The Wedding Day
Deborah knew this was wrong. After all, she had slept with Danny the night before; how could she marry Simon after that? She would start her marriage with a big fat lie that would fester beneath the surface, poisoning everything. What the hell was she doing?
The bride’s car arrived, gleaming under the unexpectedly bright morning sun. As she stepped into the car, the reality of the situation slammed into her like a physical blow. She asked the driver, almost pleadingly, to take the longest route. She needed more time, just a few more minutes to somehow unravel the tangled mess she’d created.
Tony, her father, held her hand, his touch rough and reassuring. He was so proud, so happy. How could she shatter that? She forced a smile as they finally pulled up to the church grounds, the imposing stone structure a monument to the commitment she was about to make – a commitment built on deceit.
“Tony, I can’t,” she blurted out, the words escaping like a desperate whisper. The ornate stained-glass windows seemed to mock her, their colours swirling into a dizzying kaleidoscope of guilt. She just wanted to run away, to disappear into the anonymity of the city, far away from the church, Simon, Danny, and the crushing weight of her actions.
“Okay, Deb, well, just sit here a minute,” Tony said, his brow furrowing with concern. He squeezed her hand again, his eyes filled with love and worry. He knew her better than anyone, but could he imagine the truth?
Tony got out of the car and walked over to Alan and Dave, Simon’s best men standing nervously near the entrance, straightening their ties. They looked at Tony with concern. Alan, ever the pragmatic one, was the first to speak. “Everything alright, Tony?”
“Just nerves, that’s all,” Tony said, his voice a little too loud and forced. He hoped he sounded convincing. He didn’t want to alarm anyone, not yet.
Dave, however, was less easily fooled. He’d always been acutely observant, picking up on subtleties others missed. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked back at the car and then at Tony. “Not Danny, then?” he asked, the question hanging in the air like a threat.
Tony’s face flushed crimson. He looked at them both, his expression a mixture of sadness and disbelief. “Don’t even go there,” he said, his voice tight with suppressed worry. The situation was already delicate enough without Dave stirring the pot. He knew Deborah still loved Danny. She was fooling herself into thinking she was in love with Simon, but Danny? She had always loved. He couldn’t imagine this situation could get any worse. He couldn’t be more wrong.
Thank You for Read
Deborah C. Langley
A Piece from the book Love Lust and Lies
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