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Authors: Rachel E. Cagle

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BOOK: Doubting Our Hearts
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Somehow I've managed to make it all the way up to the altar without landing face first with my whirlwind of thoughts. My breathing is a bit erratic, but I chock it up to nerves.

"Who gives the bride away?" The priest asks.

My father replies with a smile, "Her mother and I do." Then he puts my hand in Damon's and turns to sit by my mother.

I give my bouquet to Nora who doesn't look me in the eyes and fight the feelings I have of crying as I turn toward Damon. I'm met with his smile, which for some reason doesn't give me the reassurance I was looking for.

When the priest gets to the objection line, I hold my breath. "If anyone present knows of any reason why this couple should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace."

I look to Damon who now isn't looking at me. I can feel the tears start to pool in my eyes as I hear the words from one voice I'd never thought I would.

"I'm sorry, Lil. I can't watch this."

As I feel Damon's fingers tighten around my own, I pull them free and turn toward my best friend. She looks defeated, and now I know the feeling I thought I saw in her eyes a few minutes ago was none other than guilt.

"I can't let you marry him." Her voice has gotten a little bit louder. But by the collective gasps of our guests and the echoes in the church, it's safe to say my wedding is officially ruined.

"What are you talking about, Nora? You're my best friend."

"I can't lie to you anymore, Lil. I love him."

"What do you mean you love him?"

"I'm in love with Damon." Her head is hung in shame, and that's all it takes for my heart to shatter into little pieces on the floor of the church. I turn to Damon who has positioned himself at my side watching Nora choose her words to say to me.

"Do you love her?" I question.

"Lily...I can explain." He tries to plead. I don't think any amount of explaining or pleading will help him or my
ex
-best friend out of this.

"Answer the damn question, Damon." I grit out as quietly as I can.

His head drops in a sigh then looks up to meet Nora's eyes. "Yes, I love her."

I try to hold on to the last sliver of dignity I have left. The person I considered my sister and the man I loved have completely obliterated my heart and soul. I don't want to feel hatred. I don't want to feel like they did all this to hurt me, but by God, they have just humiliated me in front of my family and friends. This is completely unforgivable.

Reigning in my temper is a lot harder than I thought it would be, but I try to say this to them in the most hushed tone I can. "What you both have done is the most hurtful, disrespectful, and by far most humiliating thing you could have ever done. You waited until the worst possible moment to be honest with me. You both lied to me, and I can never forgive that." But I manage to get that out there before I turn and rush down the aisle back into the room I got dressed in and lock the door.

I can hear the voices of my parents and siblings trying to get me to open the door. I can't unlock it. I can't let everyone see how broken two of the most important people in my life just made me.

I turn around at the sound of light knocking by a wall.

"Um, hello?"

A hidden door slowly opens and I see Father Collins' concerned face.

"I'm sorry for my outburst, Father, but I can't go back out there."

He walks up to me with sorrow in his eyes. "Lillian, I'm sorry you had to go through that, but you know God has a reason for every choice we make...even if we ourselves can't understand why we make them."

I hug him close and let my tears fall onto his robe. He sits us down and lets me cry as his hands lay calmly on my back. I don't cry for every time Damon told me he loved me or for every laugh Nora and I shared. I cry for me. I cry for myself because I know that what happened today will continue to break me with every passing day.

Once Father Collins sees that I can breathe without crying, he says, "Lillian, I have a way you can get out of the church if you wish. I can call you a cab and it can take you wherever you wish to go."

"I would like that very much, sir." Anything to get away from this nightmare.

"Get dressed and knock on this door when you're ready. I'll let your family know that you have left safely." He paused and tilted my face to his. "Please know Lillian, there are good times and bad ones. They make us who we are. It might not seem like it now, but once you've accepted what others have chosen, you have the choice to let their choices run your life or you can choose to make a new path. I have faith you'll know which one is right for you."

"Thank you, Father." I'm fighting to contain my composure. Rubbing my eyes with the heel of my palm, I can only imagine what I look like.

He retreats behind the door he came in, and I change as quickly as I can. I leave my dress and everything else I don't want in the small room. With my purse in hand, I rap lightly on the hidden door and Father Collins escorts me through some corridors out to the backside of the church.

