Accidental Orc Daddy: An Orc Secret Baby Romantic Comedy

14. Mustaf

The bustle of the last-minute engagement party fills the banquet hall. Everyone filters in, offering congratulations to the soon-to-be bride and groom. But one face is mysteriously missing.

Meiko should be here for these pre-wedding festivities. I grab a passing bridesmaid I recognize from our time in the Maldives – Maica, I think her name was. ”Hey, is Meiko around? I thought she”d be with the wedding party.”

The girl shakes her head. ”Oh, didn”t you hear? She had to cancel. Terrible flu, she said.”

My shoulders tense involuntarily. Her illness seems suspect, a flimsy excuse. ”Right… the flu,” I mutter. The bridesmaid rushes off, oblivious to my skepticism.

I contort my large frame into a seat, my restless energy at odds with the cheerful celebratory buzz. Something doesn”t add up. Meiko missing all this fanfare because she’s suspiciously sick?

My gut says she”s avoiding me. But does she really not want to see me enough to miss her friend’s engagement dinner? She agreed to be a bridesmaid, so she can’t be trying to back out of the wedding, can she? Would she even do that? It’s not like our one night together ended on bad terms, at least, not as far as she was concerned.

The days crawl by at a sluggish pace as the wedding draws nearer. I pass the time mechanically – going to work, eating meals alone, and attempting to read in the evenings. But focus eludes me. My thoughts circle endlessly back to Meiko and the strangeness between us.

Our passionate encounter plays over and over in my mind. I was so sure it was the start of something meaningful. Now she can’t even participate in her friend’s wedding plans for fear of running into me?

In idle moments, I find myself wondering if she thinks of me, too. If the memory of our night together still lingers for her as it does for me. Or if she has banished it from her mind completely. I yearn for answers to bridge this widening chasm.

At night, my dreams betray me. Visions of her lips, her skin, the sounds of her pleasure. I wake up reaching for her, only to grasp cold sheets instead. Then comes the dull ache as reality settles back in.

The days creep by in this fashion until finally, the wedding is upon us. I steel myself as I don my suit, preparing for the bittersweet torture of being so close to her yet still shut out. My only solace is the chance to unravel this puzzle that consumes my waking thoughts.

The moment I enter the flower-adorned banquet hall, I spot her. Meiko stands out among the guests, a focal point my gaze is helplessly drawn back to again and again. From my vantage, I note subtle but significant changes from the laughing, passionate woman I remember.

Her elegant lavender dress and upswept hairstyle project an air of understated grace. Yet she holds herself contained, shoulders tense as if bracing against some unnamed weight. Her aura lacks the bright vitality that once pulled me like a magnet. In its place, a guarded wariness shadows her smile.

I watch her laugh lightly across the room, surrounded by friends. But the smile doesn”t reach her eyes, lacking the radiant joy I remember. She moves through the crowd with flawless social grace, chatting vivaciously with the other guests.

I spend the ceremony studying Meiko from my own position beside the groom as my frustration simmers. Her facade is flawless, yet I sense her tension, the subtle strain in the set of her shoulders belying her composure.

More than just wounded pride, my desire to understand her runs deeper, transcending ego or logic. I crave the Meiko I glimpsed that night - vibrant, unguarded, alive. This guarded stranger both inflames and confuses me.

I know I should brush it off, dismiss this pull between us as fleeting chemistry, nothing more. However much I try to rationalize it away, her spell on me persists.

At the reception, I remain fixed in place, desire and bitterness churning within. Across the room, her gaze meets mine for a heartbeat and in her eyes, I glimpse echoes of my own longing and turmoil.

But before I can approach her, she disappears into the crowd. I stand alone, more lost than ever. But at least now I”m certain. Whatever her reasons, I do still matter to her, just as she haunts me.

I’ve denied myself what I’ve needed for far too long. I won’t ruin the wedding, but by the end of the night, I will find Meiko and put an end to this longing for her.

I continue to watch her from a distance, wondering what is going through her head. Several odd things stick out to me, like the way her drink is a different color than the rest of the wedding party’s. Whatever is in that glass, it’s not champagne, and she sips it slowly.

The expression on her face is often strange, like she’s maybe tired or sick. I know her friend said she had the flu a few weeks ago, but she can’t still be under the weather, can she? If so, that’s a bit alarming.

It isn’t until I notice her feet that something clicks inside of me. When we met in the Maldives, she seemed to love her ridiculously high heels. Here, at a fancy wedding, she’s wearing flats.

And that’s the moment it all sinks in.