Man and Wife

"Get out of the way, Tosser!"

That bellow which was spat from the man in front, threatened to have me pushing out this moving vehicle, dashing onto the traffic laid ahead, but every part of me knew better.

Oh, the girl in me dare not.

If it was some other day, if the situation wasn't as intense as I found it to be, perhaps I would spare a listen to those words which poured out the lips of Timothy, while he got into a road brawl with the number of cars which came by us.

And at each passing second, it would be one insult or the other, him finding his next victim to get into a game of fast and furious with, as if we weren't already half an hour behind.

I could feel that prick on my skin.

Nah, believe me. It sure wasn't the prick at my heart. That burn which had lingered with me since the night father dropped the news. In fact, I had gotten so familiar with the burn, I could tell just when it differed.

This was something far different. Of course, I knew.

I could feel the itch on my skin. That itch spreading all the way down my thighs, while I wrestled with the wedding dress I had been thrown into.

To my left, I caught sight of a bunch of girls, treading the roadside, each one of those faces clouded with what one would presume, happiness. They went scurrying onwards in their skimpy dresses, with the sound of their chatters mixing with that of car honks blaring.

Perhaps it was the trail of those forms and the ruckus they pulled about, or it could be just how their skimpily clad figures were sure to glisten under the midday London sun that had every driver, males in particular, turning heads to their direction, watching as those long legs from the belles, treaded along the pavement.

I could hear the whistles following, and what more could one ask for being stuck in traffic, and having six starlets, coming out of nowhere having the road turned into their own runway.

But amidst that, it was their joy that had me struck.

Such joy they exhumed, I could only wonder how it felt having such freedom.

To my right, a bunch of kids went scampering around the local park set there, each one of those figures appearing wholesome, seemingly unbothered by the tumult breaking out on this end.

Once again, it was their joy I envied.

It was only three days ago, when Mother and Father had returned home, bearing such news that marked the start of my grief.

I remembered all which came with that hour.

And it was at that same hour I got forced to make a call to David, calling off our relationship of five years, putting an end to it at the spot.

Believe me, it wasn't as plain as I state it to be, for the instant I was found locked in that moment, I swear, I was bound to be scarred.

Perhaps that was enough reason for the hurt to clutch at my heart.

Brrrrrinnnngggg!

I didn't need a soothsayer to tell me whose contact was showing up my phone screen.

Already, I could tell just who it was, who so felt it proper cracking into the not-so-much-calm. And the instant I turned to that phone, I saw her name flashing on it.

If it wasn't her aching to know how close we had gotten, it would be her calling to check up on me, wanting to know if I hadn't done something that would leave the rest of my family raging.

Brrrinnnnngggg!

There came the rings yet again, phone blaring. And this time around, I was sure to pick up the cell.

"Bloody bell, Isabella! Where are you?!" That yell was the first my ears caught onto.

Silence.

"Isabella" I heard the voice of mother roar from the other end, and without uttering a word, I ended the call, switching off my cell, and only then did the tears I struggled so hard to suppress come rushing to the surface.

I still couldn't tell whatever her agitation was. After all, it was her and father who had pushed me into a car with two Roman warriors, believing they would prevent me from running away, like I had anywhere to go to.

Who could blame them though?

I had threatened to pack my things and leave after they dropped the news on me.

"You are to marry Luca Bonnucci" Those were the exact words mother told me that night I returned from David's home.

What were they even thinking?

They could have at least dropped the news a week prior, two weeks perhaps, a month even. And maybe then, just maybe, I would have had the time to run off to some Slavic country, where I was pretty sure not even father's dogs could fish me out.

But my own parents barely cared about me, I should have realized that by now. I should have known better after they had Lola flown to study in some American academy, and I was made familiar with the public institution at the back of our home.

Or could it be that summer Suzy was taken to Maldives in celebration of her birthday, and as for mine, well mother so happened to be considerate sending me off to spend such blessed day with the orphans at St. Agatha's.

Adrian always told me I was the outcast of the family, and bless the man's soul, but he surely meant that as innocently as it could be.

But was he wrong though? Already I felt an outcast, it was only fair someone had that put out in words. It just was unfortunate it had to come from our butler.

One would think I had it all.

