The moment I stepped out I crashed into a warm body that smelled like lilies, "Charlie." He gently wrapped his strong arms around me. I wasn't aware of how much I had needed that. Charlie led me away from the room.
He sat me down at one of the pews at the front of the Church. Some relatives came to say hello but others stayed distant. I could care less what they thought of me at the moment because all that should have mattered was Charlie beside me.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Charlie asked after one of my great aunts had left her number on a slip of paper in Charlie's hand which I had ripped to shreds after she was out of sight.
"We talked about you," I remembered Alex's frantic behavior, "he doesn't quite approve of you."
"I don't want to cause any fights," Charlie started.
"There were always fights. Don't worry about it. He doesn't even know you."
He smirked, "How much do you know about me?"
"Besides name and occupation," my slender fingers tapped on my chin, "your anatomy. That's a lot," I winked. Charlie was surprised and gave me a chuckle.
His fingers stopped mine from tapping on my chin and he rested our hands on his leg. Before anymore conversation could happen I heard the sound of the piano playing here comes the bride.
I glance at the front of the room where Alex is staring past all the guests at the entrance. His best man looked bored and the maid of honor was occupied with her nails.
Then I turned right and caught a glimpse of Monica stumbling down the aisle with a vice grip on her father who was trying his best not to show any pain. He wasn't masking it very well. The small drops of sweat running down his face and his teeth biting into his lower lip were obvious indications.
Monica flashed me a big fake smile before a little more stumbling until she finally made it onto the altar. She almost tripped but thanks, not really, to Alex she didn't fall. She simply flashed a small white thong my way before smoothing down her hooker dress. She turned her bony back to the audience. Let the ceremony begin.
The priest began spouting some crap about forever when Monica answered I do. That's when all Hell broke loose.
There was a loud boom where the two grand wooden double doors had crashed into the wall. A tall man dressed in a dirty smudged blue polo and khaki pants stumbled down the aisle. There were collective gasps from the crowd. One wedding guest started fanning herself profusely shocked at the interruption. This man still had a half empty beer clutched in one hand that sloshed messily while he made his way down the aisle. His eyes were red and swollen most likely from crying. Once he reached the soon to be wedded couple he dropped to his knees.
"Monica," he sobbed, "don't get married. I-I," hiccup, "love you!" His confession was heartfelt and apparently Monica felt it too; just not the same way he did.
She slapped him hard across the face and screeched, "How dare you! On my wedding day that's meant to be perfect!" She would have also dropped to her knees like the drama queen she was but that would mean exposing herself to all of us. Instead Alex embraced her and smoothed her hair down.
The father of the bride grabbed the drunken man by the collar and hauled him out. Monica and Alex left for a moment to calm down.
The wedding hall erupted into furious whispers and Oh Lords. I looked at Charlie who looked as shocked as me. Everyone was too focused on finding out who the man was rather than paying attention to Monica's almost wedding coming to a screeching halt.
I felt it my duty to pursue the reason for the man barging in even if it was only for satisfaction on my part. I pulled Charlie along.
"Not the typical wedding, huh?" My smug smile crept onto my face.
