Storymoja

Celebrating East African Writing!

My Runaway Bridegroom by Selpher Azenga

Dilemma, No, that would be an understatement. Today is my boyfriend’s wedding or is it ex-boyfriend? I really was so confused, when I read it in the newspaper. He was marrying my high school mate and best friend for many years. Since the devastating news, my concerned friends have been calling me to do something dramatic. But my answer was no, I had no time for a war of words, or much less a physical fight. I believe fighting over a man would make me look like complete fool while the man not only became arrogant but proud. I was going to punish him in my own way.

I had spent sleepless nights, tossing and turning in my bed, crying myself hoarse and dry. But on this particular night, things grew from bad to worse; my sadness would not allow me a wink of sleep. So I reluctantly revisited the good old days with nostalgia, cursing inwardly that someone had put a spell on me.

We had courted for four years, it was love at first sight and he couldn’t get enough of me and I of him. Our love grew and blossomed and I loved him more and more each day, the movie dates, night’s outs, flowers, cards and chocolates ruled the relationship. The day he proposed simply brought tears of joy to my eyes and I couldn’t stop looking at the beautiful ring on my finger. We became inseparable and anyone opposing our love met our wrath and was dismissed. I threw all caution to the wind, I was dangerously in love.

We were into our wedding plans when I realized that I was pregnant. The news of my pregnancy aroused in me different emotions. Shock registered on my face, it was soon replaced by happiness, but my happiness often gave way to sadness. Nonetheless, I decided to inform my sweetheart about our bundle of joy. But he wouldn’t hear any of it but informed me rather crudely that I should either abort or forget the wedding.

That I loved this man there was no doubt, but I loved my baby too. How could the man I was going to marry, the father of my baby tell me to kill our own baby?  He vanished and never contacted again. I waited for him but all in vain and it soon became apparent that he wasn’t coming back.

But when I learned of his wedding, I dried my tears and decided I had to be strong for the sake of my baby. I had to do what had to be done. Who the hell did he think he was, trying to escape responsibilities?

I woke up from my reverie, Oh my God! It was already ten o’clock; I would be late for my big day if I didn’t hurry up. I rushed to the shower, quickly dressed in my wedding gown and made up. I looked at my image on the huge mirror, my designer had done a good job on the gown, and my bump was concealed.

The chauffeur hurried me to church, this day that was going to change my life completely. The setting of the church was so beautiful and I could hear the organ playing “here comes the bride” as I made my entrance slowly. With the veil over my head I was able to take a discreet unobserved look at my audience. I could see my lovely Bruno, handsome as ever, smiling, his eyes radiant with happiness. He looked very smart in his white tuxedo.

I tried to savor every moment because I knew what was coming after the ceremony was over. I edged closer to the altar to the sounds of the organ which was accompanied by a full choir.

I throw a glance at the congregation, all eyes on me, my heart flutters and my eyes moisten. His family and my friends are present. I hand myself over to my smiling Bruno, placing my hand over his hand and we face the priest.

“Family and friends, we are gathered here to celebrate today the joyous union of Bruno and Cynthia.” the priest drones on, the name of my rival sending cold shivers down my spine. The priest gives a short sermon and we start our vows.

“I Bruno, take you Cynthia as my lawfully wedded wife, in health and in sickness, for better or for worse until death parts us”.  We exchange rings after vowing and the priest announces, “I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride”

The church turns jubilant, as the air is filled with ululations, claps and dancing.  Before Bruno makes for my veil so as to kiss me, with swift movements, I lift off the veil myself and give Bruno the greatest smile of my life.

The jubilance and wild frenzy of song and dance dies in a mid wave before climax giving way to a stunning silence, a silence so loud that you could hear a needle drop. Shock registers on his face as the truth dawns on him; I take hold of my gown and make a run for my life down the aisle; the perfect runaway bride, passing the would-be bride (Cynthia) crying hysterically.

I jump into the waiting car which is to take me on my honeymoon, yes, honeymoon with my baby.

© Selpher Azenga 2009

If you would like this piece to be the Story of the Week, please vote below on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being weak, and 10 being excellent. The numbers will be tallied on Friday and the story with the highest figure shall be Crowned Story of the Week. Be sure to fill in your name and verifiable email. You can include your critique/comment after the vote.

2 comments on “My Runaway Bridegroom by Selpher Azenga

  1. 06mickey
    October 13, 2009

    Well written and captivating. Loved it!

  2. Sheila
    October 14, 2009

    I love the tension I felt reading through this! An 8!

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