Love of my life (Five minutes freewrite)

The bride looks amazing, her dress so simple, yet so elegant and the blond locks falling heavily down her shoulders, her whole face radiating the happiness of the moment. There were no vows, cause woes can be broken, she said and no one contradicted her, least of all her groom who feels he’s the luckiest man alive.
The short service is over and everyone is relieved it went down smoothly. For months now, they’ve all walked on egg-shells around Bea, lest she found something, anything upsetting and backed out of the whole deal. Most of all her Mom, Miriam, who dared not dream the day will come to see her little one so happy, so safe, for that’s what they all see in Gerald, someone who’ll know how to hold on tight to Bea and chase the bad dreams away.
They all rush to kiss the bride’s flushed cheeks, while the men pat the beaming groom on his broad shoulders and the older folks, relatives no one has seen for the past 15 years give him the odd inappropriate wink, which Gerald tries to ignore. There won’t even be a wedding night, if that’s what they’re thinking, not with the party going on till the wee hours and than there’s the plane to catch, the plane that will take them to an island where they can finally have some peace and quiet. And time to work out the being a family part. Up to the wedding, Bea had refused the idea of moving in, she needed her private space, even if it’s just one room above a bookstore. Gerald loved that little room of hers, all that elaborate mess with shawls draped over chairs, empty mugs of coffee everywhere, discarded bottles of perfume she never got to throw away. He craves and cringes the changes she’ll bring to his spartan bachelor apartment and he’s already tasked his sister to fill all the rooms with flowers for their return from the honeymoon. He knows he’s the lesser half in this pair, but he’s determined to make her see what he’s made of, see that he’s worth it. After all, what were the chances that Bea would marry him?

The time has come for the happy couple to come down the steps of the small church and the four young bridesmaids are waiting, baskets full of petals at the ready. A light shower of rose petals meets the couple as they finally emerge. Gerald smiles and Bea starts waving her hands trying to keep the petals from getting into her eyes.
Too late now for in an instant she sees his hands showering rose petals over her naked body. That night, that one perfect night, her first wedding night. The day they got married by the lake and Alan put flowers in her hair and gave her a ring of twisted glass blades. It did not matter they were not married in church, their love was stronger than all the vows in the world. Funny how no one ever knew of their marriage, not even her best friend, Reese. She would have told her, she’d thought about that moment, she imagined her look of surprise and squeals of joy. ‘Tell me everything’, she'd say… but then there was nothing left to say, not at a time when Alan lay dead in his coffin and she was a widow before ever being a bride.
The rose petals keep falling, hurting her cheeks like claws tearing into the skin. Why is she here, who are all these people and what are they cheering for? Don’t they know Alan is dead? Gerald holds her hand tight, but not tight enough and she slips away, pushing and shoving her way out, running into the garden, stumbling into the flowerbeds, thorns tearing at her dress and pricking her thighs.
Her dress is shredded and red with the blood trickling on her legs when Gerald catches up to her. She fights him off, but he is stronger than her. His arms hold her tight against her chest, where she sobs gently now. He whispers soft soothing sounds in her ear, like when you’re cooing a baby to sleep. No need for words or apologies, he’s always known Alan was the love of her life, but then Bea has always been the love of his life. He’ll keep the bad dreams away from her.

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Image: Pixabay