With a look of confusion, he observed her before clearing his throat. “Let me repeat myself,” he offered, laughing in an attempt to break the tension, yet his polite smile seemed forced, more discomfort than mirth. He almost seemed to pity her.
“Julia,” the priest started once more, “Do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?” Julia felt as though she was choking on the words, her throat tight with nerves. She glanced down at her hands, clasping those of an elderly man. She looked up to find Harold, a man 37 years her senior, standing in front of her.
She had never envisioned her life unfolding this way. Her wedding day was meant to be the happiest of her life; an event filled with laughter, applause, and warm wishes for the newlyweds. She had dreamt of arriving in a Cinderella-like dress, exchanging vows with an exceptionally handsome man. She wore the dress alright, but the man standing before her was a far cry from her ideal groom. Life, it appeared, had diverged from her plans. Or was this more than life’s doing? It was hard to believe this was her fate. This was not about destiny or the path she was supposed to tread. This was entirely her own intricate scheme.