When I'm safely in the cab, he places the sign of the cross over my forehead and says, "Take care Lillian, and God will always be with you if you need someone to listen."

With a quick thank you, the cab pulls away. I look back to see Father Collins saying a prayer for me as he fades into the scenery.

I tell the driver my address on Bowen Daniel Drive, and with a quick turn, we're in route. I don't know how much time passes before I get to my four story, three bedroom rental I share with my ex-best friend. I can't stand to be in this place let alone in Tampa anymore. I ask the driver to wait for me as I pack a bag. I know I have to be quick or I'll have to see one of the people I can't lay eyes on.

In a decision I might regret later, I pack all my photography equipment, my portfolio, and some needed clothing. I leave a note to have the rest of my things sent to my parents before I head out of the door to load my luggage in the back of the cab.

As I sit in the taxi in my driveway, I contemplate where I should go.

"Ok, where to ma'am?"

The single thought I have in that moment is one city. One city that I know will change my future. One city that I know I can get as much creative inspiration as I can things to do to busy my time. I'm a bit nervous seeing as though I've only visited a few times for photo shoots. However, I know it's the one place where I know he'll be.

"Take me to the airport please. I need a flight to New York."

Chapter 1

Lillian

 

 

 

Do you ever wonder why you chose your profession? Was it when you dressed up for a fashion show with your sister or played doctor with your best friend? Maybe it dawned on you after a personal experience sometime in childhood or in college. Could it have been watching your parents in their careers and you saw how fulfilled it made them? Did a teacher or mentor show you the possibilities your possible career could have? Or was it as simple as throwing a football, hitting a baseball or kicking a soccer ball?

I never wondered why I chose my career. It solidified for me on my sixth birthday. I remember the moment with extreme clarity.

"Wake up my Lily bug," My dad said as he sat next to my fake sleeping form. "Come on sleepy head. Time to get up. Today is a big day."

I threw the covers from my body and screamed, "I know. It's my birthday!" It threw my parents into a fit of laughter and made me grin from ear to ear.

I already knew today was a big day. It was my sixth birthday and my first day of first grade. I've been counting down the days with my parents for the last two weeks to this momentous occasion marking off the days on the calendar with red X's.

But it wasn't about my age that was exciting on this particular day. It was the prospect of going to a new school, making new friends, and going out to dinner with my mom, dad, and baby sister Jenny. However, the best, most special part came after dinner. I knew with utmost certainty that I was going to go to Uniquely Sweets and have free pick of anything I wanted, and I knew exactly what I wanted. A double stacked dark chocolate and raspberry cupcake. I knew I couldn't eat it all, but I sure was going to try.

"I know what you're really excited about Lily, but we have something even better than chocolate today," My mother said sweetly as she leaned down to kiss my forehead.

Better than chocolate? What could've been better than the deliciousness that is chocolate? My interest was surely peaked as I waited to find out what the answer was.

Before I could say anything my father spoke. "Well, I don't know, Helen. Maybe she's not ready for it. She is only six. Maybe we should wait another year...maybe even more."

I was only six but even I could hear the mirth in his voice as he tried to trick me. I looked into his eyes and they were just twinkling with enjoyment.

"Daddy! Stop messin with me! If it's better than chocolate then it must be pretty good." I reposition myself on my knees on my bed in front of my parents and cup my hands in front of me. "Pretty pleeeease can I see it?" I knew my dad was a goner by then. He could never resist me and my pouty face.

He looks between me and my mother. "Ok." Acting like he just fought a battle with himself to relent to giving me my birthday present.

"Yay!" I yelled jumping into his arms. I pull back and bombarded him with my twenty questions. "Is it a puppy or a kitty? I've always wanted a pet. Wait, is it a ferret or a fish? Can I pick out the name?" I stop and look at my dad laughing so hard he's shaking me. "What's so funny? Don't say you got me clothes. Daddy, clothes are boring." I say with a frown.

He places me back on the bed as my mother hands me the most perfectly wrapped pink and silver box. It's square and definitely smaller than a pet box but bigger than a softball.

"Go on Miss Impatient, open it,” My mother says urging me to end my suspenseful tirade.

