Cruel & Beautiful

by A. M. Hargrove

  It’s funny about moments like this. You think you’d be so aware of every single thing, but the truth is all I can think about is the man standing next to me. The priest talks about the importance of marriage and the closeness of friends and families, but I pray about Drew’s health. I ask God, since we’re in His house, to watch over Drew. I’m not a particularly religious person, though I do believe. But if ever there was goodness born on this Earth, he is standing next to me. And I suppose that’s what worries me the most about his cancer. I know that old saying “only the good die young” is just a saying, but maybe there is some truth in that. Maybe God really does need those good souls back in heaven with Him. But don’t we need them on Earth, too?

  My morbid thoughts, thankfully, are interrupted, because it’s time for us to take our wedding vows. We deliberated over writing our own, but we eventually settled on letting the priest use the traditional ones. But Drew surprises me. After I’m done with mine, and he says his, the priest looks at him and nods.

  Drew turns to me and says, “Cate, Catelyn, I knew the day I saw you I was finished. You caught me, only you weren’t aware.” He looks down and bites his lip for a beat. Then his head lifts, and his irises lock with mine. My heart feels like the wings of a hummingbird. One hand releases mine and cups my cheek. “Oh, Cate, I hope to give you the world, and I’m going to do my honest to god best. You could’ve run, but you didn’t, which tells me everything. Now I need to tell you everything.” The hand that was on my face grabs my free hand and places it on his chest. “This is yours for as long as there are beats within it. Everything I have is yours. My love, my heart, my soul, and my life, for however short or long it may be.”

  I can’t breathe. My face is wet, and the reason I know is he wipes my tears. Then he leans in and whispers, “Breathe, Cate.”

  Breathe? I can’t even swallow. Blink. I can blink. So I keep doing it, and he keeps wiping my eyes. Finally, the priest tells him to place the ring on my finger and he says some other things, but his words have collapsed me. I need some time alone with him. Like right now. Why did he do this to me? Here?

  The priest announces that we’re Dr. and Mrs. Andrew Standford McKnight and we walk down the aisle. As soon as we get to the back of the church, he pulls me into one of the side rooms. We were going there anyway to hide from the crowd, so we could take more pictures afterward. There is a bathroom in there and I drag him behind me, close and lock the door, and start sobbing.

  “Jesus, Cate, I didn’t think.”

  I throw myself at him and just cry. I need this moment to purge this out of me. “Just hold me,” I say. My tears run dry and I pull away. “A little warning would’ve been good.”

  “I guess so.” He looks chastened. “I’m sorry. I wanted you to know how deeply I feel so I thought … enough said. I love you. You know how I feel. I won’t keep putting my damn foot in my mouth.”

  “Drew, everything I have is yours, too. You know that. But your words were so unexpected.”

  “I know. And I was wrong about not caring about your dress. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid these dumb old eyes on.” He kisses me. “I couldn’t believe how stunning you were, standing at the end of the aisle. You are a vision.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yes! Now let’s get you fixed up again so you don’t look like you’ve been crying. I’m sorry I made you cry, babe.” He sounds so disheartened.

  “You can make it up to me.”

  “I plan on it.”

  My make up bag is in here so I go to work touching up my eyes. It’s not that bad because I’m wearing waterproof everything.

  “How do I look?”

  “Like a princess.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “You do. Better than any princess I’ve ever seen. You’re gorgeous, Cate. And best of all, you’re my wife.” He kisses me again.

  Someone knocks on the door. “Hey, you okay in there?” It’s Jenna.

  “Yeah.” And I open the door.

  “Oh, god, don’t tell me y’all were … I told you he’d go crazy over that dress and …”

  I cut her off when I see Shannon standing there. “That’s enough, Ms. Nosy.”

  Drew grins and winks at me and leads me out of the bathroom. Then the photographer grabs us and it’s all about the pictures for a while. We take the church shots and then all the outdoor shots, and I’m glad because it takes my mind off of everything else.

  The reception is a hit. Two things Drew and I insisted on during the planning stages were a big band, and a huge bar with anything and everything anyone wanted to drink. The rest—we really didn’t give a damn about. We figured we wanted a party where everyone danced and had a great time, and the way to do that was with an awesome band and great drinks. We have succeeded. People keep telling us this is the best wedding reception they’ve ever attended. My feet will be killing me tomorrow, but I couldn’t care less. Drew and I fly out on Monday to wherever his secret honeymoon is. I won’t be walking anywhere far, I’m sure.

  We don’t leave the party until the very end and I hate to say goodbye to all our friends. But I’m eager to get to our hotel. We’re staying in a suite in one of the hotels right here in downtown Charleston. A horse and carriage await to take us to our room. When we walk in, a bottle of champagne sits in a bucket of ice and Drew and I look at each other and make faces. The last thing we either want or need is more alcohol.

  “You know what I’d love right now?” he asks.

  “A wedding night blow job?”

  “Well, that too, but I’m starving. I didn’t eat but a bite or two. I’d love a pizza.”

  “Oh, me too. I’m famished myself.”

  He grins, grabs the phone, and starts ordering all this food from room service.

