“Are you sure no one will come down here?” he asked. It was Jerry. My Jerry. But his tone wasn’t as gentle as it usually was with me. It was urgent, harsh.
“Relax, love. Everyone’s upstairs finding their seats. The ‘princess’ is probably touching up her makeup in the bridal suite,” a female voice replied. A voice that sent a chill down my spine. It wasn’t a stranger. It was clear, unmistakable. It was Vanessa, my best friend, my maid of honor, the woman who had helped me choose the dress I was wearing.
My heart stopped for a second, then started pounding with a force that hurt. What were those two doing here, in the basement women’s restroom, minutes before the ceremony? A naive part of my brain wanted to believe I was surprising her, giving her a gift, or maybe rehearsing a speech. But the tone of their voices, the electricity in the air I could almost feel through the wooden door, screamed something very different.
“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Jerry said, and I heard the unmistakable sound of a kiss. Not a chaste kiss, but a wet, desperate one.