LOVE ME AT THIRTY

CHAPTER THREE

SARAH'S POV

“Oops! Looks like I ruined the big surprise!”

The words felt like shards of glass cutting their way out of my throat. I stood there, paralyzed, watching Brian. He looked stunned, his feet rooted to the floor as if the weight of the moment had finally crushed him.

For one beautiful, agonizing second, I let myself believe the look on his face was regret. I imagined him turning to me, grabbing my hands, and telling everyone it was all a cosmic mistake. But then I saw the sweat on his brow, the frantic twitch in his eyes, It wasn't regret, It was the raw, paralyzing anxiety of a man about to leap into a future he had chosen. Just not with me.

I forced my leaden legs to move as I walked up to him and smacked his shoulder with a hollow, booming laugh that echoed the emptiness in my chest. I hugged his side, my fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt one last time.

"You can do it!" I chirped, my voice sounding like a broken flute. "Don't be such a wimp, Brian. You’ve got this!"

He looked down at me, his gaze flickering with confusion or maybe sadness. "I... Sarah, I..."

Our eyes locked, and for a heartbeat, the world went silent. I had never seen him so vulnerable, so utterly terrified and it hurt to realize that I wasn’t the one providing him comfort—I was the one pushing him into the arms of another woman.

Every instinct I had screamed at me to grab him and run, to remind him of the cracked pavement and the pinky promise, Instead, I shoved him. I shoved him away from me and toward Roselyn.

"He can do it! Come on, everyone!" I yelled, my lungs burning. "Chant for him! Make him do it!"

My parents started cheering, their faces glowing with joy. Only Marcus stood still, his eyes darting between Brian, Roselyn, and me with a frown that said he saw right through my theater. I rushed to him, grabbing his arm.

"What are you doing? Chant, Marcus! Join in!"

The room became a deafening roar of encouragement. Roselyn was radiant, her face a map of pure, unadulterated hope. Brian looked at the circle of faces, took a ragged breath, and slowly sank to one knee and the velvet box snapped open.

"I... I never knew a day like this would come," he whispered, his voice thick.

"Where I’d have to face my fears like this. To finally ask." He swallowed hard.

"Roselyn... will you marry me?"

"Say yes! Say yes!" I screamed as I clapped until my palms stung, shouting louder than anyone else to drown out the sound of my soul cracking in half.

‘Please say no’, my heart wailed.

‘Please, for the love of God, say no.’

"Yes, Brian! Yes!" Roselyn cried out.

Brian let out a shaky, hysterical chuckle.

"Really? You say yes?" He sounded like a man who had just been handed a miracle but wanted to reaffirm. Roselyn chuckled as he slid the ring onto her finger, and as he stood, she threw herself into his arms.

He caught her, his hands firm on her waist, and spun her around. He kissed her hair, a gesture so tender it made me want to claw my own eyes out. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes already from immense pain.

Suddenly, a pop of a wine cork punctuated the air, my gaze moved to the sound and saw it was dad popping some champagne to celebrate the moment.

I turned my back, the first sob catching in my throat like a stone. I swiped at my eyes before the tears could fall, spinning back around with a mask of pure sunshine and I almost jolted backwards. Brian was suddenly there, blocking my path.

"Are you crying?" he asked, his voice low and suspicious.

"Tears of joy, you big dummy!" I laughed, the sound jarring and fake. "I'm just so happy someone finally agreed to take a disaster like you off the streets." I slung an arm around his neck, forcing a playful grin.

"You’ve gotta get serious now, Brian. You’re going to be a husband and a father one day." I drawled.

"Husband…Father?" He blinked, looking genuinely lost.

"Duh! Or are you just one of those guys who uses a ring to see what's under a girl's skirt?" He seethed, feeding my anger—my heartache— through my words.

The playfulness vanished from his face instantly. He reached up, firmly removing my arm from his shoulder.

"I'm not that guy, Sarah. I'm going to marry her. In fact, I want to do it in a month. I love Roselyn so much I can't wait a second longer to call her my wife."

The air left my lungs. A month. Fifteen years of waiting, and he was going to erase our future in thirty days.

"Good," I growled, my jaw tight. "That's better." I snarled at his face pushing him backwards slightly.

"Stop bickering! Can you two stop being sr each other's neck everytime?" Mom stepped in, sensing the tension.

“Sarah, you have to treat him with respect now. He's a groom."

Brian stuck his tongue out at me, hiding behind Mom’s shoulder. "Hear that? Respect me."

"In your dreams, loser," I snapped.

Mom sighed as she turned to him, worried. "A month is too fast, Brian, you might want to rethink that."

"It's perfect!" Brian insisted, rushing back to Roselyn and pulling her flush against his side.

"You don't mind, right Rosie?" He asked sweetly and she beamed and shook her head.

"See? It's fine. As long as I have you mom and Pop, and Marcus as my best man..." He turned to me, his eyes hard and challenging. "And my bridesmaid, Sarah, everything will be fine. Right, Sarah?"

I felt the blood drain from my face.

Bridesmaid…it sounded odd to my ear. It sounded pathetic.

I nodded, my neck feeling like it was made of rusted iron. "Right.”

"You see, I told you…I've got all the money to fund, so why can't I?” He boasted.

He was right, we were both filthy rich, besides our family's wealth, so money wasn't an issue.

"Look, I have to go to…the office." They all turned to me, giving me an awkward look as everywhere went silent.

"Really now Sarah, I just proposed and you're already running away" Brian growled.

"Sorry,I've got an urgent project to finish” I mumbled, feeling my throat tighten even more. If I stayed another second, I'd break into a million pieces, right here.

"Emm…don't miss me too much!"

I didn't wait for an answer before bolting for the stairs, my vision blurring into a smear of colors.

I made it into my room and slammed the door, locking it with a trembling hand as I collapsed onto the floor, the first real sob breaking out of me with such force I thought I might be sick.

I curled into a ball, my forehead pressed against the cold wood, crying until my breath came in ragged, painful hiccups.

I crawled toward my nightstand and grabbed the framed photo of us from our 25th birthday. We were laughing, his arm draped over me like he'd never let go. I clutched the glass to my chest, the sharp edges digging into my skin.

I sniffed hard, wiping my tears off as I placed the picture down. It was all over but why does it hurt so much.

I stood up, walking to my desk and pulled the drawer open. I pulled out my diary, sinking into the bed as I swiped the pages, the ink smudging as my tears hit the page.

Dear Diary,

I hit thirty today. I should be celebrating, but I feel like I'm attending my own funeral. The promise is dead. Brian didn't just break it; he stomped on the ashes. He’s getting married in a month, and the girl at the altar won't be me. It was never going to be me. I’ve spent fifteen years loving a ghost, and today, the ghost finally left.”