Ficlets

“I do.” I say, watching the tears spill from the corners of her eyes. The chocolate-y brown mists over, and takes on a new quality. I run a hand through my hair, freshly trimmed for the occasion.

“You may kiss the bride.” The father pronounces, and I realize I missed him telling me that we were man and wife. Man and wife, I can’t believe it! She’s on me in a second, covering me in wet, salty kisses, and her hair is brushing against my cheek. I always liked the way it felt, like a gentle hand, but now… it annoys me for some reason.

“Ter, cut it out. Stop that!” I laugh a little, but I frown, too. I should be happy, so why do I feel like making her cry harder? I pull away and turn to the pews, forcing a smile, and taking her hand, holding it in the air. The reception’ll be next, and with the way she’s hangin’ off my arm now, I don’t know if I can take it.

She doesn’t even notice when I pull the flask of JD from inside the tux jacket, but she’s so caught up in the moment… I tip it back and drain it.