Love at first fight

Say I do

She envisaged a perfect marriage; with a love so strong that it consumed her, and make her question how she had ever lived without them. 

She had always found love stories to be a tragic woe, one of which she did not believe she would ever be fortunate enough to grasp. She found that coming from a childhood of divorced parents and endless feuds, that romance was merely for the pages of a good book. It was make believe, a story that was told to give individuals a sense of belonging, and hope for their long future.  Her mother had spent days, weeks even sobbing against the linen bed sheets as an eight year old Lena cradled her broken frame. Her father had ensured that what was left of their family was in shatters. She had not forgiven him for the way he had left, and the woman he had chosen to abandon them for. 

Perhaps this was where her resentment started, knowing that if her own father could not love her, then she could not expect anyone to. Love started from within, and Lena had no problem ensuring her own self love. She had been fairly confident, and this was what Jackson had first noticed about her.

Hues lingered longingly from across the bar, a signal of a raised wrist, glass in the air and a flirtatious smile. Her eyes locked with his, holding for a moment longer than intended before looking down with a soft chuckle to herself. She had experienced men with a similar aurora, and normally she would not give it the time of day. However, with a little more liquor in her glass, and a little bit of Dutch courage,  Lena was feeling generous. With a flick of her wrist, she signalled him over to join her.

Hours felt like minutes, and the conversation was pleasant; comforting even. She had not had many who seemed as interested in her personal life.  In conversations with many acquaintances, she often worried she was boring them. Her life was far from the expectations, and it was hardly considered light conversation. She did not normally divulge either, knowing that it triggered memories that she had always vowed to keep under wraps ; for her benefit and the benefit of others. The scars remained hidden, and for good reason. She liked to hold the posture of a brave and confident attire, and when considering such dark matters, this would not be the case.

Months turned into years, and Jackson and Lena had found themselves engaged. It was an exciting time for the couple ; families were overjoyed that their families would finally become one. Lena did not hold fondness towards the fuss; and in which they had decided on an intimate wedding. The day had been exactly what they had envisaged, a day to celebrate the couples union and love. 

At least, it was until the following morning.

By natural sunlight, Lena awoke to the deafening silence of a darkened and empty room. Eyes winced slightly to focus upon the curtains that shuffled slightly in the wind. With a stifled yawn, Lena reached over to grasp her husband. Arms reached out, searching for the man she loved to find nothing. 

"Jackson?" 

Shuffling to the side of the bed, Lena wiped the sleep from the corners of her eyes before switching on the bedside lamp.  Standing to her feet, with a wince at the cold tiles against her toes, Lena called out again, only to be met by the echo coming from the empty hall.

That was when she spotted it, a folded piece of paper on the night stand.

Reaching out, Lena unfolded it and winced to read the writing that appeared before her.

"I'm sorry --- don't come looking for me. It's not you, it's me."