Keira's Wedding

Fiction by Mia

Keira held her breath as she started to pass by the pew where Adjani was sitting. Her dress’s lace got caught up in the bundled lilies that were hung on the pew’s end. Maybe this was a sign. She slowly fingered the lace, trying to disentangle it from the flowers but her eyes never left Adjani’s profile. He did not dare turn his face to look at her as all the guests in the church had done.

“Please…look at me. At least look at me,” Keira thought fiercely. Adjani didn’t move. He sat uncomfortably straight and stiff in the pew, staring straight ahead. She gave up all hope of telepathy.

Finally untangled, Keira continued her slow cadence to the priest and her groom. She knew then that Adjani wouldn’t protest. He was probably there for closure on their relationship.

Her father gave her to Thomas and took his seat with her mother who was already crying with joy. Thomas beamed at Keira and she smiled back at him. The priest began the Catholic rites and the union was underway.

Then the tense part for every traditional wedding. Is there anyone present who feels that these two should not be married? Speak now or forever hold your peace.

Adjani’s demeanor never changed. He would not speak up for his true love. He was going to let her get married to another.

Keira’s stomach was knotted and she started to sweat. Adjani wasn’t moving although she was looking straight at him. Her mother noticed Keira’s intensity and followed her daughter’s gaze to Adjani. Thomas noticed, also. Everyone was now looking at Adjani.

Nothing. No protest from him. A collective sigh of relief came from the Keira’s relatives and the priest was about to continue the ceremony.

“I protest,” a voice echoed forward from the far back, on the left.

Two hundred heads whipped around to find a young man, finely dressed in Armani, standing in the back, gripping the pew in front of him.

Keira’s mouth dropped open. Thomas looked stricken. The priest cussed under his breath.

This young man with his brown, curly hair was unknown to everyone at the wedding. A hum of whispering began. Who is he? How does he know Keira?
Keira’s parents looked confused. Her mother stepped up to Keira and started whispering in her ear.

“I don’t know, mum!” Keira shot back.

The young man in the back made his way through the pews towards the pulpit. He stretched out his hand to Keira. Keira shot a glance towards Adjani. No movement. He didn’t even register that a complete stranger had protested this wedding while he had not.

Keira made a decision. A decision that would change her life and the life of Carrie Smythe, a young woman who was to be married in the church down the street in half an hour.

She turned back to Thomas and handed him her bouquet. His face was red and he was visibly gritting his teeth.

“I can’t marry you, Thomas. This man was right to protest,” whispered Keira. She turned and took the man’s hand.

The man was smiling and led her back down the aisle and past all of the shocked guests. Nobody, not even Thomas or Adjani, made a move to stop them.

Bursting out of the ornate, wooden doors of the church, Keira and the man stood on the top of the stairs and started laughing. She laughed the laugh of someone freed from a future they did not want. He laughed at the deepness of Keira’s laughter.

“Let’s run,” he stated. Keira thought about her high heels.

“Hold on, let me take off my heels,” she replied while leaning on him to catch her balance to do so.

“Keira, come on, you know that you’re already wearing your trainers,” he replied seriously.

She lifted her dress high enough to see the Nike swoosh on her trainers. When did that happen? She giggled nervously. The man grabbed her hand and started heading down the stairs. She kept up with him as they started sprinting down the river walk next to the Thames.

“Hold on…my dress…it’s catching…,” Keira said breathlessly.

“Stop it, Keira,” he replied, “Look at the Thames.” Keira slowed down her pace and looked at the river. The white ribbons and lace that had adorned her dress were lazily floating down to its surface. They looked exactly like the doves that Thomas had wanted at the wedding. Yards of white material were already buoying in the current. She looked down and realized she was wearing an electric-blue track suit. The man was also outfitted in perfect running gear. When did that happen?

The man pulled her forward again to start sprinting. She kept up with him as now she was properly dressed for running. She felt confused but much happier than before.

They finally stopped near Big Ben. Keira leaned over and rested her hands on her thighs to catch her breath. She could faintly hear the bells of Westminster Abbey.

“Keira, this is the perfect place to confess,” the man stated matter of factly.

“Yes,” she puffed, “the Abbey.”

“Well, the Abbey and also because we’re at the intersection I need to be at for the next wedding,” he stated. She looked up at him. He was wearing Armani.

Keira looked over to her left. The church of St. Thomas. She watched as happy guests were arriving for another wedding. The signs out front indicated that Carrie Smythe would be united in holy matrimony with Cameron Larson.

“You’re leaving me?” Keira had caught her breath and looked at the man in confusion.

“Aye. I did what I was supposed to do. I have to go help Carrie, now,” he remarked and started walking towards St. Thomas.

Keira followed him with her eyes but remained at the intersection. She felt so confused but so free. She did not go after him and she knew she would never talk to him again.

She didn’t know what to confess so she turned and slowly headed towards the nearest pub and took a seat next to the window. She ordered a plate of chips and a Cameron’s Strong Arm ale. She wolfed down the greasy chips and ordered another plate and another ale. She licked her greasy fingers and wiped them on her track suit and began to laugh.

The ornate, wooden door to St. Thomas’s church swung open and there on the top steps stood the man in Armani and a confused bride.