Sylvie's Getting Married

A Sapphic Short Story

Found on Pinterest

Sylvie’s getting married and it’s not with me. With a forced smile, I rush into the church through a crowd of her loved ones. Catching my breath when I make it to the dressing room. 

“Knock knock,” I say, before walking in.

“Nelly?” Sylvie yells.

“The one and only!”

 “Thank God! Come in.” She opens the door, holding the corset of her white wedding dress to her chest. “I was worried you were going to be late.” 

“On your big day? I could never.”

Sylvie frantically turns around, her bare back facing me. “Tie me up, please.”

 I grab the strings of her corset. “Alright, hold your breath.” 

After tightening, Sylvie’s dress accentuates her curves.

“Can you believe it?” She plants her hands on her waist, and twirls in front of the mirror before facing herself with a radiating smile. 

“Of course I do,” I say, hugging her from behind. Her body fits perfectly with mine. “Remember when we were just kids, and I would play the groom, and you, the bride?”

“Oh my God. Yes. You’ll always be my favorite husband.”

Her words pierce my chest, and I clear the lump in my throat. “It’s always been a dream of yours,” I say, trying to fight my smile fading.

“Nelly, I’m really getting married.” She wraps her arms on top of mine. Soft and warm. “Wyatt’s a good man, isn’t he?”

The truth of how I really feel sits on the tip of my tongue. “He really is.” 

A foreign jealousy burns through my stomach. Nausea travels up my esophagus. I should be overjoyed that my bestfriend is getting married. Yet, it feels like I’m losing her. It didn’t bother me when she started dating Wyatt, but over the last few weeks leading up to the wedding, I’ve been losing sleep. Having dreams that Sylvie is meant to be with me. 

Fuck. I’m in love with my best friend. 

***

I hold the sunflower bouquet against my chest, and link my arm with Wyatt’s best man. A romantic symphony plays as the double doors open. My heart sinks to see Sylvie’s husband-to-be at the end of the aisle. A part of me fills with guilt to wish that he’d have cold feet. But how could he? Sylvie’s the most loving human being I’ve ever met. 

The church is filled with friends and family, and they all twist their necks to watch us. We stand along the altar as practiced at the wedding rehearsal. My eyes sting with tears threatening to build up, and I curl my lips into a proud smile. Only I know that these tears aren’t happy. Yellow lights burn into my skin, as I patiently wait for Sylvie to walk down the aisle with her father. 

After a while, the music ceases. Beads of sweat drip from Wyatt’s temple. His wrist twitches as he checks the time on his watch. I clear my throat and it cuts the silence. 

“I’m going to check on Sylvie,” I whisper to him.

Wyatt nods, loosening his tie and collar. 

I hurry to the dressing room. 

Her father waits by the door. His face perks up when he sees me. “I was about to get you. Sylvie’s been asking for you.” 

“Everything okay?”

“I don’t know. She won’t open the door.” He knocks on the door. “Honey, Nelly is here.”

The door cracks open. Sylvie sniffles. “Just Nelly please.”

I slip into the room. Sylvie sits on the couch. Patting down her tears with a white napkin, trying not to ruin her makeup. 

“Hey, hey,” I whisper, sliding next to her. “What’s going on?”

Sylvie catches her breath. “What if Wyatt’s not the one?”

I wish I had an answer. But I don’t. We sit in a short silence. She leans her head on my shoulder and I rub her sweaty back. What I really want to say is that I’m the one. But I don’t. I can’t. 

“What makes you say that?” I ask.

“Everything seems too perfect.” Sylvie sits up. “Like a dream come true.”

“It is. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted.” My heart grows heavy. “I have no doubt in my mind that Wyatt won’t treat you right. That man would do anything for you.”

“He really does love me, doesn’t he?”

“Who couldn’t? And if worst comes to worst, you know I’ll always be by your side.”

Sylvie sighs. She gives me a tight embrace, and I hold her tighter. We both take a deep breath, and her coconut scent fills my lungs. 

I pull back from her embrace and hold her hands. “If you love him, marry him. If not, my car is right outside, ready for the grand escape.” I chuckle. 

She flickers a smile. Briefly gripping my hands. Tears now dry. “How’s my makeup?”

“Perfect, as always.” I stand, offering her my hand and she takes it. “Your man is waiting.”

I lead her out of the dressing room, and hand her over to her father. “See you down the aisle.”

As I walk away from them, I can’t breathe. My lips tremble, but I tighten them into a smile. Before I rush back down the aisle, I shake off my true desires. Once I make it to the altar, I gesture to the pianist to restart the symphony.

“Everything okay?” Wyatt whispers.

I nod with a smile. 

The double doors open. Sylvie stands with her arm linked to her father. She radiates with a broad smile when her eyes lock onto Wyatt. His fill with tears of unspeakable joy. Her father’s eyes become glossy with tears as he hands his daughter off to her soon-to-be husband. 

I fight the temptation to be selfish. To proclaim my love for her. But the way she gazes at him, soft and endearing, repels me. She has never looked at me in that way. So, who am I to object to their love, when I have no ground to stand on?

I loved her too late.