Undermined..

A Story by Kori Ricketts

work in progress

This is a strange place for me. Stuck among The satin wrapped chairs, trail of pink and white roses, and elated grins, all adding to the unusual tension that builds in my stomach, unable to deny the inevitable. The soft, melodious sounds of K-ci and JoJo professing their life long search of the love now found, irritates me. Two columns, six rows, four chairs per row. The number of months we yearned for one another secretly. Satin covered chairs? A clear indicator that her new lover was in charge of this tacky arrangement. Large multicolored, rainbow-esque bows hug the cheap satin covering the chairs.

Luna walks down the isle, followed by Farah, then Amber, all in matching pink sateen dresses. The “trio-plus-one” is what I always called them. They loved her as much as I do…did. They walk, synchronized, to the song being whispered from the overhead speakers, until they reach the front of the room and face us. The congregation that condones this commitment. Well I don’t. They stand to the left of the room, leaving lateral space for what I assume will be her “wife’s” court.

Then she walks out. Her locs in a single tightly woven French braid. Her tuxedo, reminiscent of a pristine penguin, is sharply tailored, as if it was made for her bodice only. The cuff of her blazer end precisely at the wrist, and her trousers following the same precision, cascade unto her lace front hard bottom shoes, just enough so the laces peek from underneath. Her court follows behind her, in the same prestige, with pink cummerbund to match their counterparts. She stands parallel to the women in pink, smiling like a Cheshire cat. She winks at me, proud. I nod my head, signaling that I accept her pride, and lace my lips with a smile, however false.

That monotonous bridal march begins to play and we stand. The incessant ramblings of “she’s so beautiful”, and “I love her in white” cannot embody her true beauty. Her usual thick curls have been pressed straight, like her grandmother used to. Her veil served as the cream coating her cappuccino complexion. Her almond eyes blink slowly, and she smile as she walks the green mile, then as she passes me, the smile fades. I look deep into her eyes and I know that she feels the way that I do. She mouths “I’m sorry” and I feel a warmth overflow me. She continues her march, and once she has arrived at the pulpit, she takes her place in her new life.

I feel as Charlie Brown would as the minister brings them into matrimony. Not sure of where my mind drifts, but I cannot be apart of this. They kiss…I die. Emotions slide down my cheeks and burn my heart. The walk out together. Happy in matrimony…in love. I walk out as my row is called, and greet the happy couple.

“Bobbi, if it wasn’t for you I would’ve never met this girl.” Her blazer is unbuttoned now, tie loose, her precision has disintegrated, showing her true crass self.

“I owe you. Maybe I’ll hook you up and you’ll be next at the alter.” I smirk as she pats my shoulder. She approaches me open armed, her veil now pulled back revealing her luminescence. I hug her, tightly but remaining tasteful.

“I love you, Bobbi. You’re the only woman I will ever love.” She whispers in my ear. She perches her soft lips on my cheeks and backs away; friendly. They walk away, hand in hand, and I walk in the opposite direction, no longer believing in love.