JUST BEEN NICE

The sun reflects off the ocean, casting a golden tint over the beach. A gentle breeze moves through a path decorated with white roses and lilies, playing with the edges of silk dresses and tailored suits. The wedding guests, a mix of sophistication and wealth, share whispers of anticipation.

At the outskirts, Joe sits relaxed, observing the celebration, lost in his thoughts.

“Smiles like they're selling something," he quietly speaks with a slight sneer at the corner of his mouth. "All those teeth gleaming... until you get down on one knee. Then it's 'What can you do for me? Can you afford my lifestyle?'"

He forcefully exhales, his meticulously styled hair barely ruffled by the sweeping gust of disillusionment. Despite the weight of solitude, he adjusts self-assuredly, confidently drumming his fingers against the armrest.

"Money, money, always about money," Joe whispers, as if confiding in the sea breeze.

Looking around the crowd, he notices the fancy jewelry and expensive clothes that seem more suited to a Hollywood event than a beach gathering. He tries to distance himself from the showy display but can't help feeling out of place as the only single person among a group celebrating togetherness.

A line of elegantly dressed women walks by Joe, each looking stylish and graceful. Their dresses move with the ocean's rhythm in shades of champagne and blush. They say "Hi" to Joe, and he replies, feeling unenthusiastic. He says, "Enough," stands up, and walks to the front row for some solitude. Sitting down, he finds the emptiness around him comforting.

"Better."

The groom stands tall, radiating joy and anticipation, his grin resembling a wave reaching its peak next to the priest. Joe can't help but be drawn to the enchanting spectacle before him. As the bride enters, her hand firmly clasping her father's arm, she seems both rooted in tradition and ready to embrace the future. Joe watches in awe as the scene unfolds before his eyes.

"Pretty picture," he whispers with skepticism in his tone.

He observes the happy look on the groom's face, noticing that his smile stays constant. Joe subtly shakes his head, silently communicating with someone, and a silent dialogue unfolds.

"Enjoy the happiness while it lasts, friend," he quietly says.

The sun dips lower, casting an amber glow over the beach as Joe checks his watch for the umpteenth time.

"Such a waste of a perfect Saturday," he mutters. He’s tapping his foot and ready to bolt from the matrimonial display that has him shackled to his front-row seat.

The ceremony builds up to the most crucial moment, with the exchange of vows and rings. The priest then asks for permission for the couple to kiss.

As Joe watches the beautiful moment of the bride and groom kissing, the crowd erupts into applause to celebrate the special occasion. Suddenly, he feels a strong push at his side, causing his phone to fall to the ground, as someone quickly takes the seat next to him. Feeling annoyed by the disruption, he leans down to pick up his phone.

"Watch it—"

As he stands up, he notices a lady taking the next seat. She is Gina, and she's crying. This moment sparks Joe's curiosity instead of annoyance.

"Hey, are you okay?" Joe whispers.

She ignores him and puts her finger to her lips, telling him to be quiet. She keeps crying silently, expressing her emotions without making a sound.

After the couple’s kisses, the crowd's cheering fades into a soft hum of conversation and the sound of glasses clinking. Gina gets herself together, gently wiping her eyes with a tissue.

"Wasn't it emotional?" she asks, her voice is barely audible.

"Uh, yeah," Joe replies with an enthusiastic nod. "Sure." Inside, though, he scoffs at his lie. "Nonsense."

As the wedding celebrations end, Joe quickly moves towards the parking lot, his keys in hand and a sense of freedom calling to him.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Joe quickly turns around. It's Gina; her eyes are red-rimmed, but she looks composed.

"Remember me from inside?" Her tone is hopeful.

"Gold digger," Joe sneers inwardly while offering a tight smile. "I'm not buying what you're selling."

"Ah, my brother was the groom," she explains, oblivious to his cynicism. "That's why I was such a mess."

"Right," Joe responded with skepticism.

She extends a small package to him. Joe eyes it warily before taking it, suspecting a ruse.

"What's this? Why are you giving this to me?" His voice is edged with suspicion.

Gina smiles with a cryptic lips curve and walks away without a word.

"Typical," he grumbles to himself, staring at the parcel. "Probably her phone number or some sob story."

He's about to toss it aside when he notices others clutching identical packages. He becomes curious and opens the paper to find a keychain with the smiling faces of the new couple.

"Damn," Joe exhales, a flush of chagrin warming his cheeks. “She didn’t ask for my name or my contact.”

His preconceptions crumble like a sandcastle at high tide. He pockets the keepsake as a reminder that sometimes, he can be wrong.

Joe's strides carry a penitent urgency as he weaves through the dispersing crowd, his eyes scanning for Gina. His ego weighs heavy in his chest, a stone of remorse. There she is, alone, her slim figure outlined against the dusk sky, busily stacking boxes into the trunk of her car.

"Hey," Joe calls out lightheartedly, belying his inner turmoil. He taps her shoulder gently. "Do you remember me?"

Gina turns, a flash of recognition sparking in her eyes. "How can I forget? We just spoke."

A smirk tugs at Joe's lips, his suspicions churning beneath the surface. "I knew she was up to something."

Before words form on his tongue, a figure approaches—a man with a presence that commands attention. He's all effortless charm, starkly contrasting Joe's calculated poise.

"Sir, meet Michael," Gina introduces, her voice threaded with pride. "My lovely husband!"

"Hello," Michael offers a firm handshake and a sincere and warm smile. It's the type of smile that genuinely reflects in his eyes.

Joe shakes the hand offered. His arms now rest at his sides. He looks surprised, his usual confidence deflated.