Okay, this one-shot was written originally for the D3 creative writing contest. It was written for the category Painful Love. Dedicated to all my girls (You know who you guys are).
Lavender. She hated the color, positively abhorred it. But the designer said it brings out her eyes and highlights the golden bronze of her skin. Usually, she was one to get her way in all matters. But this was not the time to throw a fit. She would trust the professional in this one and won't go with her gut. It was not a run of the mill event after all. This was once in a lifetime thing. Everything needed to be just perfect. In any case, the dress was not that bad after all. It accentuated her curves pretty well which normally seemed non-existent. There was a commotion outside the room as someone seemed to be having an argument. What now? Kria got her answer as Neha entered the room in a flurry of sky blue and glitters "It's a disaster. The lilies are not here yet." Neha was on the verge of a panic attack and Kria could not afford to have one of the bridesmaids fainting on her. "It's alright, Neha. We will make do with the white orchids." she smiled reassuringly in an attempt to pacify the stressed girl. "Oh fine, i will be at the hall." Neha said visibly relieved. It was obvious the hassle of the situation had gotten to her.
Kria started as the Backstreet boys made a cacophonous racket in her room. It was her phone. Everyone she knew was at the wedding. Who was calling her now? The display revealed the smiling face of the man who always made her heart skip. She picked up the phone to be greeted by his voice. A husky, manly voice that turned her insides into mush. "Meet me at the bridge, will you?" the voice said. She knew him enough to recognize the urgency in his voice. There were at least thousands of jobs that needed her attention. Also, a two hour long torture session with the makeup artist was pending. But she found herself yielding, like always.
She trudged across the dreary landscape as fast as her feet could carry her. The sky was painted with a palette of grey, stormy blues and blacks. It was a good thing they had decided on an indoor ceremony. A band of street actors was enacting a play near the bridge. "Romeo and Juliet", it said on the banners hung above.
She finally reached the bridge, nostalgia haunting her senses. They used to sit together on the railings, weaving stories on the lives of those who passed by. And now here they were themselves a part of those stories they weaved. And then she saw him, standing there, an impressive figure in a desolate site. Clad in a tailored tuxedo that emphasized his broad shoulders and presented a sharp contrast to his rugged features, he was gazing at the river that flowed beneath the bridge. Her heartbeat quickened and then developed a steady staccato that she had come to associate with him. He had once told her the sight of flowing water calmed him. That the gurgling clarity of water flowing let him abandon his worries. Judging by his stiff back and rigid demeanor, the water did not seem to be helping him much today.
"I thought you won't come. Is it not bad luck to see the groom before marriage?" he said in a quiet voice without turning his back. He had sensed her presence but that was not what made her raise her eyebrows. Since when did he start believing in superstitions?
"I do not think the bad luck theory applies to us, Reyansh." she replied with a wry twist of her lips. He sighed seemingly at war with himself about something. "You won't ditch me at the altar, will you?" the slight quiver in his voice caught her off guard. He was tensed and anxious and out of habit, her arms stretched, to reach out to him. To make an attempt to sooth his worries. "No, not now" a part of her berated herself and she withdrew them. "I will be there, till the end." she managed to utter in a hoarse voice. Yes, she will be there alright. With him till the end...even if it symbolized her end. His shoulders relaxed visibly as he finally turned around to pin her with his hazel-eyed gaze. He fully took in her dolled up form and his lips formed a lopsided grin. "Lavender looks horrible on you." he said in an amused tone. She had been expecting the jibe at her dress. "This is how it's supposed to be. The maid in honor is not supposed to look beautiful. The day should belong to your bride, Rey." Kria said in a steady tone. Her heart twisted in anguish as she said the obvious out loud. She had been pretending till now. Fooling herself to think that all of this was for her. But no, this day belonged to someone else. Specifically, the bride of the man she loved .
"I think you should leave. They would be searching for you at the venue." She whispered turning her back on him to avoid his intense gaze. His eyes said a story. They conveyed an emotion she was unwilling to decipher. Afraid she will lose herself in the process forever. Rey willed Kria to look at him once. He knew he had been cruel when he asked her to be the maid of honor at his wedding, aware she would not refuse. It was a callous and punishing move on his part. But she needed to do this. Her heart belonged to him. For her to completely move on, to erase all traces of his cursed existence from her life, he needed to crush it ruthlessly. His heart asked him to elope with her. That there was still time left. But he could not do that to her or to the woman he had promised himself to. He could live with the shame of ruining a life but he could not blight her purity with the guilt.
It seemed an eternity after, yet might have been just a second; she heard his footsteps leaving the bridge as he made his way back to the venue. Her knees buckled as collapsed on the stairs leading her here. His presence was fading when she finally allowed herself to look back at him. He was a tiny figure at the end of the bridge, growing tinier by the second. It was heart wrenchingly symbolic. They were at two ends of a bridge. A bridge that she had created and now was unable to cross. Her eyes strained to hold on to his figure, unwilling to let go of him yet. A sob, a single sob tore its way out of her throat and then she swallowed the rest of it. No, she will not breakdown. Not now when he was on his way to a new life. A new beginning. What kind of a goodbye would that be?
She looked up to see the band of actors enacting the final scene of their play. Romeo had died. Coward, Kria thought. This is what they call an immortal love story? A tragic love story? Where was the tragedy? Both the lovers found peace and stayed together. They had the comfort of knowing that their love is mutual. Life is the greatest tragedy of love. Finding the strength to move on, the paramount sacrifice. Love is painful. Especially when the villain of your life story, who shredded your being to pieces is the king of your heart.
Her phone rang and she picked it up hesitantly. "Where are you Kria? How am I supposed to manage a wedding without my maid of honor?" a good natured voice said over the phone. Kria smiled through her tears. Rey's fiancee was a kind soul. "You might want to practice your catching skills. I am planning to throw the bouquet towards you. That way you will get married next." the voice said excitedly. Comic affairs of fate. Only if this bride knew Kria was the one who had thrown her bouquet to her in the first place.
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