of faded off in a squeak.
Will’s face was twisted in a harsh frown. “Without even leaving a note?” He crossed the room and grabbed the cordless phone from his base on a side table. He quickly dialed his daughter’s cell phone number.
Marian and Darius stood patiently, although Darius was feeling anything but patient. His earlier concern had deepened to an almost terrifying fear.
“Where the hell are you?” Will Donovan growled into the phone. “Call home as soon as you get this message, young lady!” He slammed the phone down on the base and flopped down in the chair next to the table. “Sorry, Darius. I don’t know what’s gotten into that girl lately. This is the third time she’s done this in the past couple of weeks.”
“Will!” Marian hissed.
He rolled his eyes at his wife and continued, unintimidated. “The man has a right to know, Marian.”
Marian crossed to stand between her husband and Darius. “It’s just regular wedding jitters, Darius. Everybody has them. I’m sure you’re nervous in your own way, as well.”
Darius tried to force a smile. “Yes, ma’am. I’m a little nervous. I’m going to head home.” He turned toward the front door, then paused and looked over his shoulder. “Could you call me and let me know when she makes it in? Just so I know she’s okay.”
Will simply nodded and Marian called out, “Of course we’ll call you. I’m sure she’s just out with some girlfriends.”
Or another man, Darius thought. But the worried expressions on both her parents’ face let him know he was not the only one thinking it.
Just before five, Darius was awakened by a phone call from a tired-sounding Marian announcing that Liz had finally made it home.
“Can I speak to her?” he asked.
“Um, Darius, maybe now is not a good time. She just had a big argument with her father and I just don’t think she’s…”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
“Maybe you should just give her some time to herself. I really think she’s just nervous about Saturday.”
“Yeah, that’s probably it.”
“Okay, then, we’ll see you at the church on Saturday.”
But as he hung up the phone and laid back down, Darius realized he did not understand. Somehow, his well-planned-out life was becoming complicated; things were changing, and he did not understand at all.
Two days later, dressed in his sage-and-black tuxedo, Darius knocked on the door to the dressing room in the back of the church, and felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Liz? You in there?”
In the distance he could hear a piano solo of Jeffrey Osborne’s “On the Wings of Love” coming from the sanctuary. One of Liz’s friends, a bridesmaid, Kelly, hurried toward him down the hall, her sage-green gown lifted to her knees revealing white stockings with a severe tear down the left leg.
As she reached him, Darius asked, “Have you seen Liz this morning?”
She seemed distressed as she bobbed her head, the flowers threaded through her blond tresses weaving precariously. “Yes, about an hour ago.” She gestured to the closed door. “She should still be in there. I was just coming to see if she had any extra stockings.” She extended her leg. “Mine are ruined.”
He knocked on the door again. “Liz?” He cracked the door a bit and the first thing he saw was Marian Donovan reflected in the full-length standing mirror on the other side of the room. She was reading something.
“Mrs. Donovan? Is Liz here?”
Marian Donovan swung around with a terrified expression on her face. “What? Oh, no, no—she’s not.” She rushed across the room to them. “Kelly, would you be a dear and go find my husband?”
Kelly’s wide blue eyes looked nervously between Darius and Marian, and then she hurried away to find Will Donovan.
With a loud swallow, Marian finally looked directly at Darius. “Darius, come in here. We…we need to talk.”
Darius started into the room on shaky legs. He knew. With absolute certainty he knew what he was about to be told.
Marian closed the door and handed him the note. “I found this a few minutes ago.”
With clumsy fingers he unfolded the note and quickly scanned the scrawled writing.
Darius,
As much as it pains me to tell you in this manner, I cannot in good conscience go through with our wedding. I’m in love with someone else. I’m so sorry to hurt you this way, but to marry you would mean being untrue to my own heart…
He heard the door behind him burst open and Will Donovan’s blustery voice in some kind of deep discussion or argument with his wife, Darius couldn’t focus his mind enough to tell. Nor, did he care. He felt like he was in a fog, an agonizing, torturous fog.
He could hear others pouring into the room, his own parents’ voices were mingled with the rest. But he was trying to see through the newly formed tears in his eyes to read the rest of the letter.
I hope you believe me when I tell you that I wish you only the best life has to offer and I hope, I truly hope that one day you can forgive us. I do love you, Darius, in my own way. But I have discovered too late that the love I feel for you is more that of a brother for a sister and not the deep emotional attachment I feel now.
Someone was sobbing, no…a couple of someones. And he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Please don’t look for me, go on with your life and find the happiness you deserve. And tell my parents I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt them, either. Liz
Darius slowly folded the note closed exactly as he’d received it and turned to face the family and friends crowded into the small room.
His mother pushed her way forward and took his face between her hands. “Darius? Are you okay, baby?”
He nodded and closed his eyes tightly to hold back the tears. Not here. Not now.
Carol North hugged her eldest son to her, and then said, “I’ll get your brother to drive you home.” She looked around, but it was impossible to see anything in the mass of chattering people. “Darren! Darren where are you?”
No answer came for several seconds, so she turned to her husband, Jimmy, who’d worked his way to his son’s side. “You know where Darren is?”
He shook his head. “Has anyone seen Darren?” He called over the crowd, but the incessant chatter continued and no one offered an answer.
Feeling his chest heave, Darius unfolded the note and reread ten words that were now taking on a new meaning. “I truly hope that one day you can forgive us.”
Us.
Us?
Darius
