A/N: This is the last chapter of the Right Moment. Thanks for everyone who read and/or reviewed. The lyrics sampled below are, again, to Far Away by Nickleback.

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Letting go is a decision that can never be dictated to us. It is a resolution we make on our own. It's easy to hold onto memories, to hold onto someone who loved us. But we have no way of knowing whether that person will person will return out of thin air, so we hold onto that thought. If we choose to hold onto that past, closing our hearts, we will grow with bitterness and wishful yearning.

Sara Tancredi stood in front of the vanity mirror, tucked away in a silent corner of the bride's room of the church. Her fingers, manicured in the early morning, sprinkled across the fabric of her clothing, hiding the butterflies hoarding her stomach. The large creatures with tattered wings felt ready of rupture from their cocoon, escaping into the world of utmost lunacy. The room, decorated simply for the small occasions, suffocated her. The walls drew closer, trapping her inside; was she giving everything up?

Her bridesmaids rushed around her in an infinite race, preparing in such a manner that reflected urgency. The women, their hair perfectly designed in identical styles, were scantly clad in lingerie; only a few were ahead by having slipped on their dresses. The radio soothingly tuned to a slow melody barely peaked over the nervous prattle of the women. Sara swallowed; their frantic feet mimicked her nerves in flawless unison. But maybe they were more nervous than she was.

The past day had passed in a blur. She was on this rollercoaster, being dragged onto the death ride by her fiancé. Colin pulled her through everything, instructing her patiently through the last rehearsal. In her conscious, she was pre-occupied with her conversation with Michael. She couldn't get him out of her mind; he was like a plague, infecting every inch of her body. She couldn't think correctly—or evenly sanely—when she was around him. Every protective wall crumbled down. She was no longer that cautious and calculated woman she had personified herself as; she was messy and incorrigible. She couldn't fix it.

Her hand grazed her forehead, bowing her head, and she breathed in. A hand grasped her naked shoulder; she looked over. Her best friend smiled encouragingly at her, giving her shoulder a squeeze. Sara smiled politely at her, keeping her eyes on the woman as she talked to her. As the schedule was given to her, last second reminders of changed items, time expanded and plummeted into the black hole.

In less than two hours she was going to be Mrs. Colin Miller and Michael Scofield just walked back into her life.

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The cab rolled up to the curb, easing to a slow halt in front of the crowded church. He hesitated at first, eyes widening in amazement at the size. The cab driver, his hat cloaking his emerald eyes, turned in his seat and asked the young man cautiously if he was going to climb from the yellow car. Michael merely nodded and got out. Throngs of people entered the church; elderly and little girls alike holding the arms of suited men, the large men at the door allowing them passage into the event. Michael stood alone of the pure sidewalk, inspecting all routes inside.

He watched the line outside the door, how it didn't decrease in the short few minutes as people pleaded with the men at the door to let them in, then observed the others eligible to enter. He built comparisons and contrasts. He cracked his knuckles, ready for game play, and slipped into the back of a group of people around his age passing through the first doors. No one looked in his direction. He held his breath for a second longer when he noticed another man at the second door, watching over a beaming woman handing out booklets and welcoming the guests.

The man's eyes fell on him; he looked away. He was handed a booklet, which he accepted. A rough hand grabbed his arm, yanking him backyard into the passageway. Steel eyes pounced on him. "Name please."

Michael cleared his throat. "Scofield, Michael."

The man skimmed the packet of papers in his hands, flipped clean pages out as his pen probed down the list of names. He stopped and his eyes flicked up to Michael. He stood back. "All right. Enjoy the ceremony."

Michael nodded. "Thank-you."

He hurriedly slid past the man, worrying for a second he would he held back again. He stopped in the center of the aisle, for the first time seeing the majesty of the ceremony. Every pew except the last three were filled, elegantly dressed guests molded together. People brushed past him, offering a smile. No one recognized them. He scanned the audience, looking for any clue of someone he knew. Suits of black and blue lined the pews, professionally beside women adorned in their finest. Many of the men were older, insisting they were the Governor's business partners or friends instead of people associated with Sara.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar face glass by. He turned his head and saw Warden Henry Pope, arm linked with his wife, making his way down the wall aisle. He waved at someone and, offering his wife the seat first, slid into a middle pew. Pope glanced around, roving over all the faces. Michael instantly ducked into the fourth-to-last pew. The little girl in a lace dress cast a look at him, but she ignored him.

He bit his lip, anxiously bobbing his leg as his hands wrung the booklet. After a minute, he looked at it only to find a twisted and torn sliver of crinkled paper. Curiosity engulfed him; he smoothed the booklet out on his knee and stared down at the front cover. It was a cream, a sketch of the church at the top. Inscriptions in a fancy writing announced the ceremony. The Celebration of Marriage between Colin Thomas Miller and Sara Marie Tancredi on September 14, 2006. Seeing her name written beside the other man's caused anger to rise in his chest; he crunched the paper in his hand, gripping it tighter between his fingers. He set it in the empty space beside him, abandoning it, and turned towards the wedding.

