April's Heart

The Photographer

She wanted to say those things but all the emotions she'd been keeping inside couldn't find a voice.  It was  too late.  It  didn't even matter anymore.  None of  it mattered.  This man before her who once held her heart in her hand and crushed it without a second thought, no longer had any power to hurt her. 

"I'm not interested," she said, smiling. Finally, the elevator reached her floor and April blew past Kenny and into the hall. She turned back to see him staring at her, slack jawed.  Again she smiled as she turned from the elevator and walked towards her hotel room. 

He must be here for the wedding, April thought as she wandered the halls of the hotel.  She could imagine Kenny being friends with the bride.  She was demanding and rude and mean.  Everything he was apparently looking or in a woman.  Maybe he's the groom, she mused as she found her room. She pressed the keycard to the lock and stepped into the most magnificent suite she had ever seen, in person or otherwise. This was the room they booked for the photographer? These people obviously had more money than they knew what to do with. April wondered a few times since she had booked the gig why the couple had chosen her. There were hundreds of photographers in the city they had to choose from and by the looks of it they weren't worried about the cost. Oh, well, she thought. I'm here. It doesn't really matter how I got here.

April's dress was hanging on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. It was a gorgeous peach gown that went perfectly with her caramel skin tone. The bride, in one of their last meetings, asked if she had a dress for the affair. April shrugged, not really worried about what she was going to wear. The bride huffed and asked what size she was.

"Oh that's perfect," she gushed. "14 is my before size. I have plenty of dresses for you to choose from. And whichever one you want you can keep, I'll never be that big again."

The planner looked at April like she was ready to stop her from jumping across the table at the bride, but April just smiled and thanked her for her kindness, while in her mind cursing her and her stupid perfect body. I hope she gets up to a 16, she thought.

April had to admit, it was a beautiful dress. She had planned on ripping it up for cleaning rags but as she stepped into it, the fabric felt so nice on her skin she thought it would be a shame to waste it. The bride had probably only worn it once anyway. She pulled her hair up into a high bun, allowing a few curls to cascade down her long neck. Standing at the mirror she hardly recognized the reflection in front of her. For the past year, her wardrobe had consisted mainly of sweat suits and pajamas. Seeing herself like this helped her remember she was a woman. That and the way Jae had looked at her that morning.  No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep him out of her head. 

Three quick knocks on the door snapped her out of her fond morning memories and back to her somewhat less than glamorous but getting more glamorous by the minute reality. She rushed over and opened it, not wanting to keep the bride and the planner waiting but, to her surprise, Kenny stood on the other side of the door. He gasped when he saw her, covering his mouth with his free hand. In his other hand, he held a bouquet of flowers.

"You look amazing. These are for you."

April took the flowers and sniffed them, knowing it was killing Kenny to just stand in the hall while waiting for her to react to his presence.  Really, she had  no reaction. It was strange.  Her heart didn't ache, her mind wasn't racing with scathing words to spit at him.  All she felt was relief.  If she thought the elevator was a fluke she now had proof that she was over Kenny Mitchell. 

"Can I come in?"

April stood aside and a shocked Kenny walked past her and into the room. He turned to her after she closed the door, a pained expression distorting his handsome features.

"What did you want to say?" She asked coolly. 

Kenny tried to smile, but the corners of his lips instead turned downward as he began to cry.

"I made a mistake," he said.

April wanted to remain stoic and dismiss his emotion as a ploy to get her to listen to him but his tears weakened the ice around her heart.  She had never known Kenny to cry.  Perhaps in the past year he had learned to weep on command but April could tell that his emotion was genuine. 

"Sit down," she said, gently guiding him to a sofa next to a large window. Outside the sun was beginning to set. April knew she didn't have much time before the bride and the planner came to get her. He sat down and she sat beside him for the first time in a year. It felt nice in a way but again she remembered Jae and how he nervously sipped his coffee that morning. She smiled, despite herself. Luckily, Kenny was too busy wiping his nose to notice.

"I know you don't have a lot of time and I have so much to tell you. I guess what I need you to know the most is...I didn't cheat on you."

"What?"

April leaned back, completely taken off guard. What did he mean he didn't cheat on her? Of course he did, that's why she had spent so much time hating him. He cheated and left her.

"If you didn't cheat on me then why did John say you did, and why did you leave?"

Kenny opened his mouth to answer when the door burst open and the planner and bride rushed in.

"Kenny," the bride shouted, "John is looking all over for you. You were supposed to be in the courtyard 15 minutes ago. Don't ruin this for me!"

"Ok," Kenny said, standing. "I'm sorry. I'll go right out. It'll be ok, Janice."

April watched him as he ran out the door looking back to see her one last time before he was out of sight. April's mind was swimming and the bride and planner weren't helping by shouting hurried instructions at her. Luckily she was a professional and was able to absorb the information while simultaneously being completely confused by what Kenny said. How could he have not cheated on her? Was her year of hating him wasted, was her anger misplaced? She had to talk to him but first, she had a wedding to photograph.