Never Going to Lose Me

Author's note: This is for the 750 Word Project 2023. I gotta say, it was a switch from my usual 20,000-word behemoths. Psychologically, it's fantastic to just write a slice of life instead of having to plan out a massive plot and re-read a thousand times to eliminate inconsistencies... and then still find inconsistencies after it's published.

"Thanks for letting me hide out in here," Zana huffed, arranging the crinoline and lace of her elaborate white dress as she threw herself into the back of Gareth's limo. He'd spent a year watching her; a year taking in her brilliance and beauty while he shuttled her from place to place, all to lead up to this day when she'd walk down the aisle toward another man.

"Your leg, Zana," he swiveled around from the driver's seat, concern in his voice.

"The accident was a full 14 months ago, Gare," she brushed him off while trying not to sit on her bustle. "I could probably drive this thing myself if I didn't like having you around so much."

"Your future mother-in-law would have my ass," he grinned. "But since you're in here instead of—hey, why are you here? Isn't there some kind of bridal waiting room?"

"The dressing room?" Zana threw herself back onto the seat after she finally found a comfortable position. "You mean sit up there with Bill's mother and sisters criticising my hair, dress, and general upbringing? Sounds thrilling." She paused.

"Tell me you have a joint on you."

Gareth burst out laughing but it wasn't lost on him that this was the kind of thing she often said that had made him fall in love with her over the last 12 months. Of course, she was going to marry Bill Windermere, the scion of his old-money family that ran one racket or another. Gareth never bothered to figure out what, exactly, the man did for work.

'Work' is probably an exaggeration for those people. He thought of his employers, opening his wallet for the millionth time that day to look at Bill's photo.

"You are not going to turn my limo into a hot box," he told Zana half-sternly. Her deep butterscotch locks tumbled down to tickle the saddle-brown skin of her collarbone.

"Ahh, so you do have a joint on you," she grinned. Then her tone softened. "So what if I march down the aisle smelling like weed? It's not like Sandra Windermere doesn't already disapprove of her baby boy choosing a brown girl from the 'hood."

"Hey," Gareth intoned, holding her gaze in his rear-view mirror, "Bill is the luckiest man in the world to have been with you." He cringed at his choice of words, then opened his wallet again to look at Bill's smug face.

"The lot of them would not let it go that I'd be walking myself down the aisle," Zana continued, not noticing his slip. "As if I wanted to lose my dad in college. If they're giving my mom any grief in there, I swear..."

"I'd love to walk you down the aisle," Gareth blurted out before he could check himself.

"What?"

"I... I know your in-laws wouldn't be thrilled about it, but they don't mind me," he stammered. At least this way he could check Bill's face up close. Why'd they insist I do this today of all days, he rued, knowing he'd drown in Zana's dark brown eyes if he dared look into them.

"Are they paying you enough?" Zana asked. "If you want to stay on, I can make like I'm in chronic pain." She reached her fingers toward him. "I would really hate to lose you, Gare."

Gareth's heart melted as he wracked his brain to come up with some way to keep Zana from her own wedding. But everyone was already there. And she'd have to be there too.

"I have other ways to make a living, sweetie. You're never going to lose me," he whispered, touching her fingers before clearing his throat. "It's going to take a bit to arrange that dress; why don't you step out and do that? I'll be there in a second and we can head into the church."

As soon as Zana slammed her door, Gareth checked his Glock 19 in his shoulder holster. He'd wanted to do this quietly but his employers insisted it happen at the altar to send Sandra Windermere the most brutal message. The least he could do was take his shot at Bill after the ceremony so the family would have to contest Zana for his assets in court.

Ironic that's the most honest thing I've said to her in a year, he thought wistfully, his hand poised to open the driver's side door. She's never going to lose me, but I'm going to lose her in about 25 minutes.

***END***