I Wanna Kiss The Bride
A Short Story About a Man on Her Wedding Day
It’s her wedding day.
I should’ve been there, standing beside her, but instead, I watched from far away. She looks perfectly fine in her dress, and beneath her veil, I can see her smile and the dimples that paint her face.
Seven years have passed since I last saw her, yet every tiny detail of her face lingers vividly in my head. Every memory of her is neatly tucked beside my bed, like the gold pendant I bought for us on her birthday. Now, it’s only mine, and around her neck hangs a glimmering silver necklace, customized for this special day.
The newlyweds hold hands smiling facing each other as the preacher asks, “Is there anyone here who has a reason why these two should not be wed?”
Silence fills the room — not an awkward silence, but one of agreement.
Everyone here feels joy for her wanting both of them to be married right away and live a happy life, but I do not.
She looks stunning today, and I should have interrupted the ceremony, stood up, and declared, “Objection, Father. With all due respect, I can’t watch this without speaking my truth. I desperately want to kiss the bride.”
The thought crossed my mind, but I kept it buried deep inside. Now the ring has slipped onto her finger, and they’ve kissed. It’s all too late, and nothing will ever feel the same again.
Everyone cheers for her, but she deserves better.
From a distance, I see tears glistening on her face, while the groom wears a small, unassuming smile on his face. What a boring man. Hard, cold, and devoid of emotion. I imagine that after this wedding, he’ll go straight to bed, and day after day, they’ll rest in routine.
The moment, I saw him, I wanted to yell to protect this lovely bride from a boring life “Objection. Objection. Million objections Father. This woman deserves better.”
They walk down the aisle, and amidst the guests, all I see is her face. The groom fades into the background — I hardly notice him. To me, it feels like my ex-lover is marrying herself. The guests wear smiles and offer congratulations, but what do they know? None of them barely know her.
Her dress sweeps the floor as she heads toward the door, accepting their well-wishes as this new couple departs. What do they know? Surely they’ve never seen me as her couple.
My world becomes darker, while her face shines brighter. She waves to the crowd, accepting their prayers, and I can’t bear to watch her any longer. I’ve hidden myself well among the guests, blending in, thanks to my attire.
What if she sees me?
She invited me, after all, but the last time I saw her was seven years ago. What should I say? Talking about the weather surely won’t help. What if he sees me? He knows me — we met briefly years ago — and I can’t help but wonder if I could look him in the eye and calmly say, “You look like shit, and please let me kiss your bride.”
I try to hide with all of my life, but she sees me. They’re moving toward me now. She smiled at me and reluctantly, I paid a smile too. Her smile relived the memory inside my head, her smile was still the same smile that made me fall in love.
They’re getting closer, and I brace myself for the inevitable conversation.
Both of them express their gratitude for my presence, but all I can hear is her voice, a lovely, familiar voice.
Should I take her hand and run traveling the world like we used to do and at the same time tell her that this man doesn’t deserve her? Or should I strike the groom down, steal his clothes, kiss her as my bride, and start the wedding over? The thoughts race through my mind, but today is her wedding day, and I keep every word locked inside.
With a heavy heart, I managed to say, “I hope you find your joy ever after, like the end of every great tale.” That’s all I can say, and we used to say that word under the bright star after a crazy night.
I remind myself once again, that today is her day and I swallow every detail of the words I meant to say.
