Nine minutes.

Gillian sat at the end of the bed in Cal's guest room. She was completely still, hands clasped together in her lap, staring beyond the mirror positioned several feet before her. Her reflection would show anxiety behind perfect makeup and a beautiful fitted light silver dress. She didn't want to see that around her eyes so she chose not to.

He'd disappeared and she didn't know how to feel. Anger? Fear? Worry? Irritation? In her heart she didn't believe he'd do this to her. There were so many times when he'd gaze at her, thinking she wasn't paying attention. But she was. She always was. His expression would be rife with wonder, awe and adoration. It had never been the face of a man who would leave her on their wedding day. But then again, she'd been known to be wrong.

Emily and Ria had snuck away, presumably in an attempt to track Cal down but Gillian knew that if he didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be.

All this time to get to this point and now what? She'd died six months ago and he'd brought her back. Wasn't there a proverb that says once someone saved your life, they were forever responsible for it? Or was that from just some old episode of Kung Fu she'd seen as a child? Okay, she was now losing it. Her fiancé, was, after all missing on their wedding day. She had a right to lose it a little.

Seven minutes.

What if something terrible had happened? What if he'd been lured out by someone on false pretenses? What if even now as she sat perfectly still upstairs in the Lightman house, terrible things were happening to him?

And what was the likelihood of that?

She admitted to herself that that scenario was pretty unlikely. At least she thought so. Wait. Who was she kidding? This was Cal. It wasn't like he didn't have enemies. She wondered if the sheer numbers would line up around the block. Of course, he could have just run out last minute for a drink or…Gillian stopped the thought progression right there.

No. I'm not going to go there.

Five minutes.

If she listened carefully, she could make out all the voices from the back garden. There hadn't been a huge guest list and she could easily isolate certain ones in instant recognition, even if the words weren't perfectly clear. Eli conversing with his date. Ben's authoritative tone speaking casually with the chaplain. Heidi with her husband and 11-year-old son. Emily's boyfriend talking to one of the musicians. More but she chose to tune out again, suddenly aware that all these people would bear witness to her humiliation.

At this point, maybe he'd better stay gone because if he came to close to her after pulling a stunt like this, she would surely beat him to death with the closest blunt object.

Three minutes.

Her hands were starting to shake. Eyes dropping, she could see the slight tremors run through her fingertips as they began to traverse her arms and up into her body. She was determined to keep tears at bay though. No Goddamned way was she going to cry. Gillian distracted herself by contemplating blunt objects and allowed the anger to blossom.

5:59.

"Gill?" Emily softly knocked before opening the door and peeking through. Her brown eyes were immediately huge when she read Gillian's expression. No training in the world was currently needed for it. "Um, it's all good. Found him."

"Where was he?"

The girl shrugged, happy to see instant relief and feel all the tension drain from the room. It had been so thick a moment before that she could barely breathe. Not that she blamed Gillian in the least. It had looked pretty bad there for a bit. "Said he was in the garage grabbing some solitude and a beer."

One eyebrow slid upward coolly but her heart continued a panicked tempo.

"Yeah, well, I don't believe him either but he doesn't have a black eye, fat lip or anything."

Gillian let a lung full of held air out in a rush. "No torn tux?"

"Nope. Not that I can tell."

"Guess we'll give him the benefit of the doubt." Her heart finally began to slow to just above normal.

They grinned at one another as string music began to drift up toward the bedroom window.

Cal watched her approach but didn't breathe. She was so lovely and he felt warmth surge through his chest and flutter outward. He'd been waiting for this moment for years, before he even knew he desired this. Desired her. And now it seemed so obvious. As real as the thumping of his heart and…he finally took a breath…the influx of oxygen into his lungs. Had he ever loved someone like he loved Gillian? No. He hadn't. Well, Emily but it was a different kind of love. Gillian was that puzzle piece that had been missing his whole adult life and now the picture was finally complete. The thought felt goofy but it didn't make it any less true.

Her hand was now in his. So soft and warm. Her eyes met his and he saw intense love but also relief. He felt bad about that but still had managed to get back in time (no thanks to Terry). He hadn't meant to scare her but he planned on making it up to her. Starting now, throughout the honeymoon and over the rest of his life.

Words were spoken by the chaplain, sincere and beautiful words were exchanged, Emily squealed in excitement and the rest of the evening drifted by in a haze of well-wishers, close dances, spoons against glasses, soft kisses and tunnel vision. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her and she seemed to be having the same problem

And she never even noticed the bruises on his knuckles.

Think that might wrap this one up. Thought I'd leave it to your own imagination regarding that last part. Please don't hurt me. ;-)