flinch, and I look away to find Freddie, gesturing toward the wedding arch at the front. He tells me quietly, "The ceremony's starting soon."
I give him a nod, torn between leaving Jonah and abandoning Freddie. Apparently, my hesitation is visible on my face, enough that Freddie stops me before I could even make my choice.
"Give me a signal if you need a hand. I'll sit at the back." Freddie smiles encouragingly at me, abandoning the reserved seat next to me on the family row to sit next to my brother's high school friends at the back.
I turn back to Jonah, the resigned look on his face melting the ice in my heart.
"We can talk after the ceremony," I tell him. Then I offer him a hand and tilt my head toward the front row. "Shall we?"
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