Page 6 of Targeted By Love

Once inside, I found the spot quickly. It wasn’t rocket science. This was a typical chapel, and I was going to stand in the typical place, as my brother had a typical wedding. None of that was weird, but being in the space… that was.

As I stepped inside, something felt different—not about the room itself. It was just a room, decorated for a wedding in the most typical fashion. No, this something different was all about me in a way I didn’t understand. I instantly felt less burdened, almost like I was being hugged, like I was home for the first time after a long trip away.

I wasn’t into religion; that wasn’t how my family grew up or how I lived my life. But if this was how it made you feel, I got it for the first time. Who wouldn’t want to feel this way… always.

Standing in my spot for the ceremony, I looked around to make sure I saw where everything was taking place, and went to head back to my brother. Only, as I went to leave, it almost hurt—like I was supposed to be there. The entire thing was bizarre and wonderful and scary and safe.

The far door cracked open, the man with the clipboard standing there, and it was enough of a start to have me leave.

Once back in the dressing room, the clock reminded me there was still a while before they were letting people into the church, which meant I got to listen to my brother talk about his plans for the honeymoon. That I didn’t mind. Listening to him discuss the places they planned to go was interesting enough, but then he pivoted to “work” and the wedding couldn’t come fast enough.

My brother’s work had never been too legal, from under-the-table gigs to pool sharking, to whatever the new scam of the day was. I hoped his gambling habit was a thing of the past. I’d witnessed a friend lose everything because of that addiction. I also worried my brother smoked too much weed. Other than eating everything in the pantry and fridge, he did little when he was stoned. Time he could have spent working a regular job.

Seb’s newest grift had something to do with a non-bitcoin bitcoin. He repeatedly mentioned he had really big plans. And they were big, but nothing about them sounded exactly legal. He did use the word “trading,” so maybe they were, but given his track record? Apparently, he was going to strike it rich, and I should get in on the ground floor.

Not gonna happen.

I just nodded and smiled, telling him how happy I was for him and that I’d think about it. And I did think about it long enough to decide; not a chance. Part of me felt bad for his fiancé, Kyle, for marrying into this. But we all chose our paths, and for whatever reason, his led straight to Seb.

Finally, when I thought I wasn’t going to be able to make it a single second longer, clipboard man came in to let us know it was time for us to make our way to the chapel.

I stood by my brother’s side, not surprised by the number of people there. Seb’s late father had been pretty prominent in certain circles, so it made sense some of the guests were there to see his son get married. To them it was a social event, not much more. It wasn’t as if Seb knew them all. And of course his fiancé had family and friends there too. Well attended, it was.

No surprise, I didn’t recognize a lot of the faces, but it wasn’t my wedding and I didn’t need to. I did glimpse my mom and gave her a big smile and a half-wave. She beamed back at me. At least I got that part of the day right.

The wedding itself had everything—the march, the solo singer, and the sermon that was “not really a sermon” but definitely was. They exchanged traditional vows. Everything was 100% textbook. And still, I couldn’t help but feel emotional.

Here I was, not even liking my brother and feeling like this was a special day. Maybe there was something in the candles. That was probably it, they were infused with essential oil or something. That would explain why this embraced me like a cocoon of love.

My new brother-in-law—I don’t think I’d ever seen someone as happy as he looked when that ring was slipped on his finger.

“I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss your groom.”

They kissed to cheers, turned around, grabbed hands, and ran out. So much for a formal procession. The rest of the wedding party and my mom followed behind them after clipboard man waved us on.

And then, on my way out, I saw him. I’d recognize those eyes anywhere. Maynard.

That warm, gushy feeling I’d had before multiplied. He didn’t look like himself at all, but at the same time, he looked exactly like him. No wonder I’d felt this way. I must have sensed he was here.

Maynard had always been home for me. Always.

I hated losing track of him because of college. We didn’t have much of a choice but to go our separate ways. There were times in life when we got to make all the decisions, and other times when we didn’t. But not keeping track of him? Yeah, I could have done better. Maybe this was fate’s way of saying, “Hey, remember him?”

Maybe this wedding was worth coming to after all.

The plan was for everyone to shake hands and congratulate the grooms before the photographer took a million pictures. But before dealing with any of that, I needed to find Maynard, to talk to him, to make sure he was real.

Once everyone cleared out of the chapel, I waited until my mom was preoccupied with handshakes and snuck away to find Maynard.

He wasn’t hard to find. That small smile on his face told me he was as happy to see me as I was to see him. His eyes? They were telling a different tale—unsure, nervous, ecstatic, or maybe a combination of all three at once.

“Hi,” I said.

So much for being eloquent.

“Hi.”

“I didn’t know you were going to be here. Please tell me you’re coming to the reception.” And that he’d be alone. “I missed you.”