Bed of Lies (ON HOLD)

I

May 2018

PRESENT

The doors open, the organ sounds and everyone stands while I–adorned with a forced smile on my heavily made-up face–march into the cathedral, even though the motion could best be described as stumbling down the aisle in the most awkward manner possible.

I see him standing at the altar, waiting for me. But he doesn't seem too happy. In fact if I were honest, he seems quite miserable. There is no smile nor hint of anticipation on his hardened face and it wedges a crack in my heart. It's a good thing the pain is not enough to shatter the fragile organ in pieces as having a breakdown in the presence of invited guests is certainly not ideal of a bride.

Well, there goes my long-life dream of watching my husband tear up in joy when he sees me walking towards him on our wedding day.

Ma is in the front pulpit on my right and I catch her wipe a few tears away. She is only crying for pretences, I know that much. My mother would never genuinely cry for anyone but herself. And maybe the man she's married to. At least at one time, she did.

Yet, I also know that she is a bit saddened as she is here alone, no matter how hard she denies that she does not care. The obvious reason is the fact that my father did not attend, and not because he isn't fit enough to take such a long flight like he explained to my husband to be. He instead blatantly refused to, in his own words, 'bless an abominable union' or 'grace the marriage ceremony of a disgusting thief'.

I should be hurt by his words, but they don't matter to me. Not when I will soon and finally repossess what I've dreamt of for years. Being disowned by my father is just a small token to pay. I'd rather be disowned by both my parents than to lose him again. I had made that mistake twice before and it was never going to happen again.

We will be together forever.

To soothe the pain eating me up from inside, I turn my eyes to the only smiling face on the altar. The best-man looks exceptionally clean and polished even more than usual, which is something to note as there is never a detail out of place on the man judging from the day we first met. His beautiful face radiates a bright light in the midst of everything else that proves bleak and I am glad his smile is for me.

In truth, if I had not fallen for Anthony, I don't think I would have ever said no to Walter. The man was fine as hell and would have made a good first choice if his childhood friend were not in the way.

Tony was always number one back in school. The two boys often fought over everything so that all they did equalled some sort of competition. It came as a tremendous surprise to everyone that they formed bonds as best friends, especially since Walter was famous for his cold character. If I were him, I know I wouldn't be able to keep up appearances as all I'd want to do is get rid of the idiot always stealing my spot.

What if he had thought that way before? I suck in my bottom lip as I ponder and feel the chalky substance on my tongue, aware that I have slopped off part of the lipstick I am wearing.

But then again, Walter has never been the jealous type. I think in response to my question. He is adept at keeping a competition fierce and going strong more than anything. I am not sure it is in him to haul a person out of his way by causing their end like I did.

Clara.

I force out the thoughts that begin to pile in my head, tugging at the emotions of guilt I have submerged eons below the reach of my conscience.

Just march Cara. You're getting there. I cheer myself up, refusing to give in to the darkness that could, when given the opportunity fully well drown me.