Til Death... [Chan]

3

The drive to the venue was quiet. There was nothing left to say. Nothing I could do to make them change their minds. I stared out the window at the green grass and blue sky. It was so saturated and bright right now. By tomorrow, everything would be duller. My life would become an endless monotony of gray.

So...goodbye beautiful and endless blue sky. Goodbye, lush green grass that held on through the frosty winter mornings, just for me to have this last glimpse of life. Goodbye, college degree that was useless now since I would be forced to become a full-time wife. Goodbye, friends that I may not be able to keep in touch with depending on how restrictive of my life he is. Goodbye, freedom to make my own choices. And, at last, goodbye Ophelia...your life is no longer your own.

We arrived at the church that our families had chosen together—their first decision as a solitary unit. I knew that there would be no guests inside. Only he and I and our two families to bear as witness would be in attendance.

The driver opened my door and my father offered his hand to help me step down. "You look beautiful, Ophelia," he told me.

It was the first time he'd ever given me a compliment in my life.

"Do I? Or is it just beautiful that you'll have billions of more dollars in a few minutes?" I spat.

He ignored my comment and handed me a bouquet of white and champagne-colored roses. My mother held the back of my dress to stop it from dragging on the pavement. I took my father's arm, and he walked me forward. We entered the initial lobby of the church, and my mother walked ahead to ensure the Bangs were already there.

My heart was in my stomach and I found myself unable to breathe. I squeezed my father's arm and turned to him pleading one last time to be released from this obligation. "I can't do it," I told him. "I can't. Please let me go. Please."

My father placed a supportive hand on top of mine and looked at me sternly, "You can do it. And you will."

He turned to face ahead, offering no other words of encouragement. Nothing to help remediate this sinking feeling in my chest.

My mother returned with a smile and came to stand on the other side of me. "They're here. It's time."

I found my legs incapable of moving, and my heels dug into the blood-colored carpet. My parents took their first steps forward, but I stayed behind. I released the hold on my father's arm and tried to make a run for it, but they both pulled me back harshly squeezing the flesh in my arms.

"Stop being a selfish child, Ophelia. This is your duty," my father snarled, done with pretending to have an ounce of sympathy.

"Their son is in there waiting for you. He's not making this difficult, and neither should you," my mother barked.

My heart pounded in my chest. Could 25-year-olds have heart attacks?

They pulled me forward towards the door, and my mother moved to open it for my grand entrance. I felt like I could pass out at any given moment. My palms were clammy and the dress suddenly felt too tight on my chest. I couldn't get a full breath in no matter how hard I tried.

The heavy wooden door opened with a loud creak, announcing my arrival. His parents were standing on either side of the aisle. His father looked me over from top to bottom and gave an approving nod. His mother looked back at her son. Maybe she expected him to bolt, too. I wished he would.

My first steps into the chapel echoed. No sounds could be heard but my heels on the ancient wooden floor and my anxious breaths as I moved toward the man I'd yet to look at. If I avoided his gaze, I could pretend he didn't exist. I could allow myself just a few more precious moments as Ophelia before I became Ophelia the wife.