Ain't She Sweet

4

I saw Aaron's face as he turned to me.

We were not alone.

Either side of me stood row after row of people; each and every one had their head turned towards me and their critical eyes piercing me.

For a fleeting moment I suspected there may be something on my face. I brushed my palm to my cheek, but there was something between the two, preventing my fingertips from coming into contact with my skin.
A thin, and itching material.
A veil.

I glanced towards Aaron again.
He was dressed from head to toe in a suit and tie, a wide and joyful smile stretching to the corners of his bright eyes.

I only now realised he was stood at the end of an isle; his best man at his side.

I glanced down at my own attire.
It was just as I feared.
The dress.

I felt my breathing quicken rapidly, as the panic set in through my every step closer.

I wanted to stop.
I wanted to turn back around.
But my feet wouldn't let me.
They just kept taking their steps closer and closer as my breathing became heavier.

Aaron's hand outstretched for me to take as I was now only so close.
I glanced to my side in search for Annie, but she was lost in a sea of faces, none of which I recognised other than Aaron's, who stood by my side, only terrifying me even more so.

He gave my hand a quick squeeze, drawing me closer.

I glanced up to his face again.
The face of my husband to be.
The husband I didn't want to be.
Yet there was nothing I could do to prevent it.

I gasped and my eyes snapped open as I lurched forward, like coming up for air after being held underwater for too long. I clasped a palm to my forehead to feel a cold sweat, my rapid breaths beginning to slow again as I realised I was not at a wedding, but in a bed. And after a quick feel around my fingers for a wedding ring, I felt nothing but the engagement ring Aaron had given me months ago.

It was all a dream.

I gave a sigh of relief and clasped my hand to my racing heart as I collapsed my body back into the mattress of the bed.

I tried to relax myself again, perhaps slow my fiercely pounding heart. It worked for a while, until the melancholy of the day which lay ahead dawned upon me.
I may not be married now.
But I soon would be.

I turned over in misery, indulging my face into my pillow to soak up the river of tears I felt beginning to escape my eyes. I began to remember my brief encounter with George Harrison and the Beatles, wishing upon praying that of all dreams, that could have been the one to come true today. The thought of actually meeting the Beatles made my every muscle ache, yearning for the reality. I gave a sorrowful wail and a sob into my pillow, hopeful the muffling sounds of my cries would prevent Annie from overhearing in the room next to me.

It was then I heard the faint noises of the flicking of a light switch and the creaking of a door, before footsteps inclined closer from the landing outside of my room, and I immediately fell silent.

I saw a crack of light enter my room from the corner of my eye as she opened my door, and a shadowed figure emerge.

"I'm fine Annie, go back to bed." I groaned.

"Annie?" I heard a lower, heavy Scouse accent spit.

My eyes widened and I felt my throat tighten as the voice reached my ears.
When I slowly turned my head from the pillow and rose, I was not faced with Annie, but a lanky and charming boy perched on the edge of my bed; a puzzled expression upon his countenance.