Of Love and Deceit

Their marriage was quaint. Under the lazy white lights of a courthouse waiting room, Marcus and Vanessa sat together, hands clasped, fingers interweaved, hearts pounding. Alongside them were four or five of their closest friends, but in the lovers' world all they could see were each other. She was wearing the same wedding dress her mother wore on her special day, years ago. He was wearing a suit rented from a cheap place in the mall, to be returned later that day. They both thought the other was beautiful.

Finally, their names were called, and together, under the watchful eye of a court clerk, the two became one. With a kiss, and a tear, their hearts threatened to burst. It was everything they wanted and more. Marcus's friend whistled with his fingers in his mouth; one of Vanessa's ran up and hugged her tight. Everyone was happy. Unfortunately, business hours were almost over, and the courthouse was soon to close, and so, after arranging transportation ("Andrew, you can ride with Stephanie"), everyone went to the newly weds' apartment.

The apartment was small, cozy. They had lucked out on an affordable place in a good part of town. Initially, they were nervous, because they both, individually, owned their own houses nearby, but, in the end, neither found out about the other's. Under the guise of picking something up from an estranged uncle ("who definitely shouldn't come to the wedding"), that same morning, Marcus had brought Vanessa to his house, just to see how she'd react. Instead of commenting on the size of the house, or the fact that she'd never met the uncle before, Vanessa simply waited in the car, patiently. When Marcus finally came out carrying nothing, all she did was mention how she'd like to meet this mysterious uncle. Marcus smiled, knowing he wasn't making a mistake.

The party of seven filled every available seat in the apartment. Drinks were poured, games were played. After the sun had been down for hours, and people had had enough time to sober up, the party came to a halt, ending with plenty of hugs and kisses. The two promised to themselves they'd clean up the mess tomorrow as they fell in love again in their bedroom.

The next day, on a plane, Vanessa couldn't help but admire her husband's handsomeness as he snored next to her. His messy dark hair, his clean aloha shirt, the way his chest drifted up and then down with every breath—it was all perfect in her eyes. She had to restrain herself from pouncing on him. After putting a movie on the tiny screen, she drifted off as well.

On their first night of their honeymoon, they had agreed to arrive at dinner separately. "It will be like our first date, all over again," Marcus said. Vanessa giggled. "Hopefully I don't spill wine all over my dress again. I could barely afford to get it washed," she said.

Sitting in the restaurant, not in an aloha shirt anymore, nor a rented tux, but now a hand-sewn five-thousand-dollar suit, Marcus's heart pounded. How would she take the news? The doomsday scenario in his mind was this: she'd see him and nervously take her seat. He'd tell her how he was rich all along, hiding it from her the entire time. Finally hearing his lie (which wasn't much of a lie, he thought, but more like an omission), Vanessa would frown, and ask why he had hid it for so long, and then maybe, just maybe, if he had read her wrong, if she wasn't the woman he thought she was, her trust would be broken forever. An irreparable fissure. He'd nod his head and walk out of the restaurant, never to see her again. He'd understand.

Instead, though, as he saw her enter the room, he was the one confused. She shone brighter than the chandeliers, the wine bottles, and the lights themselves. It was as if an angel had arrived onto earth. It was impossible to draw your eyes away. She had on a golden dress and silver jewellery. Her hair was perfectly styled and her makeup brought out the already stunning features of her face. She was beautiful.

"Vanessa," Marcus said, standing from his seat, unable to stop himself from giggling. "Wow! Since when did you have, uh, all that?"

"Mark," Vanessa said, laughing as well at the situation, "how about yourself?" She pointed at him with her palm facing up. "I didn't know you were so stylish. I bet that suit cost a pretty penny."

Standing in front of her, Marcus put his hand on the back of her head as he looked into her twinkling eyes. Both of their faces were saying the same thing: I already knew. There were misplaced bank statements, missing receipts. A ring mistaken for one a thousand times cheaper. Cologne that a high-school English teacher couldn't afford. Both of them had been sloppy in hiding their wealth, and maybe it had been on purpose.

"You think it's okay?" Vanessa asked. "Us, like this? We lied to each other for years, you know?"

Marcus nodded. "Of course it's okay," he said, as he began to cry, and brought Vanessa's head closer to his. She smelled like heaven.

And then, in the middle of that restaurant, under the dim lights of the chandeliers, they kissed each other so passionately, so warmly, so lovingly, knowing that, finally, they both had found true love.

*****

THE END.