I waste no time in pulling open the ribbon and ripping open the paper. When I lift the lid of the box, I pulled out an oddly-shaped, black, square looking object from its hiding spot underneath the tissue paper.

"Um, how is this better than chocolate, daddy?"

Taking the object from my hands, he flips the top half up so it shows off the light in the top half and the circular lens in the bottom half. Still not really understanding with my six year old mind, I look at him with a weird face and shrug my shoulders.

My mom puts me out of my misery as she explains what's in front of me. "Sweetheart, this is a Polaroid camera. You can take pictures, and they develop instantly." She turns the camera so the back is facing me. "Look through this hole, aim at what you want to capture, and press this button here on the side."

I look through the camera to test out my mom's instructions, and I'm about to press the button when she says, "Wait. Try taking a picture of me and your daddy."

"Okay." I say as I look through the lens. They still seemed too far away from each other. "Daddy get closer and put your arm around mommy." He does as I ask before I cock my head slightly and give more direction. "Mommy, lean your head against daddy's." I take another look, but it still isn't right yet. I take the camera away from my face and look at my parents. "You have to smile you know."

They start to giggle and my dad asked, "We can't do that until you say 'Say Cheese' right?"

"No. Just smile and be happy." And that's exactly what they did.

I snapped their picture and a small square piece of film came out the front of the camera that looked kind of milky. As I watched intently, the picture I just took started to miraculously appear before my eyes. My dad's eyes and both my parent's bright smiles. But what I saw next was more than the curves of my mother cheeks or my dad's straight white teeth gleaming from his smile. I saw complete happiness.

My father lightly tickled my mother so she shifted slightly and her forehead was resting on my dad's temple. He was hugging her close as her smile was mere millimeters away from my dad's cheek. Her eyes were closed, but my dad's were so clear and full of love.

My dad leaned over to see the picture I'd just taken of the two of them, and he said, "Look, Helen, she's a natural."

I knew for sure in that moment staring at the first picture I've ever taken I wanted to be a photographer. I never wanted anything so badly, and the present by far trumped chocolate that day.

The rest of my birthday and years following I took what felt like a million pictures a day. My parents had to invest in new cameras as I got older because the Polaroid cartridges were a tad expensive especially the way I was going through them. I starting using rolls and rolls of 110 film with my new Kodak camera, but technology was getting better. So, my parents upgraded to a 35 mm camera, and I had dozens of small black tubes with grey lids all over my room.

To their credit, my parents developed every single roll of film I shot. They would look through them with me as I critiqued and criticized each picture. How far my angle was off or why the lighting was bad. I also figured out where I could improve so I wouldn't have to go through so much film trying to get the right shot. It took years, but I perfected my technique.

By the time I was in high school, I already had some of my photos published in the local paper as well as a few magazines. I was even the go-to girl for senior pictures, which I did earn a little money if I do say so myself. By that time digital was coming out, so instead of printing the pictures, I was able to give out CD's. It was definitely easier, and I was able to get in more shoots with my free time.

When I got my scholarship letter to pursue art at the University of Miami, I was beyond thrilled. I didn't want to live so far away from my parents, but I knew I wanted to experience more than just Jacksonville.

It was my passion for photography that lead me to Miami and to Damon, which has also lead me to heartache and the reason I question why I still do what I do.

It's been three months since my ex-fiancé and ex-best friend told me they were in love with each other. Three months I've had to deal with their texts, phone calls, emails, and their messages through my parents and sisters. Three months of this emotional roller coaster and I'm no closer to the end of the ride than I was yesterday.

When I landed here in New York, I called my dad. I knew him and my mother would be worried until they heard from me, so I did the right thing instead of making them go out of their minds wondering where I could be. After the initial shock wore off of where I actually was, they bombarded me with their questions of why I came here, what was I going to do, and my favorite and still unanswered one, what compelled me to choose New York?

After I left Nora a note, I gathered everything that meant anything to me and left the rest. I wasn't thinking
just jump on a plane and fly to the one city where you know he'll be
. However, all I was sure of was I needed to get as far away from Tampa as fast as I could, and I couldn't shake the feeling of the comfort and solace Brayden gave me with our few short weeks hanging out as friends. So, I made the one decision that changed my life. I moved to New York.

