Free Hold Your Peace (Short Story) by H.M. Bailey

 
    Standing at the altar, time seemed to freeze. I wanted to remember this moment forever.  So many times I had played this scene over in my mind. I was about to become Dana Murphy. Mrs. Ryan Murphy. Mrs. Murphy. Would I ever get tired of saying my new name? I looked into Ryan’s piercing green eyes that stared back into mine. They were full of love and held a twinkle of excitement. Our future was starting today.
    All of the planning, the meetings with photographers and caterers and decorators had been worth it. I had dreamed of the perfect wedding since I was a little girl. And now, t he church was a vision of wedding perfection that any bride would drool over. Every detai l was exquisite from t he strapless chiffon bridesmaid dresses and the fragrant bouque ts on the pews to the twenty page wedding programs and the Swarovski crystal butterflies in my flower girl’s hair. I was wearing the perfect designer wedding gown that looked like it had been made just for me. The planning had been stressful at times, but nothing worthwhile comes easy and every moment of stress was erased by the immense joy in my heart.
    Everyone that we loved was there, supporting us, watching us about to becom e husband and wife.  Even m y father, who never cries, had eyes wet with tears as he escorted me down the aisle to my waiting groom. I was taking mental snapshots of every moment and saving them to an album in my mind.
    I looked back at Ryan. Not only was he drop-dead gorgeous with his movie star smile and chiseled features , he treated me like I was a princess . He was a gentleman who was compassionate, caring and loved kids. He had a successful veterinary practice and a heart for animals. I had definitely found Mr. Right. I met him two years ago and it was love at first sight. We dated for about a year before he proposed on a beach in Mexico and had the spent the last year planning our dream wedding.
    As the wedding ceremony was coming to a close, I was giddy with excitement. The vows had been said, unity candle lit and rings exchanged. My stomach felt like I was on a roller coaster. Staring at Ryan, I could hear Father Patrick asking, “ Should anyone here present know of any just reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace. ”
    Why is that line even included in wedding ceremonies anymore? I t’s true that I had wanted a traditional service, so we kept it in, but really. Anyone who has met us knows that we are perfect for each other. There is absolutely no reason for us not to be joined in holy matrimony. But suddenly, there was a voice. A woman’s voice , coming from the back of the church.
    “I know of a reason,” the voice said.
    Wait. What?
    Was this a joke?
    Everyone in the church turned to see who was attempting to stop our nuptials.  Even the string quartet behind the altar had strained their necks to get a view of this disruption. I pulled my veil up over my face so that I could get a good look, too. What we saw was a stunning blond woman standing in the aisle in the back of the church. She was about 5’10 with long, shiny gold en hair and the body of a model, her short black dress hugging every curve. I had no idea who she was, but even in all the glory of my wedding beauty, I felt inadequate next to this woman. I was about 5’3 with brown eyes and mousy brown hair that was pulled into a chignon today. She looked like a blond, bronzed goddess.
    As she started walking slowly up the aisle, I wondered what in the world was going on. Was I on some sort of hidden camera show? Were my bridesmaids in on this crazy idea? But a quick look at their faces told me that they had no clue what was happening, either. Then I spied Ryan’s face. His expression wasn’t one of confusion, like the one I wore, but rather one of horror. His mouth was wide open. “Mandy?” he choked .
    “Oh my God! Amanda!” I heard his mother gasp.
    “I’ m Ryan’s fiancé and I can’t let this