She was a foreign exchange student with beautiful hair, dark eyes, a cute accent, and to top it off she had a heavenly S line figure to match her already flawless beauty.
However as many dates as we went on, and regardless of the season, my eyes were always drawn to that red velvet ribbon around her slender neck...
On our wedding, I watched her walk down the aisle with the grace of a swan. Her blushing face glowing with youth and brimming with joy. She was wearing an exquisitely white gown that was ordained with the finest of pearls, her matching white veil concealed her face from view allowing for a sense of mystique to befall all in her presence. She was carrying a bouquet of white fully bloomed roses, even her face was a matching coral color. However, around that ivory neck, was the red velvet ribbon somehow undermining the flawless image I had taken in before me.
I remembered staring at that ribbon as my bride came close to my side, even as I read my vows and placed the ring on her finger I couldn't help but feel embarrassed by the curious and shocked looks on the faces of my family and our wedding guests.
As I locked eyes with my newly begotten wife, I couldn't help but notice as a single tear slid down her cheek.
When I saw her sorrow, I choose to push the velvet ribbon out of my mind for the remainder of our wedding day. After all it was a joyous time for us both, and if people thought it to be a bit strange for her to be wearing a red ribbon on her neck, then it would be advised that they kept it to themselves.
That night, when were finally alone to consummate our marriage, she slid out of her wedding dress and as she did I took in her naked form. I approached her, we kissed, and as we did my hands gently caressed her. She quivered and let out a pleasant moan. I lifted her face to place a kiss upon her neck when I realized that the red ribbon was still there, circling around her lovely neck.
"Won't you take that ribbon off from around your neck?" I asked, hoping she would make an exception, never once had I asked her to do this before, and since our night was -after all- a special one I expecting her to follow through with my request.
"You'll be sorry if I do," she replied, after a pause, she followed with a playful "so I won't."
As she nuzzled into my chest, I couldn't help but feel a bit disturbed by her answer, however I did not question her any further. There were more present matters at hand, plus now that we were married there would be plenty of time to fix the issue of the red ribbon later.
Our life together was a pleasant one, we had a lighthearted routine going on, and we were happy, especially after getting back from our honeymoon. Once we settled into our new home we were as joyous as a newly married couples could be.
I had found the perfect wife... well, nearly perfect.
She was always willing to please my eyes with her newly acquired dresses as well as with her collection of lingerie, going so far as to wearing a new one every day (and every night) this allowed for our relationship to remain lively and fresh.
The only thing that was dreadfully dull and aggravating in our relationship was how she never took that red velvet ribbon off of her neck!
This ribbon began to put a major strain in our marriage. Whenever I looked at her, my eyes would inevitably fall onto the red ribbon that was always around her neck. Whenever I kissed her, even as we made love, I could feel the ribbon tightening more and more around my own neck!
"Won't you please take that ribbon off from your neck?" I would ask her time and time again.
Even when we were out and about on our dates, while we were in town passing jeweler shops, I'd offer to buy her even the most luxurious of necklaces all in exchange for the ribbon she wore, but regardless of how fine the jewels I offered her were she always said...
"You'll be sorry if I do, so I won't."
This was always her answer. At first it teased me, I even used to find her response to be cute, but after a while it began to grate on my nerves, and before long her responses began to infuriate me.
"You'll be sorry if I do."
"You'll be sorry if I do."
"You'll be sorry if I ..."
One day, after she once again repeated her usual response, I went through with the request myself and tried to pull the ribbon off of her neck, when I did she pushed my hands away from her, and out of frustration I struck her, and from her lips she let out a startled yelp.
I couldn't help it, she was irritating me, her responses took on the likeness of that of a broken mechanical doll. One that had lost it's ability to utter significant phrases, and consequently had become stuck in a loop.
Maybe, I though to himself, if I struck her hard enough it would rattle the inside of her brain so she'd finally have the sense to let that damn ribbon loose from her neck!
At that moment I realized, that the ribbon would always be a continuous matter of thin ice between us. The ribbon had somehow become like a noose circled around the now gallow of a marriage.
I drew back from her in utter contempt, and since that day things were no never the same between us...
The following days at the breakfast table the ribbon seemed to mock me. The coffee my wife brewed, the sweets she baked, even her kisses all had a bitter after taste that lingered in my mouth.
One afternoon, as I sat in the patio silently taking in the beauty of the day. I noticed that the garden was in full bloom, even the birds had a song that soothed my troubled soul. It was pleasant, but once I noticed the red ribbon gleaming in the sunlight my mood soured, but as I saw my wife snipping at the dried up roses in the garden a newfound thought entered my mind...
As it grew dark and night fell, we gathered into the bedroom and prepared for bed. I watched as she snuggled under the sheets, she turned to me smiled and said, "I love you." and as she did she closed her eyes and trustingly falling asleep beside me.
However, I did not, and as she layed there I remained staring with utter hatred at the red ribbon around her neck. I had decided, since she was not willing to take off the ribbon herself, I would remove it for her.
While she rested soundly, with no idea of what I was about to do, I got out of bed and went over to grab the scissors from the dresser. The same ones I had seen her using not too long ago on the roses outside. I knew they were thin enough to slip between the velvet ribbon and her soft neck. Gripping the scissors, without waking her, I walked silently to her side of the bed and stood over. I bent over, and with one swift movement, I used the thin blade of the scissors, and with a triumphant snip I severed the ribbon that had come between us.
The ribbon fell away from my wife's neck, and in that instant her eyes opened, her lips parted and she quietly said.
"I...told...you...you'd...be...s o r r y."
As she weakly finished her sentence a new dotted line began to form on the area in which the, now removed ribbon, had always been. As it did she once again appeared to have drifted to sleep, but as I reached out to stir her awake. Her head didn't follow suit with her body's movements and as I lifted her now cold form, her head remaining where she had been silently resting before. With the sudden movements the fine dotted line became an ever growing red stain bringing to ruin the white sheets below it, the snow white sheets now the velvet red of the ribbon she always wore, and all the while her previous responses began playing over and over again in my head...
"You'll be sorry if I do."
As I cradled her now severed head within my arms I noticed as a single tear escaped and trailed down her cheek, and in that instant I was reminded of the similar tear that she had shed at our wedding day.
