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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Romance/Love · #1851264
The best man at a wedding is in love with the bride to be
She walks down the aisle on her father’s arm; a veil covers her face, concealing her emerald eyes. I want to rip it away but as the best man that’s not in my job description. He gently lifts it and her flowing red tresses fall across her shoulders. He gives her a smile and a wink. A wink. That’s just like him, smiles, winks, and a knife in your back. Although, I think in my case it was a knife through the heart while he smiled and winked right to my face. Maybe he even thanked me for the introduction. She did.

She walked in that bar on my arm, just like she walked in the church on her father’s, just like she will walk out on his. As soon as he opened his mouth that night, to congratulate me on getting a pretty girl to show her face with me in public, I could feel her start to slip away.

Now she’s there, right there, only a few feet from me, but truly a world away. I can’t reach her; I never could, not even that night she showed up with a bruise on her cheek, a perfect imprint of his class ring. I wanted to kill him then but I didn’t, I couldn’t, because I knew I’d really be killing her too. Instead I comforted her and tried to convince her to end things. She didn't. So I stand here and watch her vow to give herself wholly to a man that will never deserve her, never love her like I do.

The priest asks if there is any reason these two should not be united. Yes, I scream inside, but I don’t open my mouth because I see that look in her eye and I know she isn’t here. She’s not with me or anyone else in this church. She’s in a world with room only for two.

I bite my tongue until the metallic taste of blood floods my mouth. Two words are spoken, two words in two voices spoken as one, two words that bring the whole world crashing down around me. I do.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1851264