Wedding Vows

Greggory Thomas was a moderately happy man. He had a decent job, which he hated; a cheap car without any mechanical issues, a balding spot on the top of his head and a gut which hung lower than he felt was needed. Most importantly, he had a bride-to-be who was just as moderately happy as he was. His life was good and he was a good, yet boring man. 

Monica Krill was a liar. They had been together for three years and two months to the day. They met online, then again for coffee. Since the second date, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Monica was showered with gifts and attention, but for her it wasn’t enough. She felt empty most of the time, starved even, for something that Gerggory couldn’t offer. She was as happy as she could be with him and after three years and two months, it seemed time to move to the next level. It was only natural to want marriage. 

“I love your smile,” Greggory often said; so often it began to lose its meaning. Monica never knew what to say back, instead she smiled again, which was more than enough for Greggory. Her dimples deepened and her lips pulled apart to reveal crystal white teeth. She blushed with her grin, a deep rose that softened her face. 

A year into the relationship, they moved in together and a year after that, Monica met Justin. He had a body for magazines and golden curls, with blue eyes that engulfed Monica in an ocean. They met online, and then again for coffee. Only, it wasn’t coffee. Monica hid her sense of guilt with a bottle of rum and let the night take her away. Justin wrestling inbetween the sheets and the moans bounced off the cigarette stained walls. Music blurred together as one song, their song, played on repeat until the rush of the wine faded. 

They met on Tuesdays, when Greggory had league in the old bowling alley down the road from Justin’s condo. Greggory was the worst player on the team, but he never failed to enjoy himself or the company.  He’s only gotten a strike on two separate occasions. Once on a date with Monica and another when she joined him at league, covering for a sick friend. 

“You must be my lucky charm,” he told her once. She smiled behind the bowling ball and the distraction led her to another gutter. It was the last Tuesday they spent together.

Tuesday was Monica’s favorite day of the week. 

Justin was younger, about five years from Monica. He was taller than Greggory and was more than content with his life. He had a career from home, a motorcycle and a dog. He traveled and learned how to surf this past summer. This was the excitement Monica felt like she missed.  

The music began and Monica’s father tightened his grip on her arm. 

“I’m proud of you kiddo,” he said with a large smile and wet eyes. He led the way down the aisle. He took big, yet slow strides and just after four steps, Monica and Justin made eye contact. He was here now, uninvited to the wedding. Sitting in the third row, just behind family and two seats from the aisle. She felt herself pull toward him but swallowed hard and quickly turned her attention to Greggory. Monica’s father kissed both of her cheeks and gave her a hug before handing her off to Greggory. The audience swelled with delight and anticipation.  

“Greggory Thomas, do you take Monica Krill to be your lawfully wedded wife. To love and to-”

Justin stood aggressively and waved his hand in the air. 

“I have something to say!” he shouted, louder than he had intended. He cleared his throat and made his way to the aisle. He adjusted his already tight tie and pulled the wrinkles out of his suit. The audience hushed to a dead silence. A collective breath was held as the audience waited for the stranger to continue. 

“Monica, since the day we met, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. I think about you even when I’m not thinking about you. You haunt my dreams and purge my nightmares. I see you before I even notice the sun. You have my heart and I love you with all of it. I beg you, do not marry this man…Marry me.” The audience gasped as one and leaned forward on the edge of their chairs. The music stopped and left the room in a regrettable silence. 

Tears rushed to Monica’s eyes. She brought a quivering hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. Greggory never made her feel this sort of way. 

“Monica?” Greggory asked, “Who’s this?”

“My name is Justin Malore,” Justin said without hesitation. 

Greggory was appalled as the reality soaked in his brain. The self doubt and questions he’s had all this time, now answered. He instantly compared himself to the stranger. Justin seemed like the better choice, but he and Monica had a connection, or at least he thought. “You’ve…you’ve been cheating on me?” Monica slowly nodded, not knowing what to say. She remained silent, focusing on stopping her tears from falling.

“For how long?” Greggory began to get angry. His face turned red and his brows lowered. He bit the corner of his lip, a nervous tick, and rubbed his hands together to dry the sweat. The family of the bride whispered amongst themselves, trying not to talk over the drama. Greggory’s mother held a handkerchief to her eyes. His father, as beat red as Greggory, steamed silently in his seat. 

“Does it matter?” Justin asked. 

“Yes it does,” Greggory said. Greggory felt a time frame would console his conscience. In reality, it didn’t. It was already done.

Justin cleared his throat before answering. Monica remained silent. Her mouth opened and closed as words left her faster than they came.

“How long?” Greggory repeated. 

“A little over a year.” Greggory gulped at the answer. All the memories within the past year jumped from his thoughts. The missed dinners, the fights, the makeup sex, the awkward silences.

“Monica, sweetheart,” Monica’s mother stood to speak. “What is going on?” The crowd joined in with their own questions and thoughts. After a while, the commotion died down as they awaited what was to come next.

“Do you love him?” Greggory said under his breath. Monica wept again, but remained quiet. “Monica, tell me. Do you love this man?” 

Monica took a deep breath in and finally replied. 

“I do.”