A lie in church. ON RADISH

2- the lie

Listen to Symphony by Zara Larson

We got to the wedding early enough, so we snuck in and sat quietly near the back. The last seat behind us was occupied by two old ladies who looked like twins; they wore similar clothes and had the same chin-length hairstyle. I gave them a soft smile after taking a seat next to Grey.

Interlocking my fingers with Grey's and resting my head on his strong shoulder, I admired the exquisite decorations, giving the church a fresh and magical aura. It was a big church, decorated with white roses, large garlands, and gold embellishments that reminded me of fairy-tale weddings. Each pew was adorned with silky white and teal ribbons.

The groom was already at the altar. His black tux fitted his tall frame and solid arms. I could only imagine the taut muscles beneath his clothing. He looked uncomfortable as he stared straight ahead at the door, not sparing anyone a glance. Maybe he nervous.

The church was full. Dark teal and gold dominated the other colors in the building. I must admit, the color scheme was beautiful. Good thing I had a little bit of gold here and there on my dress.

"We are just in time," Grey whispered when the violinists started playing.

The sweet melody from the violins made everyone look alive as they sat up with wide smiles. A few people swayed to the smooth flow of the spectacular cadence, the rich sound uplifting their mood. I felt so excited; the anticipation gave me butterflies. The last time I had attended a wedding, I was six. I could only remember crying and asking the bride to give me her tiara.

Everyone looked back when the large church doors opened. I couldn't help but admire the wedding dress. It was a gorgeous, otherworldly spectacle. It was made with lace and silk, hugging her small build. The deep V-line on the dress almost reached her belly button, but I loved the extra details, like the sparkles that caught every eye. The big crown on her head looked like it was made with real gold, turquoise, sapphires, and diamonds. Her lace veil was so long that her maid of honor—my sister—had to stay five feet away to avoid stepping on it.

Sofia smiled as she took slow steps with an old man, who I assumed was her father. They marched down the aisle, decorated with white petals. She was Chinese American; she'd been here her whole life, but Ciara had told me she could speak Mandarin, and she was teaching her. Her dad was a multimillionaire and a member of the United States Senate.

My sister trailed behind, looking stunning in her gold haute couture dress and sleek, neat bun. I still felt awful about what had happened this morning.

"Ciara is killing it in that dress," Grey whispered with a whistle.

"Hey, she is my sister." I glared at him, jealousy getting the best of me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean anything—"

"Shh," one of the grandmas behind us cut him off.

"Sorry," I apologized to the lady, but she ignored me.