Chapter Four: My Best Friend's Wedding
Sarah smoothed down her forest green dress for the
umpteenth time. The dress had seemed like a good idea this morning; professional
yet feminine, the colour bringing out the flecks of green in her eyes. Now,
under the harsh LED lighting of the briefing room, she felt like a Christmas
tree that had wandered in by mistake.
She took a deep breath, willing her heart to calm.
The faces of the journalists swam before her, a sea of expectant expressions
and poised pens. Sarah gripped the edges of the podium, her palms clammy under
the pressure.
From across the room, Steve watched her, a small
smile playing on his lips. Even from this distance, he could see the slight
tremor in her hands. The way she bit her lower lip, a telltale sign of her
nerves. But to him, she looked nothing short of radiant. The fit of her dress,
her golden hair… it all added up to a picture of effortless perfection that
made his heart do a little somersault in his chest.
"Perfect," he thought, unable to
tear his gaze away from her.
Sarah cleared her throat, the sound unnaturally loud
in the quiet room. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words seemed to stick
in her throat. For a horrifying moment, she thought she might actually choke on
her own tongue. Wouldn't that be a headline? ‘Sarah Carter Struck Dumb at
Press Conference'.
She fumbled for the glass of water on the podium,
nearly knocking it over in her haste. As she took a sip, she caught Steve’s eye
across the room. He gave her a small, encouraging smile, which she blatantly
ignored.
"Before we begin," she started, her voice
coming out as barely more than a whisper. She cleared her throat again and
tried once more, this time managing to project her voice to the back of the
room. "Before we begin, I'd like to take a moment to thank Tony and the
team for the warm welcome. These guys are super soldiers, gods, insane
intellectuals... And they’re tolerating this media circus for me. So that I
could come home.”
The words weren't perfect, and she was pretty sure
her voice had a slight wobble to it, but it was a start. As she continued with
her prepared statement, Sarah felt her confidence growing.
Steve’s heart clenched at the vulnerability in
Sarah’s words, his chest tightening with guilt and half a decades’ worth of regret.
Of course, her return had stirred up a whirlwind of emotions for both of them,
but he dreaded the expected backlash that was sure to follow once he broke the
news later.
As the press briefing continued, Sarah fielded
questions from the journalists with practiced ease. Those who knew her
personally, however, could tell there was something more, something hidden
behind the façade of polite pleasantries and well-rehearsed answers.
And then, just as the tension reached its peak,
Sarah finally addressed the question on everyone’s mind. The real reason for
her return.
“Apart from needing more than a couple of days to
myself, I also couldn’t possibly miss my sister’s big day,” she announced with
forced cheerfulness. “It’s not every day your big sister and best friend tie
the knot.”
Steve’s heart plummeted at Sarah’s words, bile
rising from his stomach. Feelings of betrayal and disappointment gnawed at his
insides, the knowledge that someone had deliberately gone behind his back to
reveal something so sensitive.
Outraged, he stormed through the corridors, making a
beeline for Nat’s suite. Those who crossed his path quickly scurried out of the
way, sensing the thundercloud of anger radiating off him.
He reached Nat’s quarters and pounded on the door,
not caring who might hear. When Nat answered, Steve grabbed her arm without a
word.
"Rogers! What on earth–" Nat’s protests
were cut short as he shoved her inside.
"You told Sarah?" he demanded.
His hands shook as he ran them through his hair,
messing it up even further. If Nat hadn't been so terrified, she might have
found it comical how his usually impeccable appearance had crumbled.
Nat took a step back, her eyes wide as she took in Steve’s
wild appearance. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.
"By the time I got to her, she already
knew," she admitted softly, her voice surprisingly steady despite the
tremor in her hands.
Steve’s face contorted, a scoff-laugh leaving his
lips. "That's impossible," he spat. "How could she know? You’re
lying!”
“Why would I lie? And to you, of all people?
You know me better than that.”
Steve glanced over his shoulder, lowering his voice
to a whisper. “And have you told anyone about…?”
Nat’s fear gave way, drawing herself up to her full
height, which, even in her boots, wasn't much compared to Steve’s towering
frame. “I would never betray you like that, Steve.”
Finally, Steve deflated, the anger rushing out of
him like air from a punctured balloon. He slumped into a nearby sofa, his head
in his hands. "This is a disaster," he muttered.
