Chapter 11

"It's not always easy, but somehow love stays strong, if I can make you happy then this is where I belong."

Neither one of us speaks at first.

Nick sits a few inches away, looking straight ahead as he waits for me to stop crying, and for that alone I am grateful, because it feels like a kind of understanding.

"I think you forgot something," he says eventually, tapping the book in his lap. When I don't respond, only wipe my eyes and sniffle, he finally turns to look at me."Are you okay?"

"I can't believe how many times I've cried today."

"Me, too." He says, and I feel immediately awful. After all, he's going through the same thing.

"I'm sorry." I say quietly.

"Well, it's not like we had no warning." He says with a small smile. "Everyone always says to bring a handkerchief to weddings."

In spite to myself, I laugh. "I'm pretty sure nobody has ever suggested a handkerchief to me in my life." I say. "Kleenex, maybe."

We fall silent again, but it's not strained as it was earlier, at the church. A few cars drive up to the hotel entrance, the tires grumbling, the lights sweeping over us so that we're forced to squint.

"Are you okay?" I ask, and he nods.

"I will be."

"Did it go all right?"

"I suppose so," he says.

"Right," I say, closing my eyes. "Sorry."

He turns towards me, just slightly, his knee brushing up against mine. "I'm sorry, too. All that stuff I said about my father..."

"You were upset."

"I was angry."

"You were sad."

"I was sad," he agrees. "I still am."

"He's your dad."

Nick nods again. "You know part of me wishes I just came up to him and told him what's bothering me, just like you did. Maybe things would have turned out different," he sakes his head.

"It's not your fault," I say to him, glancing just for a moment. "You should have had more time with him."

Nick reaches up to loosen his tie. "I'm not sure that would have made a difference. We still hate each other and he still married her."

"It would have," I say, my throat thick. "It's not fair."

He looks away, blinking hard.

"Maybe you just both need some time and I'm sure he'll come around." I give him a small smile.

Nick turns to me, "Thanks."

"For what?"

"This." He says, "The rest of my family is home, but I felt like I couldn't breathe there. I just needed some fresh air."

I nod, "Me too."

"I just needed..." he trails off again, glancing over at me again. "Is it okay that I'm here?"

"Of course," I say, a bit too quickly. "Especially after I..."

"After you what?"

"Barged into the wedding earlier," I say, wincing a little at the memory. "Not that you didn't already have company."

He frowns at his shoes for a moment before it seems to click. "Oh," he says. "That was just my ex-girlfriend. She knows my dad. And she was worried how I'd handle it. But she was only there as a family friend. Really."

I feel a quick rush of relief. I hadn't realised just how powerfully I'd wished for this to be true until now.

"I'm glad she could be there," I tell him truthfully. "I'm glad you had someone."

"Yes, though she didn't leave me with any reading material." He says, thumping a hand against the book.

"Yeah, but she also probably didn't force you to talk to her."

"Or tease me about my accent."

"Or show up without an invitation."

"That'd be both of us." He reminds me, glancing over his shoulder at the entrance to the hotel, where a bellhop is watching us warily. "Why aren't you inside, anyway?"

I shrug.

"Claustrophobic?"

"No, actually," I say. "It hasn't been too bad."

"You've been imagining the sky, then?"

I look at him sideways. "I've been thinking about it all day."

"Me, too." He says, tipping his head back.

Somehow, almost without even realising it, we've moved closer together on the steps, so that although we're not quite leaning against each other, it would be difficult to fit anything between us. There's a scent of rain in the air, and the men smoking cigarettes nearby stub us out and head back inside. The bellhop peers up at the sky from beneath the brim of his cap, and the breeze makes the awning shudder and flap as if it were trying to take flight.

A fly lands on my knee, but I don't move to swat it away. Instead, we both watch it dart around for a moment before it takes off again, so fast we almost miss it.

"I wonder if he got to see the Tower of London." Nick says.

I give him a blank look.

"Our friend from the flight," he says with a grin. "The fly from the plane."

"Ah, right. I'm sure he did. He's probably off to check out nightlife now."

"After a busy day in London."

"After a long day in London."

"The longest," Nick agrees. "I don't know about you, but the last time I slept was during that stupid duck movie."

I laugh. "That's not true. You passed out again later. On my shoulder."

"No way," he says. "Never happened."

"Trust me, it did." I say, bumping my knee against his. "I remember it all."

He smiles, "Then I suppose you also remember being a damsel in distress."

Now it's my turn to look indignant. "I was not." I say. "I just had some troubles with my suitcase and a floor..."

"You're lucky I came to your rescue." He says with a smirk.

"Right," I say, laughing. "My knight in shining armour."

"At you service."

"Can you believe that was only yesterday?"

Another plane crosses the patch of sky above us, and I lean into Nick as we watch, our eyes trained on the bright dots of light. After a moment, he nudges me forward gently so that he can stand up, then offers me a hand.

"Let's dance."

"Here?"

"I was thinking inside, actually," he glances around –his eyes skipping from the carpeted steps to the restless bellhop to the cars lining up outside the entrance –then nods. "But why not?"

I rise to my feet and smooth my dress, and then Nick positions his hands like a professional ballroom dancer, one on my back and the other in the air. His form is perfect, his face serious, and I step into his waiting arms with a sheepish grin.

"I have no idea how to dance like this."

