by Vivien Vale
And with that, he’s gone again. I collapse in disbelief at the magic moment I’d just lived.
Dante
It’s fucking decision time.
I’m standing in the middle of Piazza San Marco, Saint Mark’s Square. I’m observing the ebb and flow of people around me. Clearly, this is the epicenter for the carnival, which is well under way.
But the festivities don’t move me. I’m in no mood to celebrate. I feel like a nutshell on the ocean being tossed around by a storm; my mind is in turmoil.
I have never been so torn in my entire life.
Should I tell Nicole the truth? That Ryan isn’t coming? That he’s leaving her stranded on her wedding day?
Or should I continue with the deception I started this morning?
It feels wrong, but then again, kissing Nicole felt so right. It satisfied a need in me I never knew I had.
A stream of college kids on spring break rushes past, exhilarated, roaring with laughter. They’re having the time of their lives with wild abandon. The anonymity of the masks makes them bold.
Yet the carnival in Venice is entirely different from Mardi Gras in New Orleans or the Caribbean carnival. It must be the magnificent and palatial buildings with their splendid stonework all around. They lend the festivities, the pleasure, and indulgence a genteel air.
It’s magical, and it almost feels as if I’ve been transported back in time—to an era of chivalry, knights and honor.
Honor.
The word resonates with me.
Chivalry.
I watch the gaping tourists snap pictures, turning in circles. The throng of people continues on around them. The locals know how to navigate their city, even when it’s chock-full of visitors at this time of the year.
I have to admire the distinct styles of the different carnival masks, so steeped in tradition as I’ve learned from the guidebook. There’s the Colombina half-mask, the Medico della peste with the bird-like beak, harlequins, the iconic Volto masks in festive gold, stark white, and gaudy feathers.
How intriguing to meet a masked stranger and complete each other...even if only for a night. Or a lifetime, it occurs to me suddenly.
I should be drifting joyfully through this procession, drinking it all in without a care. But I realize I’m stalling because I feel incomplete.
I have left an essential piece of myself with Nicole when I stepped out of her hotel suite this morning.
I do care about her. Nicole, this sweet and fragile girl, so innocent.
And Ryan wants me to lie to her. That idiot is still in Rome, in the wrong fucking city for crying out loud. But he’s also balling whatever skanky slut he can’t resist this time around.
That must be satisfying his primal urges so deeply that he’s blowing off his own wedding—his wedding with Nicole, of all women.
Nicole...beautiful and shining. The best woman one could ever meet.
He wants me, his best man, to simply take care of things, like I’m the clean-up crew to his fuck-ups. As if I’m paying off a prostitute he screwed.
Ryan is one messed-up guy, but I’ve always given him the benefit of the doubt no matter what neck-deep shit that asshole got himself into.
Sometimes, friendship is blind to a man’s faults.
I’ve always bailed Ryan out of jail in the middle of the night, no questions asked. But to break Nicole’s heart over a lay in Rome? To shatter that girl’s dreams of the wedding she’s always wanted?
I’ve worked myself into a rage over Ryan, and my breathing is heavy. My face feels damp, and I remember the mask that’s still on my face. No one in this crowd can tell who I am.
I’ve always been adventurous and daring. I’ve never been afraid to jump headfirst into anything, to enjoy life and live to the fullest.
Which also means I’ve never even considered marrying anyone. I didn’t believe the perfect wife could be out there. Then Ryan finds her, finds Nicole—and rejects her.
Who am I? I’m not so sure anymore because Nicole has brought out a completely new side in me.
From the minute we met, I had wanted to protect her. Save her like I did when I fished her out of the canal.
I know I have to protect her from what Ryan is about to inflict on her, to save her from an absolute nightmare.
That baboon Ryan has made up his mind not to show up to his wedding...
But what if the wedding proceeds without him?
I have everything I need. I’m wearing Ryan’s costume. I’m hidden under the mask.
I have the rings in my pocket, and Nicole will think I’m Ryan—like she did this morning.
Although I don’t think she ever kissed him the way we did. I certainly haven’t experienced a kiss like the one we shared.
It was the best kiss of my life.
Full of cosmic energy, it was a kiss that makes you believe that deep down, it’s love that holds the world together. The world? I mean the universe.
We were like two stars revolving around each other before exploding into a supernova.
I could tell that she felt it, too. She entrusted her entire being to me; she abandoned herself in that kiss and came back different, new.
The way she looked at me afterwards. It was me she wanted, not Ryan.
Do I have an inkling of doubt? Not about Nicole.
She’s the perfect wife. She’s all I could ever want.
Just the day before, I had never imagined that someone like her could even exist. If I hadn’t met her, I’d have dared go through life alone.
Sure, flirting and flings are one thing. But Nicole, she’s turned me around completely. I thought I’d pity her for falling for Ryan.
Now I nearly pity Ryan because he hadn’t recognize her perfection.
Will there be consequences? Not that I ever concern myself with fall-outs, but yeah, it means that it’s over between Ryan and me.
Every asshole deserves a best friend, but fuck him, let him find a new ‘best man’ to his schemes and debauchery.
