May18, 2005

It had come to this. She had had nine years to set things straight, to do what she had wanted to do. Nine years supporting this fiancé of hers while getting little to nothing in return. She had planned the entire wedding, using his money of course, but every little detail was hers – right down to the groomsmen and bridesmaids wearing colors that matched the colors of his football team. Here she was, standing in front of the man that she had grown comfortable with, the man that she had given up everything for, now was not the time to be having second thoughts. Now was not the time that she should consider bolting down the aisle in her couple thousand dollar Vera Wang wedding dress. No, this entire situation was wrong in every possible way.

“Pammy…” he said tracing little, insistent circles on the top of her hands. “Pammy…”

Her eyes darted up towards him and her mouth dropped open a little, forming a small ‘o’. His features were so rough now; she guessed that was what playing football since middle school would do to a man.

“Pammy, it’s your turn to recite the vows…” he said, his eyes urging her on. She looked around at the sea of guests sitting out in their perfect white lawn chairs. She looked behind her at her two bridesmaids who were urging her on silently. She looked over his shoulder at his line of five groomsmen.

“Who on earth has five groomsmen when I only have two bridesmaids?” she wondered.

The grip he had on her hands tightened, she could feel sweat starting to slick across her fingers and she wasn’t sure if it was his sweat or hers.

“Pam,” the minister said leaning closer to her. “Do you need me to recite the vows for you again?”

She choked back tears, “No…I…” she took a deep breath. “I, Pamela…” she choked on her own name and looked up at the man standing with her hands in his. His forehead was furrowed with confusion and concern. He started to mouth out the vows, but she only shook her head slowly.

“Pammy, what’s wrong?” he asked, pulling her hands closer to him.

“I…” she looked out at the sea of people. So many people. So many people who were expecting to see two people get married; so much money had been spent so these people could be here seeing the elaborate spectacle that was taking place underneath the white arch draped with ivy and white lilies with the professional string quartet off to the side.

“Pam,” the minister persisted.

“I…” she could feel her voice shaking; she could feel her entire body shaking. She looked her fiancé in the eyes and frowned as a small tear escaped from her bottom eyelid. Nine years. Nine years she had spent with him. Nine years she had had the chance to get out of it. She had to wait nine years…

“Pammy, please,” he begged, his eyes pleading, his hands tugging against hers.

“I’m sorry,” she said as two more tears fell down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Roy. I just, I can’t.”

Her hands slipped from his and she quickly turned around and ran as a sea of people clamored into action.