The first few weeks were the hardest. Not only being a new girl in a big unchartered city, I was also alone. More alone than I have ever felt in my entire twenty-five years on this planet.

My fourth day in New York, I found a one bedroom apartment I could rent right next to Bryant Park. It's just over 600 square feet, but it's comparable in price to what I was paying in Tampa. It has sleek modern furnishings and oak hardwoods throughout the living space. The kitchen is white with stainless steel appliances, which is open to the living room and a gorgeous view of the park.

After I signed the lease on my apartment, I spent the next two days locked within its walls. I shut my phone and laptop off not wanting to be disturbed by the shrill sounds of its ringing or the ding alert of a new email. These were the two days I allowed myself to wallow in tears, memories, bonds that were broken, and a future that would never be.

I managed to get out to a store and buy some wine and beer. So my first full weekend in Manhattan I got completely and utterly wasted. I did turn my laptop back on so I could play some music, and I danced to rock songs in my drunken state with my air guitar swinging around my body. Each and every time I tripped and fell that air guitar was right there with me. There was only one song that caused me to start crying, and even in my inebriated haze, it made the images float back into my mind. If I ever hear
Lips of an Angel
again it will be all too soon.

After my drunken stupor weekend, I got my portfolio prepared to show some magazines and a few advertising firms. I'm not anywhere as famous as Ansel Adams, Robert Capa, Anne Leibovitz, or Jay Maisel; however, I am proud to admit I am a descent photographer. My first week in the big city I scored an apartment, and my second week I landed a freelance photography position with GQ magazine. I mean what better way to get over my recent catastrophe than to take pictures of gorgeous men? I mean it's wasn't like I landed the coveted position of doing the cover or anything, but still I was excited my pictures were going to be in GQ.

My enthusiasm about my new job and the prospect of taking professional pictures of celebrities lead me a few blocks from my apartment to Carmine's Italian Restaurant to celebrate with a drink. This is where I met Riley.

"Hey, honey. What can I get you to drink?"

"How about a Moscato and the dessert menu?" I say pleasantly with a smile.

"Coming right up."

After she hands me the menu, it's a toss-up between the strawberry shortcake and the tiramisu. "So, which would you suggest?" I ask as I proceed to tell her where my dilemma lies.

"Well, the tiramisu is one of most requested desserts close to the titanic, but the strawberry shortcake is to die for." She eyes me curiously before leaning over the bar toward me. "Tell me what's on your mind and I'll tell you the better choice for your situation."

I figure why not tell a perfect stranger the brief Cliff Notes to my current situation. No one knows me here anyway. I stick out my hand toward her. "I'm Lillian. It's nice to meet you."

She shakes my hand quickly replying, "It's Riley. Nice to meet you too, Lillian."

"So, two weeks ago my ex best friend objects in the middle of my wedding to tell me she's in love with my fiancé. I flew here on the first plane out of Florida, got an apartment, and just landed a photo gig with a magazine here. So, I guess I'm celebrating."

"Celebrating is a bit of an understatement don't you think? You just went through an atomic bomb and you look fabulous!" She replied. It was something in her eyes and her demeanor that I knew she was a genuinely nice woman. Her sandy blonde hair was tied back in a bun, but I could tell she had pretty blonde locks hidden in that knot. "How about you let me make this a surprise?"

I thought about it for a second then nodded. "You got yourself a deal."

A short time later Riley came back with a sample plate of the shortcake, tiramisu, and the titanic. I looked up to her in surprise. "Riley, you didn't have to ask them to do this. I mean, wow, it's amazing. I'm afraid to mess them up. It's too pretty."

"Nonsense. You needed the trifecta. The tiramisu is for your move to the big apple. The strawberry shortcake is for your new job which sweetens the pot, and the titanic is to help roll over those bad memories."

Her explanation made my heart ache in ways I thought my heart never would. This woman who I met less than an hour ago just said what a best friend would say...something Nora might say. I can feel my tears coming close to breaking through my eyes.

"Thank you, Riley. This is awesome."

"My pleasure." She turned to walk toward the other side of the bar but she came back to me quickly. "You're new so maybe I could show you around. My friends are pretty chill if you wanna go out with us sometime."

BOOK: Doubting Our Hearts
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