The Intended Bride

Five years back.
He’d kissed her on the cheek, hugged her goodbye and told her to enjoy herself. Then he’d watched her board the boat.
He’d watched her turn and blow him a kiss, her brown hair blowing around her face. He’d watched the boat pull out of the harbor, regretting his pile of work; wishing he could go along.
Then he’s turned and walked the sixteen blocks to his office.

Three days later. “Missing, presumed drowned” the newspapers had said. Glossy pictures of laughing couples and smiling young ladies were printed next to the article. “off for an afternoon’s outing” they’d printed. A list of the sixteen dead was printed the next day. Caroline, his fiancée was on that list.
The days he’d spent worrying melted into numbness. Numbness and emptiness. Without his laughing, brown haired, would-be bride, the laughter faded from his eyes. Strands of gray quickly speckled his chestnut brown hair. Wrinkles and dark circles shadowed his once young face.

Then he’d met Jen. She was quiet and sweet, her eyes smiled the way Caroline’s had. Their love was different than his and Caroline’s, quieter and less fierce; less affectionate. But they were fond of one another and that would be enough.
He stood next to the preacher, watching her father walk her down the aisle. Finally she stood beside him, her smiling eyes looking trustfully up into his. It was the flash of lilac that caught his eye, instantly bringing to mind Caroline, the lilac dress she’d worn that fateful day. He turned, following the flash with his eyes.

There she was, standing against the back wall; near the doorway. She was smiling at him, as if nothing had changed. Entranced, he released Jen’s hand and walked toward her, slowly, not really believing his eyes.

“Caroline?” he asked incredulously “where have you been?”

“I’m sorry” she said, her voice carrying a strange sort of music. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long.”

“Couldn’t you have sent word?” he demanded, suddenly remembering that it had in fact been five years.

“No” she said softly “I’m sorry Derek.”

“Where have you been?” He asked insistantly.

A mischievous smile flitted across her face.

“Follow me” she said, taking his hand. “I’ll show you.”

So he followed. The wedding guests watched, puzzled, as the groom left the stand and his bride. Engrossed, they watched as he carried on a lively dialog with the back wall. Shocked, they watched him fall to the floor, lifeless. Jen let out a cry and fainted.

Oblivious to the chaos, Derek followed his intended bride. His face was peaceful, the smile had returned to his eyes. It was as if she’d never left.