Part 19
Reclining in an armchair with members of my family, wearing a formal black suit and tie, I observed the preparation of the garden gazebo with admiration. It was exactly the way we'd always imagined our big days to be. We'd agreed on just about every feature of the ceremony, and watching everything come together was like seeing your fantasies coming to life before our very eyes. Our location was a Victorian house in the English countryside, comfortably secluded and a great contrast from the hustle and bustle of city life. Cars were parked around the corner and our families and friends were gathering in the open garden, chattering happily.
When we'd arrived at the house, Paul gently hustled me outside and told me to stay there, with the excuse that he had to make one final preparation. I was curious but too excited about the ceremony to enquire, so I did as I was ordered and stayed on the back porch, catching up with loved ones. Time was ticking closer and closer to the scheduled commencement of the ceremony, and the flutters were increasing with each passing minute. The happiest time of my life was steadily approaching and I wasn't quite sure how to prepare myself for it. I decided just to enjoy every moment like I should.
When the arm on my wrist watch clicked over to 11:55, five minutes before the ceremony was due to start, the door creaked open and Paul emerged from the house. He leant against the architrave with his arms folded across his chest, a wide grin on his face. As I turned my head in his direction, I noticed his hair - or lack of hair. When we'd arrived his hair cascaded down to his shoulders, but now I saw what the 'final preparation' was. His hair had been trimmed much shorter, ending just below his ears, and with assistance from a tube of gel he'd made small spikes throughout his tresses. Combined with a suit similar to my own, he looked magnificent.
Rising from the armchair, I wolf-whistled teasingly. "Well, looky what we have here!"
He chuckled, delighted with my response, and did a short twirl to show me the back of his hair. "I was going to do it before today but I wanted it to be a surprise! What do you think?"
I cupped his face in my hands and placed a short, sweet kiss on his lips. "Is it possible for you to be any more gorgeous?"
He grinned wider and pulled me into a hug, squeezing me gently.
"It's finally happening," he whispered into my ear. I could hear the excitement and happiness in his voice.
"Is it everything you've wanted?" I asked.
"Everything and more," he replied, holding me tighter. After a moment of silence, enjoying the comfort of being so close to one another, he pulled away and suggested, "How about we say hi to everyone before we start?"
Five minutes wasn't nearly enough time to greet every guest, but we managed to get around to our immediate family before we were approached by the celebrant. After announcing to the guests that they need to gather at the gazebo, he turned to Paul and I and said with a smile, "Are you ready?"
I wrapped an arm over Paul's shoulder and replied, "Of course we are."
The celebrant turned and led us towards the gazebo as our families took their places in their chairs and watched us approaching. I saw my mother standing towards the front of the gathering, dabbing her eyes with a hankerchief as most mothers do at these celebrations. My father stood tall and beamed with pride. Paul looked at his parents holding each-other's hands. As we walked down the aisle dividing the assembly, seeing my mother weeping almost made me do the same - not once in my life had I felt so sublimely happy. The celebrant stood in front of us and set the sacred atmosphere by routinely lighting a series of candles placed nearby. The wind was calm and didn't disturb the flames.
After the celebrant greeted the congregation and made an introduction to the ceremony, the time came for a piece i'd requested to be added to the proceeding. Silently praying that I wouldn't forget a word, I turned to face Paul and held each of his hands in mine, unable to wipe the blissful smile from my face. My mother loudly choked back a sob, breaking the silence. I tried not to giggle as I stared into Paul's eyes, which were filled with tears. Taking a deep breath and stroking his hands with my thumbs, I began to recite a poem from Walt Whitman.
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road
Healthy, free, the world before me
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms
Strong and content I travel the open road
I inhale great draughts of space
The east and the west are mine, and the north and the south are mine
I am larger, better than I thought
I did not know I held so much goodness
Comrade, I give you my hand
I give you my love more precious than money
I give you myself before preaching or law
Will you give me yourself?
Will you come travel with me?
Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?
As I uttered the final words, two tears rolled down Paul's cheeks, trickling down to his lips. His mother good-naturedly offered him a tissue from her seat nearby, which he politely refused as he wiped the tears away with the tip of his finger.
After our vows and the exchanging of the rings, the celebrant made his pronouncement and said, outstretching his arms beside him, "Will the guests please rise and welcome the new couple!" The congregation burst into delighted applause and cheers, tossing rose petals into the air. 'I Swear' by All-4-One began to play in the background. Paul and I laughed as the petals fell onto us, then held one another close as we shared our first kiss as life partners. The cheering heightened as we did so, his happy tears mingling with my own.
But the blessedness was cut short by a loud gunshot from within the garden.
I jolted forward into Paul's arms, my eyes widened with shock. The pain was immediate and intense, and I could already feel the back of my clothing beginning to dampen. People began to scream around us, and the celebrant shouted for everyone to crouch to the ground, unable to be heard over the surrounding hysteria.
"Rich!!" Paul screamed, trying to hold me steady, his face filled with horror. "Oh my God! RICH!!"
"Somebody call an ambulance!" someone shouted over the noise. My parents wept openly, huddling and holding each-other protectively. Already I was feeling myself beginning to fade, and unable to keep my strength, I dropped limply to the ground with Paul's arms around me. He, too, was crying.
"Rich, no!" he sobbed, peeling off his coat and pressing it against the wound on my back. He raised his head and shouted, "Somebody help him!" As brave people began running with record speed towards the house, he sat on the ground with me and cradled me in his arms, pressing his cheek against my own. "Rich, please, hold on! Don't leave me! Please, Rich, I can't lose you, I can't lose you now!"
My lips moved slightly but no sound could be heard. I weakly slipped my hand into his and squeezed it with as much strength as I had left. With his tears staining my face, I fell into darkness.
Part 20