Four Dead Wives

The Drowning

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Spoonfuls of moon reflect in Andy's dark eyes, they examine my movements with desire. I trace my fingers across his chiselled jaw, take in the beauty of all his features. A gust of chilly breeze sweeps through the night. It meanders through the boat and strokes my bare arms.

It whips Andy's dark, chocolate hair around. I laugh and run my fingers though the strands, and he pulls me closer until his hot breath is tingling the hairs on my neck. His arms envelop me, his eyes still tracking me intensely. I bury my face into his chest.

"You're beautiful, Julie.' I hear him whisper. 'I'm the luckiest man to have married you.'

"Aww, Andy, you're the sweetest. I love you." He tightens his grip and I turn so we both face the glossy lake. The water dances with the milky reflection of the full moon. The boat rocks gently across it. My wedding dress spills over the edges and caresses the water at the sides. Peace and silence is in the air.

He was right for coming to this place. This is what we needed, to be alone. My mother wasn't exactly keen regarding my marriage to Andy, and the little bit of family he still has couldn't pretend to care less. So what would they care, he said, if we left the church after the ceremony and drove up to this place, to be alone.

I agreed and thought the handful of sleepy faced attendants wouldn't mind our departure, so we got into the Toyota Supra, Andy in his wedding suit and I in my wedding dress, and drove off. Andy said he knew a place— just for us. He drove with his eyes straight ahead, occasionally turning his head to smile a wide smile at me.

After about a half hour drive we pulled up on the highway, the woods adjacent. I got out of the car and let him guide me through the darkness and across the uneven ground. We snaked our way past long, shadowy silhouettes which I recognised to be trees. I had to manoeuvre my wedding dress through all the branches and weeds I thought might be there.

I didn't care if it got dirty; a second hand improvisation from a shop in the centre of London. Neither mine nor Andy's parents could lend us any money for the wedding. We only had each other (and a very poor each other, in that case) to rely on. So the wedding dress was fine.

Andy's suit was given to him by his father. It's a little large here and there, but he said all he needed was me and nothing else preoccupied him.

We walked until the trees revealed a glossy shimmer, murky and moving. The lake, lit by moonlight. Andy guided me to a large shadow. A small wooden boat, with one paddle laid across it. I laughed at the sight, "are we gonna row?' I said, but Andy laughed and embraced me. "No," he said, "I am."

And here I am, sitting in Andy's arms in my wedding dress, hoping the night can stretch on forever. My eyes start to droop and my mind starts to drift. I would love to fall asleep here, wake up to a bloody sunrise. Andy's breathing slows, perhaps he already is sleeping.

The time of our first date plays in my head: the wind brushing past my light brown hair. Andy complimenting my rosy cheeks and green eyes at a table outside a small café. I had a croissant. It was so flaky and good...

As I close my eyes, Andy's arms tighten around me. I lay my head across his chest, on the white shirt his friend lent him. I feel his heartbeat, pulsing constantly in my ear. Then it speeds up. Each breath is shorter. Quicker. I might have woken him, caused him to stir around.

But after some time it stays that way, rapid breaths and racing heart. I turn to look at him. He's sweating. His eyes are lost somewhere in the distance. They're glassy. Is he tearing up? "Are you ok?' I ask.

"Yeah." He says, attempting to hide a tremble in his voice. "I'm fine." I sit up and look at him, fully now.

"Andy. What's the matter?"

"Nothing... nothing." He waves me off, his hands are shaking. He wraps one hand around my waist, the other running through my hair. "You're beautiful," he says. "I love you so, so much." I don't know how to respond to him. "You know that I love you, right?"

"Yeah." I whisper, suspicion still evident on my face.

"Good. Good." A quiver of a smile spreads across his face. A teardrop runs down his cheek. "Good." he says, one last time. He leans in to hug me. I'm a little hesitant at first. The rocking of the boat is distracting now. In an end I wrap my arms around him.

His hands snake around my waist and embrace my bony back, then they tighten like a knot and don't let go. "Andy," I breathe, "that's a little tight." He doesn't seem to listen to me, he is rigid, his arms still tightening. "Andy." I say, beginning to push back.

"I love you Julie. I love you. I love you." He repeats this phrase until it comes out forced. He is crushing me. I try to pull back, then to push him back, but my strength doesn't compete. "Stop it!" I scream. "What's wrong with you?"

"I love you— I'm sorry."

Andy walks forward with me struggling in his arms, rocking the boat more violently. "No!" I scream. He leans forward, almost stumbling on my wedding dress, then rebalances himself and gives out a cry.

"I'm sorry Julie!"

I can't fight him. Andy releases his grip on me, and before I can do anything he barges into me, knocking all the wind out as I fall backwards. Everything is a blur. Everything slows down between the moment I fall and hit the water. Everything I've known blurs.

Then it speeds up again, faster than anything as I crash through the surface. Icy cold water engulfs me at once, a deafening roar of bubbles is all I can hear in the muffled darkness. I kick my legs and arms helplessly. The wedding dress is too heavy, too layered and robust, like a chain I can't get off; it pulls me down and I scream.

A burst of water floods my mouth, my throat and my lungs, everything. And the water silences. It calms as I'm no longer struggling to fight against it. The shaky reflection of a moon is all I can see on the surface. It distances and drifts away, slowly.

And everything becomes murky and pitch black.