Wedding Bells
Pardon My Harsh Reaction...
Nick stared down at the simple faded pink card. The words that tore through his heart were written in the most beautiful calligraphy.
You are cordially invited to the wedding of
Corrine Nala Gale
&
Joshua Tyson McIntyre
He could not read it anymore. He did not want to know more than that. It was pink, her favourite colour. So cliché for a girl to like the colour pink; but it was truly her favourite. She always had the colour on her in some form.
Her lips.
That was his favourite, when she wore it on her lips; they looked like a sweet candy.
“It came in the mail a couple of weeks ago,” his mother said behind him. When he did not respond, she sighed and picked up his duffel bag. “It’s good to have you home, Nicky.”
The pet name always made him cringe. He had been happy to finally be home, up until the point his mother brought up Corrine’s wedding.
His Corrine.
His Corrine was getting married to a guy with the name Tyson. All he could think of was how he was probably not a boxer. He also probably did not know she loved to stand with her mouth open and tongue out when it rained. Or how she held her fingers up like a frame over the sunset, and dreamed about how she would one day paint the perfect one. Nick doubted Tyson-not-the-boxer knew any of that; but he did. He carefully placed the invitation card down on one of the side tables. He noticed it tremble slightly before he let it go. He had not noticed he was shaking. He clenched his fingers into a fist and walked out of the living room. Two years ago she had told him that she would make her cards pink, along with her bridesmaids’ dresses. She had even known then the exact shade. She knew exactly how she wanted her wedding look.
“Nothing too fancy, but an understated class,” she had whispered against his neck, “and I don’t want too many people. Just the ones we love. Not the ones we tolerate.”
Nick flopped down on his bed and lay with his boots still on, facing the ceiling, linking his fingers under his head. Under a huge willow tree, just off her family’s property, was where they kissed for the first time. It was on a whim, Nick was not sure whether she wanted him to, but he was taken in the moment. Her brown eyes were glowing under the last rays of the sun, and he could see every fleck and shade. He had looked from her eyes to her lips then, and they looked like an open invitation. So he leaned in and kissed her. It was unlike any other. Even now, the memory alone made his blood rush. His Corrine was getting married, to a guy who was not him.
How many times had he thought to pick up the phone and call her, but he felt he had lost that right when he left her the second time? He got all her emails, but when he wanted to reply his fingers would just hover over the keyboard for thirty minutes. Until finally he decided, what was the point? She would stop eventually. It had taken some time, but she did. That hurt more than words could say. Besides, girls like Corrine Gale did not marry guys like Nick Jonas.
There was a gentle knock on the door, his mother peaked her head through the door before he could respond. By then Nick had jumped up straight, nerves on high alert, heart racing a mile a minute.
“Why don’t you freshen up, and I’ll fix you some supper,’ she offered with a warm smile.
Nick breathed in and out slowly, telling his brain that he was fine he was safe. “Yes, thanks mom.”
It took some time but eventually his defences came down and he was able to think again. His thoughts immediately went to Corrine.
He had naively expected to see her today at the airport when he arrived. He searched for her faded jeans dotted with paint, wearing one of his old t-shirts which she had cut into a crop top. Nick held his breath and closed his eyes. Her skin was softer than flour; it always smelt of coco-butter and that floral perfume she wore all the time. He loved lying with his head resting on her stomach, cheek against her skin, while she would read. Silently, though she sometimes mouthed the words as she went, loud enough for Nick to hear where she was in the book. Her hair would tickle his arm and shoulder; it cascaded over her like a waterfall.
He would go see her tonight, Nick resolved. She would want to see him. She would want to see that he survived another tour and came back home just like he had promised her twelve months ago. With new motivation he got up and changed out of his uniform, taking a long shower and got ready. He would eat dinner with his mom, and then he would go see Corrine.
You are cordially invited to the wedding of
Corrine Nala Gale
&
Joshua Tyson McIntyre
He could not read it anymore. He did not want to know more than that. It was pink, her favourite colour. So cliché for a girl to like the colour pink; but it was truly her favourite. She always had the colour on her in some form.
Her lips.
That was his favourite, when she wore it on her lips; they looked like a sweet candy.
“It came in the mail a couple of weeks ago,” his mother said behind him. When he did not respond, she sighed and picked up his duffel bag. “It’s good to have you home, Nicky.”
The pet name always made him cringe. He had been happy to finally be home, up until the point his mother brought up Corrine’s wedding.
His Corrine.
His Corrine was getting married to a guy with the name Tyson. All he could think of was how he was probably not a boxer. He also probably did not know she loved to stand with her mouth open and tongue out when it rained. Or how she held her fingers up like a frame over the sunset, and dreamed about how she would one day paint the perfect one. Nick doubted Tyson-not-the-boxer knew any of that; but he did. He carefully placed the invitation card down on one of the side tables. He noticed it tremble slightly before he let it go. He had not noticed he was shaking. He clenched his fingers into a fist and walked out of the living room. Two years ago she had told him that she would make her cards pink, along with her bridesmaids’ dresses. She had even known then the exact shade. She knew exactly how she wanted her wedding look.
“Nothing too fancy, but an understated class,” she had whispered against his neck, “and I don’t want too many people. Just the ones we love. Not the ones we tolerate.”
Nick flopped down on his bed and lay with his boots still on, facing the ceiling, linking his fingers under his head. Under a huge willow tree, just off her family’s property, was where they kissed for the first time. It was on a whim, Nick was not sure whether she wanted him to, but he was taken in the moment. Her brown eyes were glowing under the last rays of the sun, and he could see every fleck and shade. He had looked from her eyes to her lips then, and they looked like an open invitation. So he leaned in and kissed her. It was unlike any other. Even now, the memory alone made his blood rush. His Corrine was getting married, to a guy who was not him.
How many times had he thought to pick up the phone and call her, but he felt he had lost that right when he left her the second time? He got all her emails, but when he wanted to reply his fingers would just hover over the keyboard for thirty minutes. Until finally he decided, what was the point? She would stop eventually. It had taken some time, but she did. That hurt more than words could say. Besides, girls like Corrine Gale did not marry guys like Nick Jonas.
There was a gentle knock on the door, his mother peaked her head through the door before he could respond. By then Nick had jumped up straight, nerves on high alert, heart racing a mile a minute.
“Why don’t you freshen up, and I’ll fix you some supper,’ she offered with a warm smile.
Nick breathed in and out slowly, telling his brain that he was fine he was safe. “Yes, thanks mom.”
It took some time but eventually his defences came down and he was able to think again. His thoughts immediately went to Corrine.
He had naively expected to see her today at the airport when he arrived. He searched for her faded jeans dotted with paint, wearing one of his old t-shirts which she had cut into a crop top. Nick held his breath and closed his eyes. Her skin was softer than flour; it always smelt of coco-butter and that floral perfume she wore all the time. He loved lying with his head resting on her stomach, cheek against her skin, while she would read. Silently, though she sometimes mouthed the words as she went, loud enough for Nick to hear where she was in the book. Her hair would tickle his arm and shoulder; it cascaded over her like a waterfall.
He would go see her tonight, Nick resolved. She would want to see him. She would want to see that he survived another tour and came back home just like he had promised her twelve months ago. With new motivation he got up and changed out of his uniform, taking a long shower and got ready. He would eat dinner with his mom, and then he would go see Corrine.