dolour

æfterfylgan

[verb; to follow, to come after]

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the minister's voice was clear despite the slight wind up on the roof terrace and the small band playing soft tunes during the ceremony, "you may kiss the bride."

Bruce's kind eyes met Adelaide's, soothing and assuring her. His hands held hers firmly, reassuringly, with the promise of a better future, for her. And for Adam.

Thank you, she mouthed before their lips met for the briefest of moments, more a symbolic peck but just as important as if it had been the deepest proclamation of love.

There had been less than a dozen people there that day but they had spared no expense on the ceremony or the reception with luxurious flowers towering up around them, expensive clothing and everything one could ever wish to eat in a buffet.

To an outsider it probably would have looked real, only the people present knew it wasn't but it wasn't any less one of the most beautiful days of Adelaide's life for that. It was a mutual agreement, one she never could have dreamed of but it turned out to be just what she needed.

Neither of them wanted a romantic match; she had left the love of her life almost two years prior and he had lost his to illness even earlier than that. This way they got companionship, he got an heir, she got safety for her son and her son didn't have to stay with babysitters during the nights she worked.

They had danced the first dance together like a real couple and taken pictures to frame in their home so future guests could see them. It sounds more calculated than it was, truth be told it came pretty naturally for them. Adelaide had her closest friends present along with the two women who basically raised her and Bruce had his business partners slash friends.

Adelaide had worn a silver colored floor-length dress with a high neck and long sleeves that flowed out by the hips. It had delicate patterns that Adam had traced with his fingers during the dinner until he fell asleep in his mother's arms.

When the morning came her friends left to go home - to Adelaide's former life - to pretend they had only been away for a spa weekend in Washington. Adelaide had dropped Adam off at kindergarten and gone to work.

There wasn't a reason for them to go on a pretend-honeymoon, not that they mind spending time together but simply because they had been busy at work. Most of her colleagues thought she was crazy since apparently it's important to have that time together, to enjoy the wedding bliss. Those who had been at the wedding knew the truth and so they put up a facade and said it was because she was such a dedicated worker that she prioritized being home and taking care of her patients instead of going on a vacation.

Life was good and with a new  identity - again - and protection she didn't feel the need to constantly look over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't found and followed. But the only way to go when you're at the top is down and life has a habit of constantly come crashing down on Adelaide just as she has recovered from the last.

This is such a time.

"Adelaide," Bruce's low voice interrupts her thoughts. She realizes they're at their destination, the car is turned off and parked in front of a building that Adelaide knows too well, from another life. "We're here. Do you want me to come with you?"

Adelaide shakes her head and gives him a sad smile that soon fades, "We shouldn't have come," she whispers as she looks out of the car window.

"I can only imagine what it must feel like for you... but it's important that we did. You owe it to Aunt Polly to be here and to you and Adam so you can say your goodbyes," he takes her hand and squeezes it reassuringly.