quickly than I could ever have believed. If I was the suspicious type, even just a little, I was sure I would have believed something wasn’t right. As it was everything seemed normal, other than the speed of things that is. I had had nothing to do with the wedding, I hadn’t even chosen my own suit; not even a grown man of my status had been able to pick out his own wedding attire. There was only one part I had played in the whole arrangement and that was the funding. Yes, on the first day, maybe a little into the second, I had been asked permission every time a large chunk had been carved off my bank balance, but every day since then I had just watched my wealth wither away.
I couldn’t do much other than to just sit back and laugh to myself, my mom of course had everything under control, who even needed a groom at a wedding? If it wasn’t for the surprise wedding invitation I had received yesterday I doubted I would have even been spared an invite. The most I knew about the wedding was the company gossip and the small snippets from the newspapers that had been thrust onto my desk by the nervous hands of Linda, no doubt forced to do so by my mom or maybe even Jasmine, my wife to be, I didn’t know.
I suppose I could have asked, could have shown an interest, but they seemed to be doing so well without me. It was only in the last week, after finding out that the colour theme was an old and slightly unappealing shade of pink that I had realised that they could probably perform the whole ceremony without me. Perhaps they could have used a cardboard cut-out, one of me in some suit from some event that I had most likely forgotten about. I even looked it up once, wasting a little time before a meeting, only to find out that you could in fact buy a cardboard cut-out of someone without their consent, in fact it seemed that people had done it before.
But through it all, through all the planning and all the shaving of my bank account there was one thing that I cared about and it was something I would rather not. My soon to be wife. I couldn’t get her out of my mind, couldn’t shake the image of her fiery red hair and her teasing grin, one that had my body tighten every time I thought about it. Yes, if there was one thing I cared about it was her, as much as I hated to admit it, I was attracted to my fiancé. I had never believed I would be, not after I found out the whole thing was to be arranged at least. It was an odd concept, to me anyway, that I was attracted to her.
After that first day we had only met once more, like most things it seemed I was disillusioned when I thought I might actually get to know her before I married her. We had been allowed to have dinner, a dinner that lasted at best 30 minutes before it was interrupted. The word ‘Allowed’ was a word I could only use loosely; the whole event was more of a forced meeting that I had insisted upon. When your son, at the age of 28 and with a billion pound company to his name threatens to run away if you don’t let him meet his fiancé for only the second time you generally have no choice but to ‘allow’ it. It was an odd meeting to say the least, I don’t know what I was expecting but it certainly wasn’t what happened.
“William, it’s lovely to see you again,” Jasmine said softly as I met her in the middle of the restaurant. Her voice wasn’t like she was greeting a stranger or even her soon to be husband, it was like she was addressing someone she had known her whole life, the oldest of friends. I was startled but as soon as I laid my eyes on hers everything was forgotten, that shade of blue, so mystical that it had haunted even my simplest of dreams.
“Jasmine,” I greeted her after a short pause, “I’m sorry this took so long to…” I thought back to the three arguments I had had with my mom about this very meeting just today “to set up,” I said, smiling widely to cover my stumble.
Jasmine nodded simply and sat down in the chair I
Alicia Street, Roy Street