Daddy's Pet

Rue

"We now present the bride and groom!"

Cheers erupt around me, mixing in with the soft violin music that drifts around the elegantly decorated club.

Above, fairy lights twinkle as the overhead lights dim, and a single spotlight rests on the double doors that are opening.

I swallow and hold my breath as my heart races and stings with an emotion I never thought that I would be feeling. Not when today was a happy day. A glorious occasion and something that the lovely bride worked so hard to achieve. And even though I'm jealous, my heart is aching, and I wish I could leave and pretend that today never happened, I remain in place and watch as the woman in question and her new groom enter.

They both look perfect together, she with her tall, lean figure and curly blonde hair that cascades down her body like a golden waterfall and her sparkling blue eyes that show exactly how happy she is. And he, with messy salt and pepper locks that scatter about the top of his clean-shaven tan face and dark, black-hole eyes that just suck you in.

They're dressed to the nines in their wedding attire: a beautiful white dress with sequins that sparkle like stars in the light as she moves and a black suit that is tailored to show off his muscular figure.

Their lips are twisted into smiles, showing just how happy they are to be united, and yet, when his gaze shifts to mine, I see something there.

What was it?

Unease?

Confusion?

Or was it something else that he is fighting to make sure I can't see? I wasn't sure, but as our eyes meet, I feel my heart squeeze painfully and a knot begin to form in my throat, suffocating me while I try my damndest to keep a smile on my face.

You see, the woman getting married is my mother, and the one that she is marrying is a man who opened up my eyes to the world of love and the pain it brought along with it when the one you love wouldn't and couldn't be with you.

Everyone has a first love.

Some meet that person who they instantly click with and feel butterflies with, while others slowly fall in love as time passes.

I was no exception to this, and because I wasn't an exception, my first love came while I was still in high school.

I was eighteen at the time, and I didn't really fit in, so I never had the chance to fall in love.

Instead, I was bullied, mocked, and ostracized by my classmates. Boys and girls, they all made sure to make my life a living hell because I was chubby, short, wore glasses, and couldn't quite control my wild blonde hair, so it sat crazily around my head.

I was a textbook nerd and freak, and just like in those stories you read about high school and the outcast,