Back at the press briefing, Sarah continued with her
over-cheery speech, the sadness in her voice only evident if you knew to look
out for it. “So please put your hands together for my sister, Sharon Carter,
and the amazing Captain Steve Rogers...”
Despite the pain and betrayal lingering in her
heart, Sarah joined the room in applauding for the happy couple. And in the
front row, Sharon watched her sister’s show of adoration with a sneer.
By nightfall, as the Avengers Compound settled into
a quiet hum of activity, Tony summoned Sarah to the common room with unexpected
warmth in his voice.
“Come on. Let’s have a chat...”
Sarah approached Tony cautiously, her heart pounding
with trepidation. Something was amiss. This wasn't the Tony Stark Sarah she remembered.
Had she inadvertently crossed a line without realising it?
“Tony, if my being here is too much of an
inconvenience, I completely un–”
“I owe you an apology,” he admitted, cutting her
short. “I was wrong about you. And so was Christine. You’re not the black sheep
of the family.”
A soft smile tugged at the corners of Sarah’s lips,
relief flooding through her at Tony’s unexpected admission.
“Thank you, Tony, but it’s okay. It’s nothing I
haven’t heard before,” she replied, her voice shaded with sadness. “Black
sheep... The Big Disappointment... The Other Carter... I’m just grateful you don’t
feel that way.”
Tony nodded, his gaze softening as he regarded Sarah
with newfound respect. He couldn’t help but marvel at how much she had changed
and matured over the years, her strength and resilience shining through, even
in the face of adversity.
“I’m definitely seeing Fury’s point,” Tony mused, a
wry smile playing at his lips.
Sarah’s eyes sparkled with gratitude as she looked
up at Tony, her expression one of innocence and vulnerability. It tugged at Tony's heartstrings.
“Tony, thank you so much. You will not regret this.
I promise not to let you down.”
As they sat together in the quiet of the common
room, Sarah felt intense gratitude sweep over her, finally feeling that her
return to New York was a good idea after all.
After a moment of consideration, Tony broached the
elephant in the room with a directness that was characteristic of him. “And
what about you and Steve? This isn’t some sorority house; I won’t tolerate
drama under my roof.
Recalling past antics, Sarah smiled sheepishly. That
was the image they still had of her, the image she had left behind. “Absolutely
not! You have my word. I’m not the same girl I was back then.”
It took a while for Tony to respond, his brows
furrowed in contemplation as he processed Sarah’s promise. “Well, alright
then,” he finally conceded. “I’ll do everything in my power to help you with
your... project.”
Tony lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper,
alluding to the sensitive nature of Sarah’s endeavour.
Just then, a heavy sigh sounded from behind them.
Tony turned to find Steve leaning against the door frame, his expression
unreadable. Sensing the tension in the room, Tony shot Sarah a warning glance
before excusing himself, leaving the two of them alone.
The air crackled with tension as Sarah faced Steve,
her heart pounding like a jackhammer against her ribcage. His cologne—that
infuriatingly familiar mix of sandalwood and citrus—wafted towards her,
threatening to break her.
"How'd you find out?" Steve finally asked,
his voice rough.
The memory of the wedding invitation hit Sarah like
a tsunami. She swallowed hard, tasting the bitterness of betrayal on her
tongue.
"I guess I was invited," she managed,
lifting her chin. "Found an invitation in my hotel room." She focused
on a spot just over his left shoulder, desperately trying to ignore how his simple
white t-shirt accentuated his broad shoulders.
Steve’s brow furrowed, creating that little 'V' she
once found adorable. "That doesn't make any sense..."
"Great. Now if you'll excuse me, I've had a
rough day."
"Sarah, wait."
She froze, her hand on the doorknob. "Steve, I
am not interested in what you have to say. Contrary to what I said at the press
conference, I'm not here for you, and I am certainly not here for Agent 13."
Steve’s shoulders slumped, as if her words had
physically struck him. "No, of course not," he whispered.
"Goodnight, Steve."
Sarah strode out, her exit as dramatic as her
entrance into his life had been all those years ago. As the door clicked shut
behind her, she leaned against the wall, her eyes stinging with fresh tears.
Meanwhile, Steve stood alone in the room, surrounded
by the lingering scent of Sarah’s signature shampoo. As he poured himself a
generous glass of aged whiskey, he couldn't help but wonder if there was enough
Asgardian Ale in the universe to drown out the memory of Sarah’s retreating
figure—and the future he'd lost all over again.
Watch Episode 4 Here:
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