Let him rot in Rome with that slut with whom he betrayed his fiancé.
A bell tolls, and I’m sucked back into reality. My surroundings begin to fade in again.
I’m still standing in San Marco’s Square, and I realize I’ve been staring at the Basilica the whole time. San Marco’s Basilica is the most famous church in Venice, and its impressive Byzantine architecture towers above everyone.
Its walls and cupolas are covered in thousands of ornate tile mosaics. I’m reminded of Nicole’s love for art and her creativity, the fine and skilled strokes of the pen with which she did the sketch for me.
Nicole has chosen this unique and romantic place for her wedding.
Our wedding.
The picture is coming together in my mind, with me as her groom.
I take a decided step forward and become one with the surging crowd. The swarm of people have grown thicker; the buzzing atmosphere has intensified. I fight my way across the square to find the spot for the wedding just outside the entrance to the Basilica.
As I approach, I realize how electrifying it is. An intimate ceremony in the middle of the party that is the height of Venice’s carnival. I spot the priest, standing tall in his robes.
There’s blonde Allison and right beside her...Nicole, my future wife.
I linger for a moment to take in her stunning beauty and how absolutely impressive she looks in that elegant dress, fitted at the waist with a flaring skirt.
Immediately, I picture her gorgeous figure underneath, how she must look when I peel that dress from her…
Nicole is looking around, hopefully and expectantly. Then, she spots me.
“Ryan!”
I step forward.
“Ryan McCray?” the priest asks me solemnly.
I nod. “Present!”
“Where’s the best man?” he asks.
Allison looks at me. “Yeah, where is Dante?”
“Dante,” I begin. “Well, the best man couldn’t make it at the
last minute.”
Allison scrunches up her face, and I’m excited to detect a slight hint of disappointment in Nicole’s eyes.
“It’s my understanding that the best man isn’t absolutely necessary to the ceremony?” I ask the priest. “My apologies for the inconvenience. Can we begin without him?”
“Do you have the rings?”
“Of course.” I pat my pocket.
The priest begins the recital he has prepared.
“We have gathered here today,” and he looks at me, then Nicole, then Allison, “to celebrate the special love between Nicole Collins and Ryan McCray, by joining them in marriage.”
I’m elated; our ceremony begins just as the carnival party all around us lifts off to new heights. It’s incredibly thrilling to stand in such a small gathering, bonding myself to Nicole, while ripples of excitement pass through the celebrating crowd around us.
“Nicole and Ryan,” the priest goes on, “your marriage today is the public and legal joining of your souls that have already been united as one in your hearts.”
He continues with the ceremony, and I recall the vows I’ve written for Ryan after meeting Nicole.
Those won’t do. In my head, I begin putting together an impromptu speech—vows that are going to come straight from my heart.
Nicole
Had his eyes always been this deep and dark? Or is it because of his mask?
As I look at his eyes and listen to his melodic voice, I feel a tingling sensation spread through me faster than a whirlwind.
“While I considered what to say today, I can’t help thinking of all the memories that we’ve made in such a short time. Nicole, I’m excited to make many more memories with you as my wife.”
Tears well up immediately as I blink in surprise.
Ryan had seemed so against writing our own vows. But now, clenching my hands tightly in his, he stares into my eyes as we make a commitment to one another.
“You’re the most amazing person I have ever met. You have the remarkable ability to light up any room with just your smile and infectious laugh.”
I laugh and shake my head. He’s so sweet.
“Every time I look at you, I see someone that I care about more than anything in the world. I can’t bear to be apart from you.”
Dammit! Tears are starting to stream down my face. Thankfully, the mask will hide the worst of my mascara running.
“I promise to hold you tight when you need comforting, to stand strong with you when we face adversity, and to continue to laugh with you, day and night. I promise to give you all the love I have to offer for the rest of our lives.”
Slowly, he pulls my hand up and kisses the back of it.
“Now, I’m officially the luckiest man alive.”
His smile is radiant. I’m stunned.
His heartfelt words touch my soul. They relieve tension I didn’t even realize I had.
I knew we were meant to be together! Having to defend our relationship against the doubts of my friends—against Allison—had made me feel like I should be second-guessing this marriage.
Maybe now, she’ll see that this is the man of my dreams.
I’ve spent days writing and rewriting what I wanted to say at this point.
But it all seems so trite now. His committed declarations deserve the same honesty.
Instead of pulling out the carefully folded piece of paper in my bra, I take a deep breath and prepare to bear out my heart.
“Today, I take you to be my husband, but you’re so much more. I promise, as your wife, I’ll always defend you to others, even when you’re wrong.”
Allison’s extremely loud laugh next to me makes me pause to laugh, too.
She obviously sees the irony.
“I vow to always be open and honest with you and to clarify my expectations of you. I understand that love and marriage won’t always be easy. I promise to face these challenges with you because we’re stronger together than we are apart. While overcoming these challenges, I promise not to keep score even when I’m winning.”
My cheeky comment earns me a wink and another smile.
