Speak Now

“Speak now…” - I take a deep breath in - “...or forever hold your peace.”

I hold that breath and wait anxiously, counting seconds in my head.

One -

Maybe he didn’t come. Maybe the text I read right before I got out of the limo to walk down the aisle was a joke. Maybe it was one last play at mind games and nothing was going to come.

Two -

Out of the corner of my eye, I silently plead for the minister to continue. To proclaim me a wife, and let me release this breath in my chest. I stare into the eyes of my fiance and I offer a slight smile, a tiny nod of the head. A sign of reassurance that this is fine.

Three -

I take a chance and glance around at our guests. Our family and friends stare up at us, smiling, teary-eyed. This day has been eagerly anticipated for months, if not years, and everyone seems genuinely happy for us to be finalizing what seems fated in the stars.

Four -

I start to release my breath before I pass out. My heart rate begins to slow, and I squeeze his fingertips, the man across from me whom I have chosen to spend my life with.

Five -

The minister raises the microphone to his mouth, ready to announce the newly weds. I smile at my soon to be husband, a big smile, the kind that crinkles my eyes and my forehead.

“Stop.”

I freeze. My heart skips.

“Excuse me,” asks the minister, searching for who would speak up on a day like today. “Did someone say stop to this marriage?”

“Yes.”

A curt reply. I feel my breath come in shorter and faster. The earth tilts to one side.

“And who is making such a claim?” asks the minister.

“Her husband,” replies the man walking up the aisle towards me.

I hear gasps all around. My fiance calls my name, but the noise echoes around me, and I fall to the floor.

***

I awake to the sounds of hushed whispers and I feel something soft under my head. I am afraid to open my eyes, to see the remnants of the destruction that must have happened in the moments since I passed out. If I never open my eyes, I feel as if I can pretend it was a terrible dream. A nightmare the night before my wedding, and everything will be fine when the night is over.

“She’s awake,” someone notices. I slowly blink my eyes open and see my mother’s face staring down at me. Behind her, my fiance, and behind him - a smirk on his face - my husband.

I blink at him, and move my eyes back to my fiance, trying to figure out how to explain this turn of events. I take a deep breath in and hold it, counting the seconds.

One -

How do you explain to someone that you were going to marry that you already are - were - married? What words make the fact that you have been living a lie feel better? When is the right time to find out about your future wife’s secret past?

Two -

How did he find me? I thought I had hidden so well. Someone must have told him, but who? Who can I trust, who must I now run away from… Why does he look so smug?

Three -

I can’t believe this is happening right now, with all of my family and friends here. I can’t believe this happened in front of him and his family and friends. I can’t believe I’ve hurt him like this.

Four -

His face - it’s… hopeful. His eyes still light up when he looks at me, and I can tell from the way he gives me a small smile that he will give me a chance to explain.

Five -

“Stop.”

He leans forward, “stop what? Do you need something?”

“Stop looking at me like that,” I say towards my husband. “How did you find me?”

“You didn’t think you could really escape forever, did you?” he replies.

I feel nauseous under his gaze and I sit up, leaning on my fiance. “I’m so sorry,” I begin, but I know that there’s nothing I can say that will make this moment easier. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been completely truthful with you.”

“Start at the beginning,” he says, “who is this man?”

“My husband… or it would be more accurate to say, my estranged husband. We were married when I was young. I thought he loved me, but I was wrong. He was abusive and one night when he came home, I was lucky to escape with my life. That was the day I knew I had to run, and I ran. I left my home, my friends, my family, and I drove as far as my car would take me. I changed my name with the help of an acquaintance, I got a job, I started over… I thought it would be okay and I would be fine until I met you.”

I glance up at my fiance, and I see him thinking about what I had said, staring at my husband. “I never wanted to tell you. I didn’t want you to see me as being weak… We had talked about not getting married, so I thought you’d never have to find out. But when you asked me that day at the river… I couldn’t say no to you. I love you so much, and you showed me what that love truly meant. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

I watch as a tear rolls down his cheek, and I notice my husband has moved closer, my mother keeping herself between the two of us. She didn’t know what happened between us, but hearing it now, I can see her bristle against him.

“I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you, that I couldn’t tell you,” I continue to my fiance, desperately needing him to understand that this is not what I meant to happen. “I’m sorry I tried to marry you while still being married, but when I started looking at the divorce process, I knew I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face him to ask him for a divorce, and I couldn’t afford an attorney to do it for me. I thought I could skirt around it with my new identity… But somehow he found out. He text me this morning saying that he was coming to claim what was rightfully his, and I was praying it was a joke… It looks like it was not a joke.”

My fiance gently presses me away from him, and I stifle a sob as I realize he’s standing up and leaving me on the floor. My mom sits beside me and wraps her arms around me as I sob. This is a fair reaction, and it’s one I should have expected. I was stupid to think I could get away with this for the rest of my life. I should have known he would find me.

I hear muffled voices from under my mother’s arms, and a shout, a crack, and a thud, and I open my eyes. I see my fiance shaking his hand out, and my husband laying on the floor.

“Speak now,” says my fiance, as he stares down at my husband. “Speak now.”

He comes back to me, picks me up in his arms, and holds me close to his chest. “I’m here,” he whispers in my ear, “you never have to be afraid again. We’ll get this divorce looked after, and when I can, I’m making you officially and forever mine. I’ll protect you,” and he kisses me on the forehead.

I look up at him through wet eyelashes and I say the only words I can think to speak, “thank you,” and I snuggle into his chest as he carries me away from my husband, our families, and our friends.