End of the Innocence

Chapter 61

Brad exhaled, his hands clasped before him, the collar on his tux scratchy. Finally. Fourteen months after she had walked into his office. Thirteen months after she had broken in and stolen his heart. The year-long engagement had dragged on, punctuated by empty nights where she stayed at her house, nights he realized how much he wanted and needed her to be his wife. He felt lost without her—incomplete—like he was missing out on something incredible. She had become, in those twelve months, his best friend as well as soul mate, the power of their relationship terrifying in its perfection. And now, finally, he would have security. Would have the strength of their marriage. A message to his family and to the world that they were, and always would be, together. Musical chords began, the orchestra gradually joining in, bit by bit, until the entire ensemble was participating, their notes rising in a strong crescendo. His heart swelled along with the music, until he thought it would burst, and he smiled despite himself, a break in the dam that they had reached this day safely.

The doors opened and the wedding procession began, Julia’s mother entering to the tones of Bach.

Had Brad paid any attention during the procession, he would have noticed the tight faces of the women, their hands clenched around their bouquets, worried glances flitting from one bridesmaid to the next. But he didn’t pay attention to them. He stared, fixated on the large arched entrance, and waited. Waited for Lohengrin’s March to begin and for the love of his life to appear.

Tones played, and he worked through the processional schedule in his mind, trying to sort through how many more individuals would walk through that arch before Julia. It had to be soon, her mother and bridesmaids having already made the slow walk. His palms sweated as he stared at the space, waited for her to appear. A small blonde appeared, Catalina, his niece, throwing petals into the air with happy abandon, a small tuxedoed boy at her side. The presence of Catalina reminded him that Julia was next, rose petals an indication of her pending arrival.

The music changed, familiar notes beginning, the announcement of the bride. The audience turned as one, a hushed silence falling over the room. He attempted to breathe slowly, attempted a calm veneer, but couldn’t stop his mouth, grinning widely. This was one of those moments that defined—one of the few moments in his life where he was certain he was in the right place, at the right time.

The music continued, the audience waited. Waited. Strands floating through the air, the rise and fall of notes sweet and perfect in their promise. There was uneasy movement through the audience, heads turning, voices whispering. Then the notes ended, silence fell, the doorway remained empty, and Brad’s world ended.

Silence. It was often the worst and loudest sound in the world.

♦♦♦

The time at which my body chose to wake was an unfortunate one. Or very fortunate, however you chose to view it. It’s said that when your brain reawakens, its initial moments are perfectly clear, superhuman in their speed of thought, the brain pure before it is again bogged down by thoughts, worries, and unnecessary details. I awoke to the sound of a zipper, my legs spread, my lower body naked in a cold room. I opened my eyes, looking at a stained tile ceiling and bright fluorescent lights. I felt a hand, the palm calloused and rough, grip my thigh, felt something brush against my mound and I tensed in response, my mind shuddering through recent events as understanding of my situation suddenly came into focus.

I did not move, I did not scream. I waited, my eyes closing, and tried to ignore the events happening below my waist. My mind shuffled the cards of Ben’s training, picking up and discarding different defensive strategies. I listened, trying to figure out if anyone else was in the room. But all I could hear was one, his hard breaths, the slick sounds of his hand as he prepared himself for entrance. He seemed to be in a hurry and suddenly reached up, leaning forward as he pulled my shirt up, over my breasts, his free hand roughly gripping a breast in one hand. The change in position, the hand suddenly within my grasp, changed everything, my mind focusing on the golden opportunity that was suddenly presented.