Short Story Collection

A Missed Chance

I saw this as a writing prompt on Instagram so I thought I'd give it a try. Here's what came out of it!

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He looked so happy.

She couldn't recall the last time she had ever seen him look so happy. Maybe on their graduation day or maybe on the day he bought his first car. His dark brown eyes were alive with excitement and pure happiness as he twirled her around, her wedding gown flying gracefully. She watched the pair, and with every touch, every warm and loving smile they shared, she felt another part of her heart crack. They were a beautiful pair — the picture of perfection. His eyes complimented her smile and he looked at her with simple adoration. He's never once looked at me like that. The thought came unbidden and sudden and she dug her nails into her palm. She hadn't wanted to come; when the invitation had come in the mail her breath had caught and her heart had dropped into her stomach. She had known, of course, that they were together but she had not prepared herself for their marriage. It seemed that her mind had convinced her that he would never get married, but she had been a fool to think so.

"You must come." He had told her over the phone, that night. "I can't get married without my best friend being there."

And, despite her own heartbreak and despair, she had agreed. Of course, she could have never said no. What excuse could she ever possibly give him? Now she sat, in her dress that she had bought just for the occasion, trying not to look as heartbroken as she felt. They had been best friends for as long as she could remember; she had watched him lose all traces of childhood and turn into a man. He had always been the light of her life. She had been in love with him since the tender age of seven years old but she had never dared to tell him. She watched him grow up and fall in love with other girls and get his heart broken time and time again. He had always given away his heart so easily — his mother had always said so. But she was always there to pick up the pieces when he fell apart.

"What would I do without you?" He had told her on the night of their prom, ten years ago, when his date had bailed on him. They had ended up going together, after that, and the memory stung hard as she now watched him dance with his now wife. He twirled her around again and then held her body close to his own; the sight made her feel numb. That was supposed to be me. The words rose up in her mind and she bit down on her lip. She had been doing that all day; as they had said "I do" to one another, as they had cut their wedding cake and even as she had given a speech. That had been the worst part of the whole day. She had spoken about how long she and him had known one another and had recalled funny stories from their childhood. He had laughed along at the stories and had hugged her tightly when she inevitably began to cry. Of course, he thought she had been crying out of her happiness for him. She felt so selfish even admitting to herself that she was crying for what they could have had.

But he never saw her like that; not even when she had finally matured in her later teenage years and became a woman. Not even when they both entered adulthood and people asked if they were a couple. They often were mistaken for a couple, and when it happened, he would only laugh it off and shake his head. Her mother had always said that they were meant to be. They were, weren't they? They had known each other their whole lives. She watched as he pushed his brown hair out of his eyes and then she suddenly saw him as a little seven year old boy, chasing after her in his backyard. He had always been her protector — had defended her against anyone who dared to speak badly of her. When they had entered high school, he had become a part of the popular clique but she had not. He had always burned so brightly; he could capture the attention of every person in the room. She had never been like that. Yet, they remained just as close as they always had in their high school years. They had even attended the same college and that was when she had gotten her first real boyfriend.

"If he ever does you wrong, I swear I will kill him." He had told her. Her heart had soared at his words and for a moment, she had hope. Hope that maybe he cared for her the way she had always wished him to. But he hadn't. Her relationship hadn't lasted long — none of them, even now, ever worked out. She watched with wide eyes as he danced gracefully with his wife; she recalled when they had begun dating in college. "She's the most beautiful girl I've ever met. I asked her out for coffee this Friday." She had been standing in her dorm and he had come barrelling in just to tell her. The pain of it still came back to her even now, as she watched them dance together almost ten years later. Would it ever stop hurting? He had been her one and only love. She had never felt anything even close for anyone else. And now here he was, at his wedding reception, having his first dance with another woman.

How had this happened? How had she allowed him to just slip through her fingers? I should have told him. Even though she knew he did not feel the same way about her, she should have told him. She had kept her feelings a secret from him for twenty years and she had now missed her chance. The crowd tittered and she was snapped out of her reverie as he dipped her and pressed his lips to hers. It was the final blow; she felt her heart snap and suddenly she was standing up and walking. She did not know where she was going — her vision blurry with tears. She hurried out of the lavish hall and walked onto the balcony, the cold air hitting her like a ton of bricks. Her hands gripped the railing tightly, causing her knuckles to go white, as tears streamed down her face. She felt as if she could barely breathe; the feelings that she had suppressed all day came pouring out of her like a waterfall. Sobs wracked her body and she had to grip the railing even harder to stop herself from collapsing.

When she had finally calmed down, she turned around and peered through the glass doors of the balcony. He was now standing with her, posing for pictures. He looked so happy. So happy with a woman who was not her. His brown eyes were soft and alive and she recalled him having that same look when he had first met his now wife. It's always been her. Never me. Her heart sank as she looked at him, more tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

I missed my chance.