Brady picked another wildflower and started plucking off
more petals. She was way past playing
the he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not game.
She knew he loved her. She'd be
more honest asking if she loved him. She
did, didn't she? Love. What was love? Brady took in her surroundings and sighed
blissfully at the beauty. A village in
the English countryside; so picturesque and perfect. Green hills, some with sheep grazing; clusters
of trees and clearings full of flowers.
It was absolutely a dream. She
mentally gave herself a pat on the back for choosing such a place for her
wedding.
Her
wedding. She'd felt sure of everything
last night until... She pushed the
thought back and forced herself to conjure up a pretend Philip sitting beside
her. What would he say to her right
now? "Brady, we've been so worried
about you." She felt a little knot
forming in her stomach. Why did it
bother her to think Philip was worried?
Isn't that what she'd wanted?
But, she felt nervous and...what was that other, foreign feeling? Guilt!
She felt guilty for running out on her own wedding! Why?
It was her wedding, after
all. And
Philip's, said her conscience. She
knew she'd been foolish to run away, but he'd brought it on himself,
right?
What would Fiona do, she asked herself
for the hundredth time. She mentally
conjured up Fiona but literally waved her hand in front of her to dispel the
image as soon as she'd pictured it because of the scowl on her imaginary Fiona's
face. She knew Fiona would be furious at
her. Fiona never ran away. Fiona the strong; Fiona the honest; Fiona the
better-than-everyone. She wasn't jealous. Brady knew she was more beautiful and had
more popularity than her younger sister.
But for some reason, she'd seen Philip, on more than one occasion,
looking at Fiona with an expression akin to worship. Why didn't he worship Brady?!
He told
Brady he loved her. And she believed
him. Of course he did. But he didn't adore her. Marrying someone
who didn't adore her seemed like she was settling. But she wanted Philip! Didn't he realize how lucky he was? Again, the question what would Fiona do popped into her mind. She knew.
Fiona would pray.
Brady
had prayed on and off throughout her life but didn't see that it did any
good. She made her own blessings. She believed in God and was faithful in her
church attendance. Her faith surely
couldn't be questioned. But God had made
her beautiful and smart and talented, so surely He wanted her to use her gifts
however she deemed best for her. Right? And what was best for right now?
Brady
thought back to her first date with Philip.
He'd come to the door of her apartment and, when she'd answered, he'd
handed her a bouquet of flowers. She'd
literally laughed in his face and said she hadn't realized he was so old
fashioned. Instead of frowning and
apologizing, like she'd half-expected him to do, he'd smiled and said,
"Well, I am. Do you have a vase for these?" That had intrigued her. A man with self-confidence. It was almost a challenge. After several months of dating she'd found
herself wanting to please him. She'd
wanted his praise; something he only gave for certain things she did. He wasn't generous with compliments about her
appearance; a first for Brady.
At
first she'd been frustrated. Didn't he
realize the time and effort she put into her physical appearance? There were beauty regimens, long-researched
and put to use in order to maintain her perfect skin, glossy blonde hair,
gleaming teeth, and super-model-thin figure!
He did occasionally tell her she looked nice. Nice?
Her mother looked nice. Fiona
looked nice. She was stunning! But when he did praise her, she felt it to her very soul. The first time had been when she'd helped the
little girl in the shopping mall.
Philip
and Brady had been shopping for Brady a new scarf when this young girl, about
seven years old, had walked up to them.
She'd been crying and had looked Brady right in the eye. One thing Brady Kenton could not ignore was a
needy child. The girl had become
separated from mother and Brady and Philip had spent the next half-hour
searching for her. They'd found her and
Brady was overwhelmed with the gratitude the distraught mother had bestowed
upon her. But even more exhilarating had
been Philip's words. "That was a very
good thing you did for them. I'm proud
of you."
The
memory of the mother and daughter made her stomach knot up again. Was anyone that concerned about her right
now? Would there be tears of rejoicing
when she was found? Somehow she doubted
it. No one ever really worried about
her. That's why she had to put so much
energy into worrying about herself.
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