  “Why didn’t you order a pizza delivery?”

  “I wanted variety. And I’ll have my blow job for dessert. They’re bringing a can of whipped cream because I ordered strawberries.”

  “They are not.”

  He looks like that little boy again. “Yes, they are.”

  Sure enough, when the room service man arrives, pushing a cart laden with our food, there is a can of whipped cream on it. But I don’t see any strawberries. I ask Drew about it. He’s a bit tipsy.

  “Oh, that’s right. I ordered brownie cake instead.”

  “That’s even better!”

  We dive into the array of food, from pizza to burgers, fries, and chicken wings, until we’re stuffed.

  “Don’t forget the dessert,” Drew reminds me.

  “Oh, you can have the brownie thingy. I have something else in mind.”

  I crawl between his legs, tug his boxers down with a little help from him, take that can of whipped cream, and make an artful creation out of his cock. He’d started eating the brownie, but after a bite, got very distracted by what I was doing.

  “You like?” I ask.

  “Um, I love.” He has his husky, sexy voice going now.

  I eye his whipped cream covered cock, trying to decide if I should start at the top or the bottom, when he says, “No hands.”

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t use your hands. Mouth only.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  “Not really. I just want to watch you suck me off with your hands behind your back.”

  “Can I touch Louise?”

  “Oh, no. Only I get to touch Louise.”

  “Hmm. Well, then. I’d better hurry it up, because Louise is getting impatient.”

  I dip my head down and lick the tip of his cock, swirling my tongue about the tip, sucking off the cream. “Yummy, I love this.”

  “Cate, stop teasing.” I notice his hands clenching the table.

  “No teasing. Just sucking.”

  And I go back to work. This really is tasty. Lick, swirl, suck until all the cream is gone and now I take him deep. He groans. Loudly. And I want this to go fast because I need some relief, too. But he has other ideas.
>
  “Enough.” He pulls me to my feet and lays me down on the coffee table, pulling off my thong. It’s a sexy, white satin number. Once I’m bared to him, he takes that can of whipped cream and coats my pussy with it.

  “My turn.” Then his tongue starts lapping up the cream as he murmurs his pleasure. I’m thinking we’ll have to buy this stuff by the case. “Whipped cream is good, but it doesn’t taste nearly as good as you, Cate.” My legs are spread and my feet rest on his shoulders. When he spears me with two fingers, I cry out, “Ahh.”

  “You want this?”

  “No, I want you.”

  “That can be arranged, but I want an orgasm from you first.” And he gets it. Or rather he gets two.

  Then he pulls my hand and I’m back on my feet. He picks me up, carries me to the bed, and proceeds to make love to me. It’s slow, drawn out, and perforates my heart in a way I’m sure he doesn’t intend it to. But his words, “For however short or long it may be,” keep coming back to me. This moment has to last forever in my heart. I don’t want to feel this way—to have these doubts. I want my faith to be firm in his survival of what he faces. So I will choose to live in the moment from this point on, cherishing him day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute.

  The honeymoon destination is the island of St. Martin. When we land at the airport, our driver greets us.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “You’ll see in just a little bit.”

  When we pull up to a private villa, Drew says, “Surprise.” Then he leans over and kisses my cheek. “This is our home for the next ten days.”

  “This is amazing.”

  “Let’s check it out.”

  Our driver unloads our bags, while a woman greets us and shows us around. The villa sits right on its own private beach, but has a pool and every amenity one could want.

  The woman, whose name is Monique, tells us, “Every morning, breakfast will be delivered at seven. We will leave it outside so we won’t disturb you if you are still sleeping.” She beams and her face lights up, letting us know she has an inkling we’ll be hanging out in bed a lot. “Then I will return at twelve thirty to deliver your lunch. You will leave me your order, yes, in the morning on the porch when I deliver your breakfast?”

  We nod. Apparently there is a huge menu we get to choose from.

  Monique isn’t finished. “Then, at six in the evening, our chef, Pierre, will arrive to cook you dinner, if you are dining in. Again, you must give me your dinner selection at lunch, so chef can be prepared, yes?”

  We nod again.

  “You will find everything you need in the villa and if you don’t, you just call Monique, yes?”

  We nod, again. Then she leaves and we grin at each other.

  “Drew, this is amazing!”

  “I hope you love it.”

  “I do! How did you find this place?”

  “Oh, this little thing called the internet. And my parents.”

  When our first breakfast is delivered the next morning, it consists of homemade breads and croissants, because we’re staying on the French side of the island, and everything is mouthwatering. It’s a good thing I don’t have to worry about fitting into my wedding gown anymore because after all this tasty food, I’m sure it would be very snug.

  Our views from the beach are stunning—we have a spectacular sunset to witness every night right off our terrace, so we usually sit out here with a glass of wine and take in the gorgeous scenery.

  One night, as we sit together holding hands, something pops into my head. “Hey, I thought you said you didn’t want anyone seeing me naked. Remember?”

  “Yeah. I said that to throw you off, so you wouldn’t be able to figure out where we were going.”

  “Really, Drew? I never would’ve guessed this place in a gazillion years. You outdid yourself.”

