He observed traces of Sarah’s presence. A mug on the kitchen island. Open magazines on the kitchen table. Her text books on the leather sofa. Her fleece hanging on the hook next to the front door. He buried his nose in the soft jacket. He could smell her. She was here. She was close. He set his backpack down and, a hunter stalking his prey, he silently ascended the stairs. The rush of adrenalized blood in his ears deafened him. Shouts of joyous greeting would have gone unheard at this point. Any moment now he would see her. As he crested the stairs and looked into the bedroom, he saw the white clouds of comforter on the bed gently rising and falling. He froze. She was there. In the bed. Asleep. A doe waiting to be taken. He stepped closer. Just over the top of the duvet he saw the dark tangles of her hair. Relief and warmth spread through him. She was laying on her back, her head turned towards him to the right, her left arm resting wildly over her head. Her eyes were closed. Her. "Brian is a very lucky man."Tommi and Sara exchanged smiles."He better treat my sister right," the bridesmaid said in a feignedwarning tone. "If he doesn't ...."The bride smiled and hugged her sister again, crying happy tears again."I know he'll take care of me," she said. "And I know I can always counton you and Katie." She backed away from the embrace. "I promise I won'tlet this interfere with our special sisters' relationship," she saidsolemnly.The bridesmaid laughed. "Well, you might not be able to help it - atleast for the honeymoon and the first few months. But you can text me,call me, or e-mail me any time you want!"The bride hugged her bridesmaid sister again. "Thank you for not beingjealous," she said simply.The bridesmaid smiled. "How could I? It was obvious you two were crazyabout each other." You know he still loves you, too?" the bride asked.The bridesmaid nodded solemnly. "I know. And I suppose a part of meloves him and probably always will. But he loves.
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