The wedding hall was an expansive, grand structure, its high ceilings adorned with intricate chandeliers casting a warm, golden glow. The walls were draped with delicate garlands of white lilies, their sweet scent filling the air and lending an ethereal quality to the setting. These flowers also lined the aisle, creating a fragrant pathway that seemed to beckon the bride toward her fate.
Despite the hall's grandeur, it felt strangely empty, almost desolate. Only one guest occupied the numerous seats meant for friends and family, a silent observer amidst the sea of empty chairs. At the front, a solemn priest stood, his eyes reflecting the weight of the ceremony he was about to conduct.
The groom, towering at 6.5 feet, with broad shoulders and a muscular build, seemed almost too large for the occasion. His suit, though freshly pressed, bore signs of previous wear—a faint fray at the cuff, a slightly worn hem—subtle indicators of a life far removed from the opulence this hall suggested. The suit's tight fit hinted at a man who had outgrown his past in more ways than one.
Silence enveloped the hall, an absence of music, chatter, or even the soft rustle of attendants moving about. There were no bridesmaids or groomsmen, no flower girls or ring bearers. The atmosphere was heavy, almost oppressive, punctuated only by the occasional creak of the wooden pews.
The lack of a choir was evident, as the usual hymns and sacred songs that would fill such a ceremony with reverence and joy were notably absent. This stark silence made the occasion feel more somber, a stark contrast to the typical joyous noise of a wedding. There were no servers bustling about to attend to last-minute details, no clinking of champagne glasses or whispered conversations.
As the bride prepared to make her entrance, the scene felt more like a solemn contract being enacted rather than a celebration of love. Yet, amidst this stillness, there was a sense of expectancy, a silent acknowledgment of the union about to be formed under the eyes of God.
In the midst of the awkward silence, the heavy wooden doors of the hall creaked open. The sudden sound echoed, breaking the stillness. "Here comes the bride!" someone shouted with a mixture of excitement and nervous energy.
The bride appeared at the doorway, clad in a long white wedding dress that exuded luxury. The intricate lace details and the flowing train gave her the appearance of a princess stepping out of a fairy tale. Her veil cascaded down her back, a delicate cloud trailing behind her. She held a bouquet of lilies, their pristine petals symbolizing purity and renewal, and their sweet fragrance mingling with the lingering scent of the lilies adorning the hall.
Walking down the aisle, her every step was measured and graceful, accompanied by the one visitor in the hall. This companion, a young man with an innocent smile, was her older brother, diagnosed with intellectual dyslexia, which endowed him with the understanding of an eight-year-old. His presence added a poignant touch to the ceremony, his enthusiasm evident in the way he held his sister's hand tightly.
"Sister, you look the prettiest today! Are we going out today?" he asked, his voice filled with innocent excitement.
The bride, momentarily taken aback by his question, smiled softly, her eyes glistening with affection. "Yes, we are going far away. It's the best place, so trust your sister," she whispered gently, trying not to disturb the solemnity of the moment. Her words were filled with love and reassurance, a promise wrapped in gentle tones.
The groom watched as they approached, his expression a mixture of determination and tenderness. As they reached the front, he extended his hand to the bride, guiding her gently to the ceremonial place where the priest awaited. The priest made the sign of the cross, blessing the couple as they took their positions.
The priest began the ceremony, invoking the presence of God with a solemn prayer. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God and these witnesses to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony."
The bride and groom exchanged traditional Christian vows, their voices steady and filled with conviction. "To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part," they promised each other.
The priest blessed the rings, small circles of gold symbolizing eternity and unbroken love. They exchanged the rings, hands trembling slightly, the gravity of the moment settling in.
As the ceremony drew to a close, the priest led the congregation in the Lord's Prayer. The groom and bride, hands clasped together, recited the sacred words, "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..."
With a final blessing, the priest proclaimed, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
The groom lifted the veil and saw her glistening eyes, unsure whether to proceed. As he hesitated, the bride took the initiative, pulling him close and locking her lips with his. The groom was astonished by her bold action, his heart skipping a beat. The grim expression he had worn throughout the ceremony softened into a smile. "You are something, Miss Evelyn Carter," he said, looking into her eyes.
She gently pushed him back and corrected him, "It's Evelyn Bennett now, as I'm married to you, Mr. Alexander Bennett."
Their dynamic already seemed like that of a cat and dog, a mix of tension and unexpected harmony. But doesn't Newton say, "Opposites attract"? It's the law of the universe. Will they break the law, or will the law break their awkward gap?
TO BE CONTINUED...