Page 16 of Something Old

The constant bombardment ofcongratulations, andI wish you two all the happiness, andwowyou look so in love- I can’t take it anymore. I want this night to be over so that I can go home, take off this fucking tuxedo and sleep.

Maybe when I wake up in the morning, this will all be a bad dream.

Of course, no matter how much I pretend it’s all a nightmare - I know Leora is coming home with me. My home is now her home.

My father arranged for her things to be brought over earlier this week and now she is going to be living with me from tonight.

Fuck sakes.

What the hell is happening to my life?

All night I have been keeping her at a polite distance to try not to give her the wrong idea.

It’s clear she is thrilled by all of this. She’s having the time of her life.

I’ve been watching her all night, and she hasn’t stopped smiling once.

Every chance she gets she clings on to me, holding me, wrapping her arms around me, holding my hand -

I am going to have to be stricter about all of this in order to make it even more clear after tonight.

This whole thing is just for show.

She needs to understand that.

There is no love here and there never will be.

That mistake I made the other night kissing her - it’s haunting me even more now that we are married.

Fuck. Married. I can’t believe it.

Our first dance ends and with relief I step away from her as other guests flood the dance floor.

She tries to pull me back towards her and I shake my head.

“I’m done dancing, Leora.” I say. Her eyes soften a little, a small amount of the sparkle leaves them.

I know she isn’t happy about me putting boundaries up - but she needs to learn the reality of us being married.

It’s still early for a party and some guests are only just feeling the vibe of the champagne now. I will not stay much longer though.

Besides, even just for show, they would expect a newlywed couple to want to rush off home. It won’t be weird if I grab my wife and leave my own celebration.

With that thought I smile. Now is as good a time as any. We’ve done all the things required for a traditional ceremony. We’ve danced, cut the cake, listened to the speeches, thrown the garter - yes - I can leave now.

I walk straight towards Nathan. My right-hand man.

“Have the driver bring the car around front. I’m ready to leave.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And bring my wife. She can meet me in the car.”

I don’t even have the patience to wait and walk out with her at this point. I’ve used up every bit of my will power on pretenses this evening.

I grab my tuxedo jacket off the back of my chair at the bride and groom’s table. Tossing it over my shoulder and I walk straight out of the venue without looking back and without making eye contact with a single person because I am not in the mood to get roped into one more conversation about what it feels like to be a married man now.

The driver is already there when I step outside into the cool night air.

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