The girls in my school used to say that after all—Having a father who owned such massive empire, a mother known for her numerous designs spread across the country, two sisters who were known for always gracing the T.V screens of every American household, and there was me. Plain ol' Isabella.

Don't take it serious, that's what my sisters call me, and it so happened to have stuck by.

Honk! Honk!

There went the blaring of Father's Mercedes yet again, accompanied with the threats of Timothy aimed at whoever dare block our path.

He pushed hard on the accelerator, having the car going past the limits, and believe me, there was no need to fret, as even the cops wouldn't have time pulling us over, issuing us a ticket. For all around town, set on the pages of every magazine in the country, was the wedding of Luca Mauro Bonnucci and Isabella Mae Campbell.

The wedding which seemed to be the rave of all, so happened to be my doom. Or so, I thought.

~~~

The sound of strings playing, soft violin tunes accompanied with the vigorous blare of Trumpets had my feet frozen on the concrete walkway.

I could feel the eyes of Timothy centered on me, the figure of the man stood at my side, waiting for me to take the first step forward.

"Isabella?"

There came that husky voice of the driver. The same voice which would always call out to me every afternoon when he came by to pick me from school.

It was that same voice ushering me to walk into that hall, onto the arms of a fellow I never had come across since birth.

"What's wrong?"

What's wrong?

Everything Timothy! Everything's wrong!

First of, I was about to be sent off into a home housing a lot of criminals, and spare the subtlety for whoever cared, but even the grounds knew of the dealings surrounding the Bonnuccis.

Those firms which the lot of them owned, scattered all around the country, I believed was only used as coverups.

Everyone knew who Aldo Bonnucci was. The same man who had a brawl with the government, and came out victorious.

Tell me how one is to have the horns of the country against him, and still manage to come out alive. Yet, Aldo Bonnucci was all that made up a malefactor. And it was that same man whose son I was about to be joined in union with.

Wherever did my bliss turn to?

"Bella!"

That voice had jolted me back to reverie, gaze falling on that figure now stood before me.

I could see the rage in that gaze, the tensity which was sure to follow. And not even the twenty pounds of makeup coated onto her face, could hide that frown tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Have one thing done right, and you seem to fail at it!"

I heard the voice of Aunt Corrine follow.

"Get going, Bella. Everyone's waiting for you"

And with that, she had pushed me onwards, the call of her voice trailing after my form.

It happened so fast, perhaps it was the burden loading my heart that had caused my own legs numb, but at the push of Aunt Corrine, I went stumbling, tripping on my own feet.

And splat I went, as my lips went kissing the prints of a thousand persons who so happened to have treaded on this path.

"Christ, Bella. Are you okay?"

Timothy had rushed to my side at once, helping me to my feet, and at that look of horror which found abode in the man's gaze, I could tell right what followed.

I didn't need to be told just what it was.

I had heard the rip myself, felt the breeze that sailed effortlessly at the back of my dress.

Classic mother! A designer herself, yet couldn't have better tailors sewing my wedding dress to fit.

Not like it mattered to me, but have a modicum of respect and take all to heart if you are to send your youngest daughter into the open arms of some Miscreant.

"Kill me, already"

I caught the clicks of Aunt Corrine's stiletto drawing nearer while she hurried to me.

"This is bad, Bella. This is bad!" I caught the panic which rushed to her voice, eyes housing sheer fright.

Believe me, Aunty, you could have me walk down the aisle naked and I could care less.

All my mind was centered on at the moment, all that left my heart aching, were thoughts of David.

The disappointment that surely had begat him while he read the pages of Suntimes daily, stating that the girl whom he had been wrapped in bed with only hours ago, was getting married to some fellow in three days time.

How could I tell him it was a complete contrast to how the entire media made it to be? How could I tell the man I love that those headlines weren't what they seemed to be, as I could not be in love with any man other than him.

How could I reach out to David, when Father had cut off all means off communication to him.

It was just what he had turned my life into—The reason for it, I knew not.

"Oh, God. We can't have anything ruin this"

Aunty Corinne fretted.

I caught onto that fear which radiated—Ruining the most anticipated moment, while thousands sat in that hall waiting for the joining, and she so happened to have laid a flaw, in what should be a day of merriments.

But I assured her all was well. Cause at a look into those eyes, that smile gracing my lips. The same one veiling my pains, I planted a kiss onto her forehead, pushing on my stance, and waddling to the doorway.

