Bed of Lies (ON HOLD)

III

A loud gasp escapes from my lips, sweeping through the half-empty room at the sound of Tony's voice, just as I instinctively struggle to break loose from Walter's tight clasp. My captor however surprises me by refusing to lift his arms from the position they are locked around my hips and waist. He seems to not care unlike me.

Even though we were doing nothing wrong, I feel an odd sense of guilt and it makes me want to remedy the situation by all means possible. And the first step of course is to address the man holding onto me when he shouldn't be. "Walter?"

"I asked, are you alright?" He says to me but spares neither a glance nor the slightest forming of attention in Tony's direction. I, on the other hand, stir quite visibly underneath Walter's severe gaze while also anticipating the outpour of my love's anger in unpredictable torrents.

"Yes." I slow my breaths by sucking in the bleach-stained air through my lips. "Yes I am. Thank you. You can let me go now." My smile is shaky and fake when he straightens me up on my feet before fully letting go. Then he reluctantly turns just as I also to face a visibly irritated Tony.

"Tony. We have been waiting." He grins with a certain innocence to the facial expression while he doles out a meaningful look that I am yet again unable to understand.

Somehow Walter has become notorious for secretive as well as confusing mediums of communication, and coming to terms with this new characteristic of his is not something I am quite ready for.

Tony in stark contrast to me–with my carefully camouflaged nescience–seems to have understood the unspoken thoughts as he does not utter a word more. He instead places a pink and short bandage dress on the bed, then offers an outstretched hand to me.

I cross over to his side and tentatively place an open fist in his large palm. Unconsciously, I note how manly he is even in the littlest details. Right in his hand, mine which has never been the littlest seems so positively small and almost dwarfed by his larger bone structure.

"What were you–"

"The priest is here." Walter announces just as the rotund cleric ambles into the room, cutting off the words Tony was about to utter. I let my shoulders sag in relief as there is no doubt–from the tone of Tony's voice–that whatever he had to say would have been angry and demanding.

"Peace be with you."

"And with your spirit." I do not reply, but the men beside me return the greeting to the priest even though there lies not a single difference in their tones when compared to those in mourning.

"We shall continue from where we left off and it is possible as we have a witness here; for there will be no breaking of the church rules whatsoever." He gestures at Walter with a rosary clasped in his hand and I pretend to look behind me, but only so I can roll my eyes freely.

People who pretend to be righteous tick me off the wrong way. I mean, to an extent, I have no right to judge as I am hardly any better. But it does piss me off when people overdo things just to keep up with their charade.

The clergyman is exactly one of those people. This fact indeed is as clear as broad daylight. Yet, he keeps up the false display even though we all know his honest motives. There is truly no other reason to his being here except for the highly treasured and reverenced green paper. Thinking otherwise would be deceiving oneself.

"We went through most of the important rites already and since there were no objections to your marriage, I now pronounce you husband and wife." I direct my attention at Tony and with a hint of shyness, I notice he has been staring at me while I had been too focused on the official. "You may kiss your bride if you wish to." He adds as if we were novices.