I've been staring at my reflection in the mirror for over fifteen minutes now. My feet are getting sore. I mind not the physical discomfort. It's the mental hurricane that stands out. Is it safe to say that I am not stable? There are paradoxes in the way I feel. The way I think. I want to be happy and unwavering. I want to be steady and cheerful. And sometimes I really am. But other times I am wreck. I always wondered why. Why all of a sudden everything seemed different? More menacing. And I am no longer sure where I want to go. Or who I want to be. Or what will happen next. But one thing I know for sure: him.

Justin isn't just someone that I might get over one day. Justin is much more than a partner. He's a refuge. A safe place where all my hopes and dreams can prosper. A different dimension where I no longer have to worry about tomorrow. Or the day after. Or the day after. Or the day after. Or forever. He's a hug where all my swings and shifts can be indulged. I am talking about the love of my life. A father. A brother. A lover. A best friend. And a whole set of necessities that my life doesn't go on without. But am I, even slightly, good enough?

As I said before: I am a wreck. A malfunctioning ghost of a woman. Drowned debris of a ship. No good for anything. I've got nothing to offer him, when he offers me the world and even beyond. It's unfair for him and for me in so many ways. The analogy is impossible. He will win in every round. In the round of kindness. In the round of ambition. In the round of intellect. Experience. Passion. Steadiness. Certainty. Sanity. Sanity. SANITY.

I am flawed. He's marrying me. I am scared. He's marrying me. Will he leave me when he finds out? He's marrying me. I love him. He's marrying me.

My feet are numb. I should take a seat. I recall the first time I we met. I was planning to open a new branch of my brand's chain, Sil. It's a brand that blossomed after years of hard work, and I was super-excited to bloom more. I named it after the one thing I care about the most. A prominent architecting institute showed interest in taking this project. I agreed immediately and accepted their invite to visit the corporation to discuss the designs. I was taking the elevator that day when the power went off. I learned later that an accident occurred and the main cable was sliced completely. I started suffocating. Did I mention that I am a claustrophobic? I panicked and sweated quickly. I know that it isn't possible that I was running out of oxygen already, but at that time I wasn't logical, not even a little. I believed I was just going to die. Dizzily, I came down to my knees and started praying. I thought of Silver. I had to get out. I needed to. Silver. I wanted to tell her I love her. Once more. Just once. I banged on the door. Heavily. Desperately. Indecisively. I didn't know what I was hoping for. Someone help me? I don't even know if someone is out there. Can anyone here me?! I thought to myself.

Then a shout came out from somewhere I don't recognize. Like it was buried within my guts. Between my ribs. "HELP!" I screamed.

I was losing hope when I heard someone on the other side, asking me if I was okay. Promising to help me. He promised. His voice gentle but strong. He sent a wave of assurance within me. I trusted him. One minute later the door started opening. He used an axe as a wedge to open the door. I thought these axes were only for firemen not superheroes, I told him a month later. Once there was enough room, he slipped his hands and used them to open the door. I was supposed to get out, right? But I couldn't. The elevator stopped somwhere between the third and fourth floors. My entry to the fourth floor was, approximately, two meters away. There was enough room for my body to get out, but it was out of my reach. And with these weak legs of mine, I couldn't jump. Even in my right physical state, I couldn't jump a distance of two meter.

He realized it was impossible, so he took a deep breath and used the axe to obstruct the door from closing. And asked me if I can reach his arms so he would carry me out. I held his hands firmly as fast as I could. I was shaking. He yanked me strongly yet carefully. I did all I can to hold on to him, but my arms were too weak and shaking. I slipped. He sighed. I started to cry.

"Hey, it's okay. We will try again. I won't give up on you,' he said gently.

"I am weak. I can't get out... you should just leave me here,"

"What's your name?"

I sniffed, "Caroline."

"Caroline, you're beautiful. Will you do me a favor and get out so I can take you out tonight?"

I smiled.

"Hold my hands as hard as you can, Caroline."

I took his hands again, harder this time. I squeezed his hands and shut my eyes. He lifted harder this time. I could say he used all his power because when I came out he fell on his back as his chest heaved rapidly. Then he looked at me.

"Hi."

I wiped my tears with my sleeve, "Hey."

I remember him driving me home after convincing me that I am not in the right state to drive. I remember him taking me out to a cozy diner. I remember him complimenting my shoulder-short, blond hair and my green eyes. I remember him smiling at me as I ate and telling me I was utterly breathtaking. I remember it so vividly. Everything about him I remember vividly.

"What's your name?"

"I never told you my name? Oh my god. You came out to creepy diner with a man who you don't even know his name?" he chuckled.

I shrugged.

"It's Justin. Justin Drill. I am a bank accountant. I was in a work related visit to that firm today. And I am glad it was today," he winked.

I blushed.

"My parents live in Hong Kong. I am an only child. Don't have a lot of friends. You can say I am an introvert. I live three streets from here. I love Clint Eastwood big-time. And I believe I like you."

So smooth, oh my god.

I gasp for air, "I am Caroline," I swear I am a retarded. Of course he knows I am Caroline, "I make things. Crafts, I mean. I started solo but now I have a team."

"Very cool. I like that. What crafts do you do?"

"Mmm... accessories, pottery, decorative objects, things of this sort. I... own the brand, Sil." I said it like it wasn't real. I never felt this was real. I always thought I was dreaming, and that one day I will wake up and go back to where I came from.

"Wow. I am stunned. I love this brand. I mean, you create amazing crafts! I swear they're so pretty and tidy. I admire your work."

"Thank you," I blushed again.

He started at me for what seemed like an eternity. I am uncomfortable. I like it.

*****************​

"So? We're just going to do nothing? What if he's sick or in some trouble? We shouldn't stop looking."

"Sil, let's just ask Caroline, she might know where he is and we would be doing all this for nothing."

"Jeff, don't make me stab you, okay? We can't concern her at the moment. She will freak out. How many times do I have to say that?"

"Fine."

A pause.

"So where are we heading? Do we have a plan?" Jeff asked, looking at his watch. It's almost noon. The wedding starts in three hours.

"Not a plan but a destination."

"Elaborate."

"Let's go check at Caroline. Maybe he contacted her or something. We might even find him there. And we can talk to her and indirectly find out if she knows where he is."

"Let's go then."