God I Hate that Man

And it’s not like they have any reason to be late. Except the obvious one, they know something I don’t. There won’t be any traffic jams or flat tires or any of that kind of stuff. Everyone in the wedding party, and to my knowledge the majority of the guests, have rooms here to stay overnight after the reception party, so they all have somewhere on the site to get ready too.

“Where are they?” I ask Toby.

“Relax Finn. It’s almost like a rule these things start a couple of minutes late,” he whispers back. “She’ll be here, don’t worry.” His expression seems a little bit more worried than his casual tone, though. He’s frowning and checking his watch too.

Even the guests are starting to get restless, shuffling in their seats. The quiet hub-bub of whispered conversation has gone up a notch as people start to speculate about the time.

At this point, the music starts to play. It’s a moving classical piece with gentle notes that carry well across the large space. It seems to calm the guests, making them settle back down and start to smile.

The door opens and Ashley’s maid of honor, Sophie, steps in. She’s wearing a long dress in midnight blue satin, the color an exact match for the voile on the chairs. Sophie is smiling as she walks slowly down the aisle. This cannot be anything but a good sign?

Toby moves to meet Sophie as she reaches the end of the aisle, offering her his arm as she arrives at the platform. He helps her up onto it.

I turn my focus back to the door.

Already the other bridesmaids and the groomsmen are walking down the aisle in their pairs.

They reach the platform and step up, the groomsmen coming to stand behind me. Toby arranges himself at the front of their little line, directly behind me. The bridesmaids line up behind the maid of honor.

The classical music slowly fades out, replaced by the opening notes of the wedding march. The mood in the whole hall changes to one of excited expectation when the music starts.

I watch the door, my heart racing. My mouth is dry and my palms are sweaty.

It’s been too long. Too long since the rest of the wedding party came in.

I notice Toby exchanging what he thinks are subtle looks with the maid of honor.

She looks horrified, and she keeps mouthing I don’t know.

Does this mean she doesn’t know why Ashley has fled, or she doesn’t know why she’s running a minute or two late?

It’s too late for me to have any hope of Ashley being here. The maid of honor clearly doesn’t know why Ashley isn’t here. For all I’ve tried to steel myself for this inevitable moment, deep down, I realize now, I thought she would come.

I really did.

I realize something else as well. I have absolutely no idea what to do next. Do I make an announcement that Ashley isn’t coming, or do I slip out of the side door and let Toby and the minister handle the guests?

I’ve never really thought much about marriage except in the abstract, until I met Ashley. So needless to say, the etiquette of being stood up at the altar has definitely passed me by.

I glance at the minister, hoping to take my cue from him.

He’s smiling serenely, the same expression he has worn since the maid of honor appeared, but now, it looks forced.

It doesn’t help me in the slightest. I don’t think anyone can help me at this point. I should just leave. Somehow, I can’t make my feet move though and I keep my eyes on the minister’s face, as though by looking at him, I can somehow force this all to be okay. He definitely is the one who will know what to do next I tell myself.

As I watch him, trying to get his attention without it being obvious to the guests that’s what I’m doing, his face changes. His smile looks genuine again now, and his shoulders have relaxed. A pleased sigh comes from the guests.

Now, I dare to let myself think she’s here.

I don’t turn around to look though in case I am wrong and the tiny spark of hope inside of me dies for good. Then I hear a gasp rise up from the crowd and I know it can only mean one thing. I slowly turn around.

My heart almost stops in my chest when I see Ashley and her father moving slowly down the aisle towards me. Even through the long veil she’s wearing, I can see Ashley is smiling, and her cheeks are flushed pink. She’s carrying a large bouquet filled with white lilies and midnight blue roses.

Her dress is pure white, the bodice tight and strapless, adorned with silver thread that shines beneath the light from the chandeliers. The skirt part of the dress is fuller, billowing out around her legs in swirls of voile and satin, shot through with the same silver thread. It makes her look ethereal. They have done something with her hair too, made it look as if it is very long while put into a bun at the back of her head and decorated with flowers.