\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2267493-Married-Today
Item Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Dark · #2267493
Mrs McCoy tied the knot, although it's not the happiest day of her life, not at all
Married Today

My husband likes strawberry cake.

We had it at our wedding. One tier strawberry, one tier red velvet. They compliment each other. The strawberry was the larger tier, the base of the cake and coated in white frosting and decorated in fake flowers. I like my day. Not necessarily loved it, like how a bride was supposed to love her wedding day. I loved my dress, my venue and my food, but not the day itself. That’s a sad thing, isn’t it? You are supposed to love your wedding day, the happiest day of your life.

I got married today.

I wanted this to be a day I showed my future kids, an enchanting and unforgettable day. One I would look back on in years to come as my idea of perfection. A perfect man linked to me, linked by rings. A man who gets you flowers and pays for dinner. Who always shows up on time and works hard to help provide for you. Who likes dogs and plays the guitar. Who is your type on paper and thinks the world of you. As I said, perfect.

I married him today.

I put on my dress, a pure white princess ball gown with a big of lace sewn into the bodes. I even hired a make-up artist and a hairstylist, this was an important day after all. Normally I wouldn’t treat myself to something of the sort but today was different. My bridesmaids got ready with me. Elaine, my best friend since we were young, a woman I confided with and cared for, my maid of honour. Caroline, we met in college, my nurse friend, work friend and the person who helped me through a lot. My sister Tracy, older than me, uses her wisdom on me whenever necessary. My mother insisted on being there while we got ready, a lady of perfection. She wanted to make sure every detail was correct and not a single hair was out of place.

I was ready to get married today.

Put it down to cold feet if you’d like, the moment running out on this whole thing was contemplated. Leaving him at the altar. I had one of those. I’m not a bad person, I asked my sister if she felt this way on her wedding day and she said that every bride does. That this was normal, this meant I wanted to marry him and I loved him. She told me that it was running through her mind but she knew that it was something she could never do. Tracy, always the wise one. She would drag me down that aisle if needed, maybe for my mother's sake. I would prove to be too much of an embarrassment, you can’t embarrass her.

I was officially married today.

I walked out on announcement as Mrs McCoy for the first time. Mrs Caitlyn McCoy, has a ring to it, don’t you think? I was always most excited for my first dance. Every wedding I went to I watched the couple staring at each other with such loving eyes. Like they were at home. Mr McCoy couldn’t look at me like that, like a soulmate. A song played like any old song, nothing with meaning. Most couples had ‘their song’. I just asked the band to play whatever they wanted. It’s not sad. We share things other couples don’t.

I married that man today.

There were speechless. His best man, Peter. He wasn’t naturally funny by any means, I thought he would say something meaningful instead, but he stuck to his attempt at comedy. Elaine spoke as well. She shared memories and whatnot. My dad spoke. Only giving Mr McCoy a warning that if he ever hurt me, he’d be hurt right back.

That married man should have known better.

We cut the cake, his strawberry cake and my red velvet cake. The knife was one his family always used on weddings, so sentimental. The photographer got excellent photos of it. Special photos that we’ll look back on for years to come. Mr McCoy dropped the knife back to our hotel room, he didn't want something considered a family heirloom to go missing. I liked how much he cared about the little things. He sat there, enjoying his strawberry cake, chatting to his best man.

He enjoyed his cake as a married man today.

I threw my bouquet, my sister catching it. A married woman, the guests found it funny, I would have under different circumstances. Before I knew it, the last song of the night was playing and it was time for our grand exit. People cheered out and we walked to our room, the newlywed's suite. My feet aching from walking all day in heels.

Then the married man's phone buzzed,

Mr McCoy was in the bathroom and I took a peak, married people don't have secrets. Again, really? This again? This always?

The man who married today was lying.

Maybe the bouquet toss was right, maybe they were set to be newlyweds. Maybe they should have tied the knot. Why didn’t I just listen to my gut and just run? I knew all along, I knew what he was doing. Who he was with. I’m stupid, I really am. I can’t believe myself, honestly. I smiled, I got dressed up, I could win an Oscar for this performance. All this time. Maybe I convinced myself that it wasn’t true, that I wasn’t seeing it clearly. I’m just glad there are no children involved, nobody would get caught in the crossfire. I should have listened, I knew what my friends had heard. I thought I had locked him down, that that phase of his life was just stupid college behaviour. Mr McCoy wasn’t a dumb college boy anymore, he had grown up. Mrs McCoy wasn’t dumb either, is that what her husband believed?

Mr McCoy was having an affair with the wise sister, a man who got married today.

He requested that someone dropped leftover cake to the hotel room, a few slices of strawberry cake. I opened the door to collect them, while my husband was preoccupied.

“Oh, did you spill red wine on your dress?” The server asked as he handed me the cake, pushing my eyes to the red stain that corrupted the pure white gown.

“I did yes, on my wedding dress of all things!” I laughed, he joined in.

“You can try some bleach on it, maybe that could take the stain out. Congratulations Mrs McCoy!” He departed and I shut the door, slices of cake in my hand.

The slice was far too big for me, so I pulled the knife out of Mr McCoy's stomach, wiped it clean and made my slice smaller. A family heirloom. I sat on the sofa, eating my slice of his favourite cake in complete tranquillity.

Mr McCoy got married today.

Mr McCoy died today.
© Copyright 2022 sarahlawlor (sarahlawlor at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2267493-Married-Today