26
Tuesday, December 24
Wedding Day
Gwen
On the morning of my wedding day, Christmas Eve, we finally get the go-ahead to board. Cheers erupt from the travelers at Gate 14. They clap, high-five, and hug like their favorite team just won the Super Bowl. Even the gate agents and flight attendants are grinning as they scan our boarding passes and welcome us onto the plane.
I made it. About to take off. I text Caleb and our mothers. I won’t arrive until 2:00 p.m. Our wedding starts at 6:00 p.m. There’s barely enough time to get home, have my hair and make-up done, and drive to the ceremony.
I’m returning to my fiancé, to my wedding, but I have no idea what reception I’ll receive.
Will Caleb be happy to see me?
I’m restless during the flight, only sleeping fitfully. I chew on my nails, worrying about everything.
Caleb. The wedding.
The descent is turbulent. Wind buffets the plane. It dips and bounces, which makes me nauseous to the point where I’m clutching my stomach. Wayne gives me a worried side-eye and slides an air-sickness bag my way.
A bumpy landing jostles my already full bladder. “Hey,” I tell my friends as we walk off the plane. “I need to stop by the bathroom.”
“There’s one over there,” Alvina says, pointing. “You go, and I’ll help Wayne with the bags.”
I don’t take long. When I come back out, a handsome young man is waiting for me. “Dr. Wright?”
“Yes, that’s me.” I pull my phone out of my waist bag and turn it on. It pings repeatedly, alerts notifying me that I’ve missed a bunch of text messages.
“Your friends have your luggage.” The man smiles, showing off straight, overly white teeth. “They asked me to take you to them.”
I’m distracted, scrolling through my texts. One is from Caleb, saying, Okay, sounds good. My head down, I follow the man. We walk through a door and into a dim room. I’ve just looked up when something cold and wet is placed over my mouth and nose. I have a second to register that it smells awful before the world goes dark.