How could I have thought that this wasn’t going to work?
“I’ll always encourage you to seek your grandest aspirations. I’ll inspire and laugh with you when things don’t go according to plan.”
Okay. If I’m honest with myself, that is what I want, too.
And I admit that I’m...also thinking a bit of Dante. He had always seemed to like me just the way I am. Some of these feelings do seem to apply to him.
Who even knows where he is?
It doesn’t matter.
“I commit myself to this love and whatever adventure it gives us. I’ll always be satisfied because I could never ask for more than your companionship. In the warmth of your heart and the comfort of your arms, I promise to be happy and to never take our friendship for granted. I cannot wait to start the best chapter of my life today. I love you always.”
My voice breaks at my final declaration. Who can blame me?
I love him so damn much!
Everything I’ve dreamed of since I was a little girl is coming true right now at this moment. I have a wonderful loving man who has just declared his love to me.
Vaguely, I hear the priest say, “You may kiss the bride.”
Ryan releases my hands to pull me forward by my waist. Tipping my chin up, he leans in slowly, and our lips meet softly.
His tongue smoothly glides across my lips as I open to him.
My body tingles, and I feel my nipples harden, as our tongues savor one another. I lose all perception of time as we kiss and cling to one another.
He pulls away slightly, and our breath mingles. It’s only his hand on my neck and arm around my waist that keeps me upright. I’m practically swooning!
Can we go back to the room now?
“Congratulations!” Allison pulls me away from Ryan to hug me tightly.
“You’re my best friend, and I just want you to be happy,” she whispers softly in my ear before releasing me again. With an exaggerated wink, she turns to Ryan and says, “Take care of my best friend! Congratulations!”
Then, she wraps one of her arms around Ryan, hugging us both. “Let’s go party!”
“Start with these,” Ryan says, turning slightly to the table beside us where there’s a tray with half a dozen shots.
The priest moves to the end of the table shuffling some paperwork. He looks at Ryan expectantly.
Ryan gingerly hands me a shot as Allison grabs her own.
“To my beautiful wife!” He clinks our glasses. “And to my wife’s beautiful friend.”
Allison does a better job than I do not spilling anything. Strong alcohol burns my throat, but I smile. Woo!
“One more,” he states, handing the priest a glass.
“My turn!” I grab the shots to pass them out. “To my two best friends, thanks for being here and making all my dreams come true.”
We lift our glasses together, then throw our heads back as the liquor hits our throats. The burn is more manageable this time.
“It’s my turn now.” Allison spins, looking for the bar.
“Don’t go far. We have to finalize the paperwork here,” Ryan says. He pulls me in by my shoulders and wraps me in a hug as he kisses the top of my head. “Just a couple of minutes, okay?”
“Perfect. Allison and I will be right there.”
Fifteen feet away, there’s an opening at the bar that Allison and I take. I can’t help ogling my new husband as Allison orders our drinks.
He’s just so damn fine. Even his dress pants fit his ass perfectly.
I can’t wait to be alone with him. Naked. Tonight!
Our drinks and shots still haven’t arrived when he turns around to wave me over.
He smirks. Yeah, I’m busted.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, squeezing Allison’s arm.
I approach Ryan, who brandishes a pen, tapping it gently against my
nose before following it with a kiss.
“Just sign here.”
The priest smiles as I scribble my name quickly. Ryan’s arms around my waist are doing an admirable job of holding me up, but they are also very distracting!
Flushing, I pass the pen to the priest. “Thank you so much.”
Smiling, I link my fingers with Ryan’s and gently press them into a more appropriate position around my waist.
“Ta-da!” Allison arrives, holding a tray with our favorite drinks and another shot glass.
Awesome!
I grab a shot as Allison holds hers high in the air.
“To my best friend and her new husband. Take care of her so I don’t have to kill you.”
We all laugh, but I don’t think she was kidding. At least not totally.
The sharp taste of the shot coincides perfectly with the Bellini Allison brought us. Guzzling a bit definitely helps chase the taste of the liquor.
Ryan had really timed everything perfectly. Moving to the doors, drinks in hand, we walk out to join the celebration. The festivities are just beginning, and we’re pulled out and along with the crowd.
Allison comes and goes as she sees her friends, and she spins off into a dance. Ryan and I sway with the music, happy to be together. I feel so relaxed now.
Everything had been so tense and up in the air until today. My whole body seems to be giving out a huge sigh of relief.
“Nicole? Nicole?”
My eyes flutter open to see the familiar black cat mask. “So pretty…”
Sighing, my eyes close briefly again before I jolt awake as Ryan picks me up.
“Is she okay?” Allison’s voice sounds tense, and I try to make my eyes focus.
I give up. It’s easier just to listen. I snuggle closer to my new husband.
He smells delicious. Good enough to eat.
Mmm, yes. Soon…maybe.
“Just a little too much to drink,” he says, trying to keep his voice low so as not to wake me even though it’s near impossible to be heard over the din of the crowd.
But I smile nonetheless. He’s so thoughtful.
“Are you coming back with us? I’m tucking her into bed.”