As if on cue, the mahogany doors closed briefly, indicating that no more people were allowed to enter. Soft music began to play, the orchestra in the front directing the atmosphere into the prologue of the ceremony. A hush fell over the audience as they all turned to the doors. They slowly opened and revealed a line of people waiting. One by one, the bridesmaid and groomsmen proceeded down the aisle, beaming at the people. Each man, gently holding the arm of the woman in identical dresses, was dressed in a military uniform, colorful patches and medals peaking out from the morbid color. Three couples entered, quickly followed by a man Michael instantly recognized. Colin, in a uniform identical to his groomsmen, ushered down the aisle, holding the arm of his mother.

He joined the other men at the front and folded his hands, firmly planting his feet. His eyes fell on the doors in the back. A small boy, no older than five, trampled down the white-coated aisle, holding a plush pillow into the open air. The ring-bearer was followed immediately by two small girls, baskets of rose petals hanging on their arms. The girls, the ribbons in their hair swaying to the side, tossed the petals into the air, the delicate fabric tumbling to the floor. The girls reached their finished destination, baskets empty. All heads turned; people stood. Another lullaby picked up. The doors opened wide, a light breeze breathing out. Sun leaked in.

Michael nearly choked; Sara glided through the doorway on the arm of her father. Her heels barely peaked out from under the hem of her gown. The train crawled over the floor. Michael admired her. She positively glowed. Her gown, the purity of white, was strapless, a flowing earth green ribbon cascading down her waist. The top was expertly beaded, matching well with the few visible patterns of the lace. Her hair was in loose curls, her make-up fitting with the style choice, rolling across her porcelain shoulders. Her masqueraded eyes kept on Colin, her fingers wringing around the stem of the pink and white rose bouquet.

Her eyes swept over the faces she passed. Michael's face stood out. Her eyes widened slightly, but she remained calm and like a puppet. Her father urged her on, handing her off to Colin once the priest confirmed it. He asked everyone to be seated; in a wave the crowd sat. Sara passed her bouquet to her maid of honor then entwined her hands in Colin's, beaming at him as he whispered to her. Occasionally, her eyes picked out Michael in the back.

The priest, Bible in hand, bid the audience. "If there is anyone who has a reason why these two souls should not be joined in holy matrimony, please speak now or forever hold your peace."

Sara and Colin both looked over at the audience, daring anyone to stand. Sara looked a Michael, a part of her praying he wouldn't stand, but another part hoping he would. Michael licked his lips, but held in his words. He didn't stand. The priest nodded and continued. The ceremony flew smoothly, siting the many wedding traditions, until the I do's. Colin smiled at Sara and proclaimed his part of the vow. He heaved a held breath once the words were uttered, chuckling to himself. Everyone watched Sara expectedly

She hesitated, parting her lips to say the words. She faltered. Michael bowed his head again, feeling his heart rip deeper. This was killing him inside; he thought he would have the strength to sit through the entire thing, but in truth he didn't.

"And Sara, do you take this man to be your husband?" the priest repeated.

"Congratulations, Sara." Michael whispered.

With the praise said, he stood and exited the church. Sara noticed and watched him leave, feeling her heart tug. His figure loomed, until it disappeared completely. A lump lodged in her throat.

"I…" she began, eyes still trained on the door where Michael had left. She looked at Colin, who was waiting. "I…don't."

A chorus of gasps and questions echoed through the room, reverberating off the stone walls. Governor Tancredi stood angrily. Colin leaned forward. "What?"

"Colin, you're a great guy, but I fell in love years ago with another man. I let him walk out of my life. I tried to forget him and move on, but I can't. But now he's back and I've realized that I'm still that silly girl in love. It wouldn't be fair to you to continue with this marriage when I'm not really in it. It wouldn't. And I can't let him leave again. You'll find a spectacular girl, but it isn't me." She retracted her hands, sliding them out. "I'm sorry. But I have to go."

She picked up her dress and ran back down the aisle. She ignored the hundreds of people around her. She didn't care anymore. She didn't care about the people, she didn't care what her father would say, or what the media would say. This was her life and it was her decision. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stampeded down the stairs. She halted on the sidewalk, looking up and down the street. Her face was flushed; was she too late?

She desperately whirled around, growing increasingly scared she was too late. But then, right there to her left, she saw Michael. He was ambling down the sidewalk; hands balled in his pockets, kicking a rock like a soccer ball.

She smiled. "Hey Scofield." she called.

Michael, hearing the wind whistle his name, turned around. He stopped when he saw Sara running towards him. He stumbled slightly as she jumped into his arms. She hugged him tightly to her.

His eyes were questioning. "What are you doing? Your wedding—"

"Is not happening. Not to Colin to anyway." Sara finished.

Michael smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly to him. Sara smiled up at him, stroking his cheek. She leaned close to him, hovering teasingly over his lips. "How's this for the right moment?" she inquired.

Michael nodded. He cupped her face and brought her lips to his in a passionate kiss. He drew back, sliding his tongue across her bottom lip. Her eyes sweltered. "You owe me Baja." she said.

Michael laughed. Blue met brown. Velvet lips touched. Heels dangled in the air. Conjoined giggles pierced the air.

I wanted
I wanted you to stay
'Cause I needed
I need to hear you say
That I love you
I have loved you all along
And I forgive you
For being away for far too long
So keep breathing
'Cause I'm not leaving you anymore
Believe it
Hold on to me and, never let me go
Keep breathing

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