This was it.

The start of a journey, The start of my torment.

I caught onto the rumbles which filled the space. A lot of confused faces filling the room, perhaps wondering why the bride hadn't shown up when it was was half an hour past the commencement time.

But at my entrance, those heads had snapped my way, eyes gaping on at the figure stood at the entry.

Those eyes were followed with a range of feels. Contempt? Disgust? Curiosity? Anger? Whatever it was, those gazes were sure to linger on my form, having my legs turned weary.

And right then did I hear the whispers that followed. Those whispers which made me realize that I was in fact still in this ripped dress, and about to walk down the aisle getting sworn to a man.

Still, while those scrutinies judged me, watching as I was being led by father down the aisle, the figure on the altar didn't seem to take part in whatever amusement the crowd meddled in.

Only drawing nearer was I spared a chance to gain better view of that profile—For it was in fact, my first time of coming to meet the man I was to marry—Luca Bonnucci.

His gaze never took leave off mine, and with a look at that figure, one could say he was a splitting image of his father. Same lean frame, a copy of the same nose, not to forget those piercing his of his. Except his were dead, compared to the beaming ones of his father upon my entry.

He seemed to be the only one who appeared bored of the event about to take place in the room, that is, if I was to be excluded.

Perhaps that was all we shared in common—Despising each other.

I mean, I couldn't say I despised him. After all, it was only my first time of seeing him. I barely even knew who he was.

But I couldn't say the same of the young man who looked like he would shoot daggers at me any moment from now.

His gaze was sure to linger on my form, and while I drew nearer, I watched his eyes trail through me, until I came standing right before him.

Those eyes were the softest grey I had ever seen, gaze held strong, and perhaps if I hadn't been so lost in that profile, I would have caught onto the words of the priest just in time.

"Isabella?"

Only at the call of Father Mathew was I finally jolted. "It's time to hold hands" I heard those words.

For a long minute, we only remained stood here, staring into each other's gaze, neither wanting to budge, and while the silence was sure to sail around our forms, the eyes of Luca dared mine to falter.

"A-hem" Followed Father Mathew "Please, Join hands"

And a second later, the only calm I had gotten since the start of the day, had managed to find its way to me.

The way those hands slipped into mine, believe me, I could feel the twinge in my own fingers, heart found tightening, but whatever could I do, I kept onto his hold just right, and while the words of the priest seemed to go on and on, I wondered what Luca thought of at the moment, about to be forever bound to a lady whom he just met.

"Luca Bonnucci is everything one would wish for in a man" I remembered the words of Thalia, the head cook while she came to me last night, laying before me the same dinner I refused to eat. For just as father would choose to put it, I wasn't in my right state of mind, and chose to sulk.

"Luca Bonnucci is every dame's choice" I remembered those words so well. And even now, staring at the face before me, I could see the truth which backed up those words.

He made up for it.

He was even better that the papers praised him. high cheekbones, ruffled curls, straight brows, and lord help whoever those eyes chose to linger on, for they did all betraying my own gaze. Those eyes which went on scrutinizing the whole of me.

"Do you Isabella Campbell take Luca Bonnucci to be your lawfully wedded husband and promise to be faithful to him for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish him until death do you part?" The words of Father Mathew came.

Meanwhile, my own eyes were blank at that figure away.

This was it. I could turn away now, end all of this now, but every part of me knew the instant I was to do anything otherwise what father had planned, the trauma was all I would be introduced to.

Yet, no one cared about the trauma I was going through.

Could it be how life worked?

"I do" I uttered those words.

"Do you Luca Bonnucci take Isabella Campbell to be your lawfully wedded husband and promise to be faithful to him for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish him until death do you part?"

The silence which followed had my gaze keen on that form.

His eyes were only dull on me, eyes hard to read.

Was he revolted? Did the sight of me do so much having him appalled.

He could go to hell for all I cared. I never chose to be married to him anyways. In as much as it irked him, it narked me the most, and I couldn't ask for anything more that turning around, going back to the company of the man my heart yearned for.

All I wanted was to be in David's arms.

"I do"

That utterance of his had brought the collective sighs pouring into the room.

And for a second, I felt his his grip on my hands tighten, eyes never letting go of mine.

"...And now, I pronounce you Husband and Wife"

And that, dear reader, marked our Genesis.