This story is by Melissa Roos and was part of our 2024 Fall Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.
The last chord of the song reverberated through the sweltering summer air, a haunting echo that lingered as the organist turned her pages with ritualistic precision.
A charged silence enveloped the room as time seemed to pause. The sanctuary door creaked open, and Nicole emerged into the candle-lit room, commanding everyone’s attention. Heads turned for a first glimpse. The congregation held their breath to see a vision poised on the brink of a timeless moment.
A few indiscreet gasps were audible. But a hiss of – “What is she doing here?” drifted across the room.
Aware of their attention, she gracefully closed the door behind her, undeterred. She had to witness this for herself, or she would never believe it.
Her tanned skin glistened, offset by the delicate white dress, a vision in white. Her heart echoed, “You should have worn black,” but it was a wedding, not a funeral.
Nicole’s hair was pinned loosely, with wisps delicately framing her face. She looked angelic against the soft glow of the candles.
“An angel in white, a devil in disguise,” the comment floated toward her. “What is she thinking?”
She shouldn’t be here.
Nicole scanned the sanctuary, her gaze flitting over bouquets of red roses and bows draped on pews. Her eyes fell on the groom at the altar – Eric.
Looking sophisticated in his black tuxedo, his soulful brown eyes held her captive, revealing a lifetime of unspoken longing. Even from a distance, she noticed the beads of sweat on his upper lip, showing his simmering passion and anxiety – all intertwined.
Desperately wishing time would stand still, she wanted to hold onto this moment before her whole world changed.
She felt a touch on her arm. The usher’s eyes met hers, “You look beautiful.”
She blinked, acknowledging his comment.
“I always thought it would be you. It should be you,” he corrected, then nudged her forward, tugging lightly on her arm.
It took every fiber in her being to let him guide her – away. Away from the aisle, away from her true love. Her heart split into jagged shards – making it hard for her to breathe.
She was aware of everyone’s attention, hanging on her every movement.
“Don’t make a scene,” the usher murmured out of the side of his mouth.
He sounded like her mother.
“Why not?” she questioned. “You said it yourself – it should be me.”
“He’s made his choice,” he muttered. “Don’t make it more difficult on him.”
She nodded slightly despite the price she paid to let him lead her to an empty seat. The congregation waited on bated breath as she was tucked efficiently into the row.
The organist played the processional, filling the church with a powerful melody. The congregation stood. The grand doors reopened, and the bridesmaids entered in sheer, red gowns that shimmered delicately, making her slightly nauseous. To her, it was a blur of blood-red and gray haze, the world around her dissolving into insignificance.
Nicole’s eyes stayed locked on Eric, daring him to make a move, to send a signal – anything so that she knew it wasn’t too late.
The bride, Lisa – she could barely think her name, let alone utter it – descended the aisle at a painstakingly fast clip in a flurry of white, her dress a cascade of fluttering lace and satin. Red petals swirled around her as she rushed forward. Her father struggled to keep pace, fearing the groom might vanish if she didn’t reach him quickly.
Eric’s gaze shifted from Nicole, his expression changing from adoration to bitter resignation as he focused on the incoming bride.
A cruel whisper behind Nicole cut through the tension, “The groom looks like he’s attending his own wake.”
Those words pierced what was left of her heart, and tears brimmed in her eyes as she faced the impending devastation. Desperately chanting to herself, “Don’t cry.”
Nicole couldn’t stop the tears from blurring her vision. She focused on Eric, and in that agonizing silence, her heart quietly pleaded for a way to undo it all.
She sat perched on the edge of her seat, her purse desperately clutched in her hands. What was inside could change everything – if he only knew.
Should she stop the wedding? Should she announce to the whole congregation that his bride-to-be was lying? That she wasn’t pregnant with his child but was using this lie to manipulate and control him? It was all right here, in a sealed envelope with his name neatly scripted on it.
With a visible sigh, Eric turned away from her toward Lisa, the alter, and his impending future.
In that instant, Nicole understood… He had made his choice, and it wasn’t her.
A large pit formed when she realized she had lost this battle and every significant tug-of-war before that.
Eric had taken defeat to a new level – this was his penance, caving into Lisa’s demands and her threats.
Nicole was disgusted that he hadn’t even insisted on seeing the test results and made no effort to disprove Lisa’s claim. Of course, he didn’t have to – Nicole had them right here. He could see them now. The results were practically burning a hole through her purse. She could stop this. All she had to do was slip her hand inside and retrieve them.
Wait. What was going on? She quickly came back to reality. She was losing track of what was happening around her. They were exchanging vows. Why didn’t he stop this whole charade? Didn’t he still love her?
The chance to reveal the truth seemed to be slipping away, leaving her with the crushing realization that it was too late to make things right. If she could go back, she only needed a minute to explain, to make him understand. She should have forgiven him when she had the chance – then maybe things would have been different, and she wouldn’t be sitting here now.
She watched in agonizing silence as he slipped the gold band on the bride’s finger, and Nicole’s own heart turned to stone.
It was too late.
As the pastor announced them as Mr. and Mrs., she felt the air sucked from her lungs. She deflated like a punctured balloon, feeling like nothing more than a hollow shell of herself.
She watched in horror as he tentatively kissed the bride, and the entire place erupted in applause. She was the only one not celebrating, the only one who knew the truth.
The new couple walked by as the organist pounded out the last song. A fleeting image of her sticking out her foot and tripping the bride as they went by flashed through her mind. But she didn’t do it. She couldn’t be that cruel.
It was over. Lisa had won this battle. The fire inside Nicole was snuffed out.
She wanted to bolt, but her mother’s words resonated in her mind: “Don’t make a scene.” She always did what she was told, her upbringing religiously ingrained in her.
Nicole needed to get through the receiving line and out of the building with her dignity intact for her mother and herself. Besides – there was no place to escape. Pushed along by the guests, she resigned herself to getting through it.
She plastered on a fake smile, congratulated their parents, and reached Lisa. Her gut wrenched.
Lisa’s hands snaked out instantly, latching onto Nicole. Lisa held her in an embrace so tight that it was meant to stifle, to intimidate. Lisa’s fingers dug into the flesh on her back, and she hissed into Nicole’s ear one last dig, “I won. You’ll never have him now.” Unable to suppress a cruel giggle, Lisa released her.
With great effort, she moved on to Eric. His passionate gaze reignited a tiny spark within her. One that nothing could squelch.
Without so much as a word, he enfolded her into a hug. The tiny flame was fanned. That comforting moment with his arms around her, the warmth of his body, the beat of his heart as he pressed into her said more than words could.
Without warning, words were murmured only for her, “I’ll always love you.”
“And I, you,” she whispered against his neck. His hand ran down her arm and clasped her hand fiercely. She pulled away, severing their bond even though the flame burned brighter now.
“Nicole.” He said her name as if every emotion, longing, and hope hung on it. The fire within her simmered to the surface.
Her heart pounding, she stepped aside toward the exit and didn’t look back.
She hesitated as she passed the gift table, the flame flickering bright inside her. What could she do? With a fierce resolve, she reached into her purse and pulled out the crisp white envelope. With a steady hand, she placed the envelope on the table. She may have lost this battle, but the war was far from over.
This was only the beginning.
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