Stacy — Don't Go

Earlier that day…

"What are you talking about?" Scott asked, his voice rising in pitch. Realizing he was being loud, he lowered his voice and tried again. "You're not getting married."

He said it like it was fact, with such confidence that even I believed him for a second. Stuck in the moment with him, like we were frozen in time, my senses overwhelmed me.

The near dead silence in preparation for going live, the smell of freshly baked bread and sugary frosting, the slight coolness coming from the display case, the taste of bile rising up in my throat. The feeling of his warm hand cupped around the side of my neck.

"Stacy?" he implored, peering into my face, sounding less certain than a moment ago.

I could hear my pulse pounding noisily in my ears as I looked for the right words. They never came.

"What, because no one would want to marry me? I'm hot, Scott. I have people looking at me wherever I go. Both sexes, not just men," I said, a rush of emotion washing over me.

"I never said no one…" Scott stepped away and turned his back on me.

I missed him. His eyes on me. The way he smiled at me. The warmth of his hand on my neck from just a moment ago. Here I was, on the verge of putting hundreds of miles between us and I couldn't even handle two feet.

Scott turned back around and walked up to me.

"I know that. Why do you think I'm always looking at you? From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I've been committing you to memory. I have never once forgotten how beautiful you are. Inside and out. You're the most inspiring photograph I've ever taken. Can he say that?"

"You can't say shit like that," I snapped. "I'm your friend, Scott. Friends move away. Friends get married to other people," I said with a shrug.

Daughters of powerful men don't get a choice. I wanted so badly to tell him, but at this point I felt like it would only make things worse.

Scott nodded his head, looking like I'd just punched him in the gut.

"You sleep on your tummy, never any other way, unless I'm holding you. Does he know that? Parties make you uncomfortable, but you'd never know it because people love you. Does he know that? You have a photographic memory and consume textbooks at an alarming rate, hence the near perfect GPA. Does he know that? You suck at being a barista, but you keep getting jobs at coffee shops. Does he know that? The closest thing you've ever come to seeing a rom com is literally The Dark Knight Trilogy. Does he know that? You think ice cream cakes are stupid and refuse to have them on principle even though that's just ice cream, you freak. Watching movies with you is a nightmare, because you know the ending within minutes of it starting. Does he know that? You are the smartest, most fun, most beautiful girl in any room."

I was absolutely floored. As he took a deep breath, I risked a look at him, trying to get myself to be rational. He was my best friend. Knowing all of these things about me was nothing to write home about. In all the time I had known him though, he had never looked at me like he was now.

"Does he know that?" he asked softly, his voice almost a plea. "If he doesn't know all those things, he's not the guy, Stace."

Leaving was always going to be hard, but what I did next would make it impossible.

"No," I whispered, taking his hands into mine. "He doesn't know any of it."

Some things in life you decide to do. Others are simply unavoidable. We were drawing closer to each other like magnets.

The last thing he said to me before my eyes closed and our lips met was, "Then don't go."

For the next ten seconds, everything and everyone but Scott didn't exist to me. Hesitance and featherlight pecks on the lips soon turned into something deeper. Then he was stealing my breath, sealing my mouth with his again and again.

In the back of my mind, I could hear applause. His tongue slipped into my mouth and I actively resisted the thoughts gradually trickling back into my mind. He pulled me close, my body heating up as his form molded to mine. I grabbed onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he cupped my cheeks, drawing me in even closer.

It was only when I heard Kenny's voice that my eyes flew open.

"That's Metro Two News, making love connections baby. Back to you, Sandy," he said and I immediately pushed Scott away.

Everyone in the bakery was still applauding as I got my bearings, air slowly filling my lungs. The first thing I saw, post kiss, was Scott touching his lips with his fingers, followed by the camera aimed at us.

My brain completely malfunctioned, this time in a different way. I walked over to Kenny and grabbed him by the collar.

"Did that just go live? Are you out of your fucking mind? Do you have any idea what you just did?" I yelled at him, the ramifications of what had just happened sinking in slowly.

"I boosted our ratings?" Kenny said sheepishly.

"Stace, it's okay," said Scott, joining us and taking me aside. "Look, it's not a big deal. No one even watches the news."

"Not a big deal?" I hissed, trying to ignore the anger that was bubbling up inside me.

That kiss was seven years in the making and he thought it was no big deal?

"I am the engaged daughter of a mafia king, Scott." I huffed, no longer caring what he did or didn't know. "My fiancé is the son of the second most powerful don in America and I was just seen swapping spit with someone else. This is absolutely the furthest thing from being okay."

Scott looked at me like I was an alien actively growing additional heads.

"I'm sorry, what? You're who now?"