"I'll show you," he says but we still haven't moved an inch. We're just standing there, poised and ready, as if waiting for the music to begin, both of us unable to stop smiling.

His hand on my back is like something electric, and being here like this, so suddenly close to him, is enough to make me lightheaded. It's a feeling like a falling, like forgetting the words to a song.

"I can't believe you're here." I say, my voice soft. "I can't believe you found me."

"You found me first." He says, and when he leans down to kiss me, it's sweet and slow and I know this will be the one I'll always remember. Because while the other two kisses felt like endings, this one is unquestionably a beginning.

The rain begins to fall as we stand there, a sideways drizzle that settles over us lightly. When I lift my chin again, I see a drop land on Nick's forehead and then slip down to the end of his nose and without thinking, I move my hand from his shoulder to wipe it away.

"We should go in," I say and he nods, taking my hand.

There's water on his eyelashes, and he's looking at me like I'm the answer to some sort of a riddle. We walk inside together, my dress already dotted with specks of rain, the shoulders of his suit shade darker than before, but we're both smiling like it's some sort of problem we can't shake, like a case of hiccups.

At the door to the ballroom, I pause, tugging his hand.

"Are you sure you're up for another wedding right now?"

Nick looks down at me carefully. "That whole plane ride, you didn't realise my father was marrying my governess, you know why?"

I'm not sure what to say.

"Because I was with you." He tells me. "I feel better when I'm with you."

"I'm glad," I say, and then I surprise myself by rising on my tiptoes and kissing his rough cheek.

We can hear the music on the other side of the door, and I take a deep breath before pushing it open. Most of the tables are empty now, and everyone is out on the dance floor, swaying in time to an old love song.

Nick once again offers his hand, and he leads me through the maze of tables, weaving past plates of half-eaten cake and sticky champagne glasses and empty coffee cups until we reach the middle of the room.

I glance around, no longer embarrassed to have to many pairs of eyes on me. The bridesmaids are not-so-subtly pointing and giggling, and from where she's dancing with Tom, her head resting on his shoulder, Taylor winks at me as if saying I told you so.

On the other side of the room, dad and Demi have slowed almost to a stop, both of them staring. But when he catches my eye, dad smiles knowingly, and I can't help beaming back.

This time when Nick offers his hand to dance, he pulls me close.

"What happened to those formal techinques of yours?" I say in his shoulder. "Don't all proper English gentlemen dance like that?"

I can hear the smile in his voice. "I'm doing my summer research project on different styles of dancing."

"So does that mean we'll be doing the tango next?"

"Only if you're up for it."

I blush as his eyes glance down at my lips. I'm too embarrassed to kiss him in front of everyone...

"Did you know that people who meet in airports are seventy-two percent more likely to fall for each other than people who meet anywhere else?"

"You're ridiculous," I say, resting my head on his shoulder. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Yes," he says, laughing. "You, actually. About a thousand times today."

"Well, today's almost over." I say, glancing at the gold-trimmed clock on the other side of the room. "Only four more minutes. It's eleven fifty-six."

"That means we met twenty-four hours ago."

"Seems like it's been longer."

Nick looks down, "Hey, when do you plan to fly back home?"

My smile falters. I don't want to think about going back home. "My plane leaves at 10 PM on Monday."

Nick smiles, "Did you know that people who meet at least three different times within a twenty-four hour period are ninety-eight percent more likely to meet again?"

This time, I don't bother correcting him. Just this once, I'd like to believe that he's right.

"So you're telling me you'll just happen to be in the same plane with me in two days?" I brush my fingers against his cheek.

He bites it lightly and I suppress a smile. "You know," I stop dancing for a second and look him in the eyes. "when my mom told me how I had to go visit my dad for the whole weekend, I thought it'd be hell." I smile up at him. "Turns out I was wrong."

"So wrong," he smiles. "Imagine if you weren't late for your flight, though. We wouldn't of have met."

"Well, you have my suitcase to thank for." I giggle. "I don't think I would survive the flight without you, so thank you for that."

Nick waves his hand like it's nothing. "You're very easy to distract. Besides, you saved me too in those seven hours." He leans down and brushes our noses together.

"We're gonna get through this, Nick. Together." We start swaying again as a soft love song blasts from the speakers.

"Yeah," He lands a soft kiss on my cheek. "How about when we get back, whenever you want, we go grab some dinner?"

"I think Tuesday sounds amazing, pick me up at seven?" I giggle and he chuckles.

"Now even if we don't fly back together, we know we'll see each other again." Nick leans closer. I don't think about my dad, Demi, Taylor or any of the hundered people around us when Nick kisses me.

"In 72 hours, right?" I smile against his lips.

"In 72 hours."

"And I'd just like to say, I thank god that you're here with me. And I know you too well to say that you're perfect, but you'll see, oh my sweet, love, you're perfect to me."

The End

A/N: Yes, it's the end. There won't be any epilogue, because I don't think you need one since this whole chapter was basically a whole lot of niley cuteness. And I actually like how I changed the end, than the one in the book. I do have the last sentence from the book somewhere in this chapter, though but it didn't finish the way the book did...I'm proud of all the reviews I got. Uhm, Once Upon A Magazine will be up if not before then next weekend, and then I'll upload a new story! :D P.S, the book this was based upon is called The Probability Of Love At First Sight by Jennifer E. Smith.