The Wedding
by Nicola
(South Australia)
"I give it three months," muttered Miriam to her husband as the glowing bride walked up the aisle.
"Quiet Miriam, for heaven's sake. Not now." Roger looked decidedly uncomfortable. As always, Miriam was being negative. She peered around his shoulder, "Got to be at least twenty years difference."
"So what if there is. It doesn't mean anything." Roger stared straight ahead at his work colleague, and his proud face beneath greying hair drinking in the vision that drifted toward him. Roger's eyes took in the family in the front pews. The groom's kids didn't look too impressed either.
"Look at her. A bit too much cleavage for a bride don't you think?"
"Shut up Miriam. She's stunning. Why do you have to be such an old hag?" As the bride took her place beside her husband to be, Miriam continued. "Looks like she opens her legs to everyone, that one. How many of your colleagues did she sleep with before nabbing Patrick?" Roger flushed hotly and declined to answer.
The bride and groom turned slightly to face the congregation, so that all who viewed them could share in their day. Cameras flashed. Patrick couldn't take his eyes off her. The bride smiled in satisfaction and glanced around the church. For a moment, her eyes met Roger's. He adjusted his tie.
Miriam tugged at his jacket sleeve. "Roger!" she hissed, sit down!" He realised he was still standing. He flushed even more and seated himself quickly. Perspiration formed on his brow. The bride glanced his way again, then looked down. Roger fidgeted in his seat. He could feel Miram staring at him. He refused to look in her direction.
As if from a distance, he heard the priest's words, "Does anyone here know of any impediment as to why …" Roger stood up. Gulped. Swallowed and stepped into the aisle.
"Er … my wife gives it three months Your Honour."
"Roger!" Agitated, Miriam stood up and grabbed her husband by the sleeve. "Sorry everyone! Roger, come home now!" she tried to drag him away, her own face now flaming.
The priest spoke, "Sir. I am not a judge. There is no need to address me as "Your Honour". Do you have a valid reason, why these two cannot marry?" The groom looked thunderous; the bride blushed. Roger peeled off Miriam's clutching hand.
"Yes sir. I happen to agree with my wife. This marriage won't last three months. It shouldn't be happening at all. The bride does not love the groom."
Gasps of shock rocked the congregation. As the groom started down the steps toward him, the bride stopped him, and whispered something urgently in his ear. Roger shook himself free of his wife and walked to the front of the church. "The bride is in love with me. We have been in a relationship for the last two years. I was a coward, and refused to leave my wife."
Patrick pulled away from his bride, clearly shocked. She stood with her head bowed, shamed before all. Roger continued, "But seeing her here today. Seeing how perfect and beautiful she is, has made me realise what a mistake I have made." He got down on one knee before all.
"Laura, please don't marry Patrick. Marry me."
"You can't do this!" screeched Miriam, furious, her hands balled by her side.
"Shut up Miriam." Called Roger over his shoulder dismissively, "I saw my lawyer last week. The divorce papers will be served on you Monday."
With that, the bride burst into happy tears, and ran towards Roger, who now stood with open arms.
The shocked silence from the crowd was interrupted by Miriam.
"I give it three months."