The dress hugged her in all the right places, accentuating her figure as she moved. Heads turned toward her, glances exchanged in awe. Her heels clicked softly against the floor, almost rhythmically, her eyes sparkling with something I couldn’t name. Yet.
She gazed across the aisle, a faint grin tugging at her lips. Plastic. Fake. Yet beautiful nonetheless.
Her makeup matched the tone of her skin, making her glow in the light. Her hair was tied in a neat bun on her head, with a few stray strands framing her face.
My eyes swept over her body as she approached the altar, drinking in every detail I could catch. The nearer she drew, the more her perfume filled the air around me. Sweet. Intoxicating.
She looked even prettier than she had on the night of the gala. And deep down, I was proud. I wouldn’t admit it, but I was.
The girl might not have come from a powerful family, nor did she have any political affiliations. But she was smart, more so than most people realized.
Beyond the physical attraction, there was something about the potential she had that pulled me in. I couldn’t explain it, even if I tried. It was just there.
She joined me at the altar and stood by my side. Without saying a word, we both faced each other, and the ceremony began.
“Dearly beloved,” the priest’s voice echoed off the high walls. “We are gathered here….”
When it was time for the vows, she went first. Her voice was steady as she spoke them. Quietly. Precisely. The expression on her face was flat, the gentle rise and fall of her chest hinting at the anxiety she tried to hide.
The words came out in the correct order, but without inflection, without any weight.
When it was my turn, I said them once, meaning every word in a way that applied to my world.
Before the priest joined us finally, I saw something flash in her eyes. Defeat.
“With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
She swallowed hard, a bead of cold sweat trickling down the side of her head.
“You now kiss the bride.”
Her breath hitched, and her body stiffened reflexively. She looked into my eyes, as if begging me to keep the physical contact to a minimum.
I placed my hand around her waist, gently pulling her into my arms. She held my gaze, her red lips parted and slightly trembling. I leaned in, about to seal our union with a kiss, when she closed her eyes.
Instead of kissing her lips, I went for her forehead. Soft. Gentle.
By the time she opened her eyes again, I’d backed away and was already facing the small crowd. Scattered applause filled the air, and all eyes were on the newlyweds.
I caught her staring at me out of the corner of my eye. Perhaps she was shocked that I went for her forehead instead of her lips. She probably didn’t expect me to be sensitive enough to pull a stunt like that.
Good.
I liked to be unpredictable.
***
Later that night, I stood on the balcony outside Ellie’s bedroom, swirling a glass of red wine. I’d shed my jacket, leaving my crisp white undershirt, untucked and loose.
The top three buttons were undone, and my now unknotted bowtie drooped around my neck, its two ends hanging unevenly. I drew a deep breath, fingers curling around the steel railing as I sipped from my glass.
Below, the city sprawled indifferently, alive and still buzzing with activities. The air carried the scent of fresh flowers from the garden nearby, the moonlight silvering everything it touched.
I stood under the cold, distant stars, my mind reeling with a thousand thoughts. My bride was in the bathroom; she’d been in there for over an hour now.
She wasn’t going to hide in there forever. Sooner or later, she’d step out and face her new reality. And I’d be here. Waiting.
I drained the rest of the wine down my throat and set the glass down. When I turned around, about to go back into the room for a refill, our eyes locked.