  “Nah, I outdid myself when I found you.”

  “Promise me something.” There’s urgency in my voice and he hears it because he sits up straighter and leans forward in his chair.

  Taking my hand, he says, “Anything, babe. What is it?”

  “Promise me you will fight this thing with everything you have. Because honestly, I don’t want to think about this world without you in it.” I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol, or what, but big fat tears power their way out and I can do nothing to stop them. And this is the part I hate the worst. I’m the one who should be strong. I’m the one who should be comforting him—pushing him on. But no, he pulls me into his lap and he’s my strength. His hands rub a path up and down my back while he whispers things to me and I have no idea what they are.

  When the tears ebb enough for me to speak, I ask, “Is there anything you’re holding back? Anything you’re keeping from me?”

  “No, Cate. I’m telling you everything and will always do that.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry I fell apart.”

  “Why are you sorry? You’re scared. I’m scared. I don’t know how long I’m going to live.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true, Cate. But none of us do. Hell, we could die in a plane crash on the way home. Realistically, we won’t, but the fact is we all face death. It’s the circle of life. I see it at work all the time so I think I’m a bit more practical about it than you.”

  “I can’t let myself think that way. You’re young and strong enough to beat it.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping for. But Cate, if I don’t …”

  “Stop it, Drew. I don’t want to hear that.”

  He nods and presses his lips together. I guess he knows I’ve had enough of this talk. We sit for the rest of the night, me on his lap, watching the night sky over the sea. I know this talk is prophetic, or at least it’s Drew’s way of trying to prepare me if the worst happens. Only I don’t let myself get prepared. But I’m not sure anyone really can.

  THE FORCED SMILE ON MY face is plastered there. I remember the times going out with friends who really didn’t want to be with me, but would rather be hanging out with their hot boyfriends. Now I have a hot boyfriend that I’d rather be home with. But it’s okay to hang out with friends, I tell myself. I can practically hear Jenna saying that I don’t have to spend every waking moment with Drew.

  “Cate, what’s wrong? You’ve gone pale.”

  I blink. “Sorry, nothing.”

  I recall I have asked Andy nothing about his health. In fact, I should schedule my annual physical. Survival rate of anything improves the sooner it’s found. Then I chide myself. Andy knows better than the rest of us to take care of himself. I won’t ask him. He’ll think I’m babying him.

  “Cate.”

  I glance up.

  “You’re not even in the room. I’m telling you about Daniel.”

  Her lips pokes out and I feel bad. “Sorry, Mandy. I just have a lot on my mind.”

  “Yeah, that hot doctor. You’ve never really told me about how you know him, where you met. What’s the story?”

  The story…

  “It’s complicated.”

  There is no way I can explain the convoluted nature of our relationship. Mandy, however, folds her arms over her chest and I sigh.

  “He’s from Charleston, like me,” I toss out, like that explains everything.

  She nods and I’m glad she’s accepted the simple truth of Andy and my origins.

  “Obviously things are going well. You’d rather be out with him than me.”

  I open my mouth to protest and a male voice speaks instead.

  “Excuse me.”

  We look up from the leatherette sofa we’ve commandeered to turn to face a man in a suit with dark hair and eyes staring hard at Mandy while leaning on the back of one of the chairs in front of us.

  “Can I buy you ladies a drink?”

  I’m about to say no, but Mandy beats me to it.

  “Yes, yes you can.”

  The wattage on her smile has turned to super nova levels. He’s quite handsome and the way the suit fit
s him like a glove spells expensive and not off the rack.

  “We’re actually having wine,” Mandy explains.

  The man raises a finger to a waitress walking by. “Can you bring the ladies a bottle of Domaine Vacheron 2012 Les Romains Sauvignon Blanc?”

  Mandy lifts her eyebrow because the wine he’s ordered isn’t cheap, not to mention he rattles if off in perfect French. Then again, the bar and lounge Mandy has chosen is frequented by nearby professionals and up and coming lawyers. He takes a seat in the chair that he’d been leaning on. It’s one of two high back chairs on the opposite side of a small table that separates us.

  Unfortunately for me, he glances to the bar and waves over a friend who makes his way over and takes the chair across from me.

  “I’m Jared and this is my friend Scott.”

  Mandy is too pleased and is quick to reciprocate with our names. “I’m Mandy and this is Cate.”

  We exchange nods and Mandy and Jared start to make conversation. It leaves me and Scott to entertain ourselves. Scott is kind of cute. He’s a ginger with a warm smile. Someone I might have dated if I wasn’t already involved. The key words being, I’m involved, and I don’t want to have to explain that to him. It always makes the situation weird because most guys think women use that as an excuse when we aren’t interested.

  “So what do you do?” Scott asks a little awkwardly.

  I’m flattered he’s a little nervous. It only makes him that much cuter, but he’s not Andy.

  “Cate, Mandy.”

  We both glance up to find Daniel. Mandy’s eyes widen before they narrow. I feel a little giddy because this is the distraction I need.

  “Sit and join us.” Then I glance at the two guys ready to make introductions. “This is Daniel and…”