A revelation in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
via Daily Prompt: Cringe
Of all the inappropriate places. Why here, why now. We, as one hold our heads in our hands, as he made the declaration, that declaration. She watched along with the rest of us, dismayed, as her newly wed husband came clean and announced to all and sundry, what many among us, had long suspected, but never said. Always was, always would be, an outright homosexual, he declared. That was it, out in the open. He happily announced he had found a new, and hopefully happy relationship with his new male lover, that would last for years, if life went to plan. With that he smiled broadly and sat down.
‘Why’, she screamed, pushing the chair back roughly from the top table, pushing the wedding cake in front of her from the table, where it collapsed in a heap on the floor.
‘Why now, you bastard , why have you deceived me ? . Her face red, her arms spread wide. He stepped back, the fear evident in his eyes. He had expected a reaction, but not such an emotionally charged reaction. Mistakenly he had taken her to be soft and accepting, open to new experiences, and adventures. But this was one adventure she wanted no part of. One experience she’d rather not participate in.
‘You have wasted my time, my life,why ?’, she screamed again. Her anger reverberating around the small ballroom. The room and assembled group , deadly quiet. Stunned into silence.
‘Who is it ?’, she demanded. ‘Who is it ?’, she repeated again, as she moved towards the retreating figure of her wide eyed new husband. The invited guests watched quietly as the soap like drama unfolded before them. Some looked away, others ingested their drinks, trying to comes to terms with what they watching. He stuttered, searching for words, but none were forthcoming.
She used the glass she was about to toast his speech with, and hurled it at him. He ducked, and she missed. The silver colored champagne filled glass falling to the floor. The knife they were to cut the wedding cake together with, found itself in her hands, as if by some magical process. Charging towards him, the knife found his chest soft to the touch, and it slipped in easily. He fell to the floor ,as the guests watched, transfixed by the drama, clutching his chest, blood seeping gently from the deep wound..
The dj had stopped the music.In the silence he like the others watched the drama unfold before him. The sun shone through the french windows into the small ballroom,and the assembled guests. She stood back from her husband, and watched his breathing slowly subside and eventually cease. She retrieved the knife from his chest. His blood dripping slowly from the wedding knife she held by her side.