The Voice

She was having that dream again…

She and Maria were at the salon getting their hands and feet done.

“You know, she’s getting married today!” her best friend said to anyone within earshot.

Then they were meeting her mother for brunch. Her stomach was nervous so she only ordered the small fruit plate.

“It’s not just cold feet,” a quiet voice said. She took a bite of the pineapple. So sweet.

Then she was sitting quietly in the hotel suite, in a comfy chair in the corner. She watched her bridesmaids get dressed as they laughed and joked.

“I’ll do your makeup,” one called to her.

“Don’t do it,” the voice said calmly. She closed her eyes and began to hum.

“We’re spending over $15,000 on the reception,” her mother was telling the coordinator, proudly.

“You don’t have to go through with it,” the voice said. She gazed at her reflection in the mirror.

“You’ve never been more beautiful,” her father said, standing behind her, beaming.

Then she and her father were walking down the wide, flower-petaled aisle. She saw a sea of faces. Some she hadn’t seen in years; others, she couldn’t place at all.

“Such a gorgeous bride!” someone said. And up ahead, there he was, her husband-to-be. He smiled nervously as his best man elbowed him.

“Who gives this woman to be married?” asked the minister.

“Her mother and I do!” her father sang out loudly. Everyone laughed.

“You can stop this,” the voice said.

“Repeat after me…”

“I take this man…”

“You still have a choice.”

“Through sickness and health…”

“Walk away.”

“For better or for worse…”

“You don’t have to do this!”

“For richer, for poorer…”

“Don’t do this!”

“In the sight of God and these witnesses…”

A whisper.

“I do.”


“I now pronounce you, husband and wife.”

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