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SHORT STORY: The wedding crasher

Friday December 02 2016
wedding

My past has caught up with me, followed closely by the police. My perfect day turns into a complete nightmare as I am handcuffed and led away in my wedding dress. ILLUSTRATION | JOHN NYAGAH | NATION MEDIA GROUP

I wake up to a beautiful Saturday morning. To be honest, I haven’t slept much because after months of planning, it’s finally my wedding day.

I get out of bed and head to the kitchen, a big smile on my face. Susie, my best maid, is making breakfast, which I know I can’t eat because of all the butterflies in my stomach. Instead, I drink a glass of orange juice and then head to the bathroom for a shower.

By the time I am done, my little apartment is a beehive of activity. The hair stylist orders me into a chair, and in no time, my bridesmaids and I are all dolled up. It’s go time. We pile into the waiting vintage cars and set off for the church.

Walking down the aisle is a surreal moment for me. I see my friends and family and my wonderful groom up at the altar waiting for me. He seems a bit nervous, which makes me smile. Finally, we are making it official and starting our life together as husband and wife. I am surrounded by love and I have never been happier.

The ceremony begins and to be honest, I don’t hear much of anything the pastor says. I am lost in my happiness. I rally when it is time to recite the vows, knowing that in moments, we will be man and wife.

“Should anyone here present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

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Kevin shifts anxiously and I smile reassuringly at him. This isn’t a movie and nobody is going to come bursting in with an objection.

Suddenly, there is commotion at the back.

“I object!”

I break into a cold sweat. I know that voice. Kevin lets go of my hand and turns to see who dares interrupt our big day.

“She can’t marry him because she is already married to me,” the intruder says, advancing towards the altar.

This can’t be happening. He is supposed to be dead! I am sure I killed him!

There are gasps from the guests and Kevin turns to me, confusion written all over his face. I start hyperventilating and feel a strong urge to run away. My past has caught up with me, followed closely by the police. My perfect day turns into a complete nightmare as I am handcuffed and led away in my wedding dress.

Down at the police station, I am led into what I assume is an interrogation room. I can hear, Matthew, my husband, and Kevin my almost-husband, engaged in a heated argument. One of the arresting officers walks into the room and takes the seat directly opposite me.

“Your husband wants you charged with attempted murder. He says that you tried to kill him three years ago” the police officer says.

I am in a tailspin. I am having a hard time understanding this turn of events.

“Where has he been?” I mumble.

The officer says he told the police he was recovering in Madagascar. He was in a coma for a year and a half and in physiotherapy for six months. When he was finally able to leave the hospital, he flew back home where he started looking for me. He found out that I was getting married and called the police to come arrest me.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened that night?” the officer says.

I shake my head, telling him that I can’t. I am not sure I can revisit the horror of what my life used to be. It has taken me three years to find normal and I have to hold on to that with everything I have. I see sympathy in the eyes of this man seated across from me. I know that I have to speak. My freedom depends on it. So I begin to narrate my story.

Matthew and I had a whirlwind romance. Six months after we met, we got married. Everything seemed to be working out well but soon, things began to change. He became emotionally abusive, then turned physical.

The more I tried to be everything he wanted me to be, the angrier he seemed to get. Of course, I thought about leaving him but I was too scared. He made me feel that I couldn’t survive without him. I started to feel inadequate, like I couldn’t do any thing right. My self-esteem was shattered and I withdrew.

I would avoid my friends because I didn’t want them to find out what was going on and I couldn’t face my parents because I didn’t want to lie to them about my marriage. He became my whole world.

On one of his good days, he arranged for us to go on a cruise along the Indian Ocean coastline. It was his way of apologising for a particularly brutal beating. I readily agreed, thinking that this would be a turning point for us. Being away from home on holiday would do us a world of good.

The cruise was wonderful. Matthew was attentive and sweet. He became the man that I had fallen in love with. We swam, lounged on the deck and ate in different restaurants every night. It was pure bliss. I was sure that we had come through the worst of it and our marriage was taking a turn for the better.

One day, as Matthew was taking an afternoon nap, I decided to take a walk. As I was leaning on the railing on the top deck appreciating the sunset, one of the passengers and I struck up a conversation. He told me that he was a lawyer based in Zimbabwe and was currently on leave. I told him that I was traveling with my husband and we were from Kenya. We carried on in idle conversation for about half an hour and once the sun had set, I went to look for Matthew so that we could go down for dinner.

On getting to the room, I found Matthew in a foul mood. I wasn’t sure what had upset him and on asking him, he said he didn’t want to talk about it. He sulked all through dinner. One the way back to our cabin, he told me he wanted us to stay on the deck for a while and star gaze. We found ourselves at the railing I was at earlier.

He turned to me in fury and asked me why I had been flirting with another man here while he was asleep. I tried to assure him that it was an innocent conversation but he wasn’t having any of it. He started to punch me in the stomach, careful to avoid landing blows anywhere where there would be visible bruising the next day.

I cried out for help but nobody was around to hear me. I tried to get away from him but his grip was too strong. I grabbed one of the tiki torches positioned on the deck and swung it at him. He moved to avoid the flame, lost his footing and went overboard.

The captain and his crew searched all night. The next day, a search party was sent out but after two weeks, with no sign of him, it was called off. I went back home, held a memorial service for him and moved out of the house that held so many bad memories. It took me months of therapy to get over the ordeal and rebuild my confidence.

It took me an even longer time to allow myself to get involved in another relationship. However, Kevin won me over and eventually, we decided to get married. I obviously had no idea that Matthew was still alive.

The kind police officer informed me that Matthew had a different version of the story. According to him I lured him to the deck and pushed him overboard. It was my word against his and some months later, as I stood in front of the judge and pleaded not guilty, I prayed the truth would prevail.

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