I was not missing this for the world.
I took a deep breath and turned around and saw the little flower girls in their sweet pink dresses and wide white sash bows, strewing petals on the carpeted aisle. Then she appeared at the entrance of the Church.
Ahh … something inside me melted. My woman was here.
In the white gown and long veil she looked other-worldly, like a nymph or a spirit of the forest. She must have been nervous because she was clutching the flowers entwined between her fingers so hard they trembled. Then she began to walk down the aisle, the light caught her tumbling curls and turned them into glowing fire.
I remembered again the girl hanging upside-down from the tree.
Yes, I wanted to marry her that day. It was my big goal. The goal I never told anyone. The reason no woman would ever do. I was always waiting for the green-eyed witch. No more. She would be mine soon. Forever. Inside her was everything I ever wanted. When I laid my head on her belly, I could already hear the sound of my children’s feet, their laughter, the happy life that we would have.
Flanked by her father, she walked slowly, in time with the music. It was so beautiful. My mind made a record of the moment. It would live forever inside me. No matter how hard or difficult the times get I would remember this moment and know I was the luckiest bastard alive.
Tears of joy gathered in my eyes. I wasn’t ashamed of them.
As she got closer I could see her white face. I felt as if my heart would burst with the love I felt for that woman.
The butcher was grinning from ear to ear. When he caught my eye he made the thumbs up sign. I was too choked up to respond. He gave his daughter to me and went to sit next to his eighteen-year-old Italian model girlfriend.
I lifted her veil. “I love you,” I whispered.
She raised her hand and wiped away my tears. “This is not a competition, but I love you more.”
I laughed through my tears. The priest cleared his throat. I guided her to our place in front of him. He droned on and I didn’t hear a word. I was so happy. When I was prompted I turned to face my bride and said, the right words. All of them were mere inventions of man. None of those shallow words that could only describe the feelings of the unimaginative could adequately reflect how I felt about her. The passion I had for her. A promise I made all those years ago.
Then my brother was turning to me, handing me the ring I’d picked out for her. I took it from him and it felt cool against my fingers. That felt wrong. It should feel like fire. That is how our love was. From the very beginning. Pure fire.
I looked into her beautiful eyes and slipped my ring and mark of possession onto her slender white finger. “With this ring … I thee wed.”
The End