Edward Blake wasn't much of a jealous man. He was a lot of things - egotistical, sociopathic, sarcastic and angry at times; but he hadn't ever cared enough about someone to truly feel that jealous twinge that was currently causing his jaw to subconsciously clench.

At first he wouldn't admit it to himself, misplacing the jealousy for anger over matters other than his current situation, though there was no denying it. Watching Sally Jupiter slink down the isle on her wedding day, clad in a gown that left with an appearance no less than stunning left a jealous burn in Edward Blake's chest.

Larry Schexnayder, he thought, what a fuckin' square.

Eddie stared ahead at the alter where the man waited for his bride-to-be and only turned when heard the voice of Nelson Gardiner beside him claim, "They'll make a great pair."

Who the fuck is he kidding? A great fuckin' pair? Eddie had the urge to reach across and break his jaw from such a senseless, asinine remark. Rather, he quietly whispered a short synopsis of his novella of thoughts, "He's too fuckin' boring to entertain a woman like Sally."

"He balances her out," Nelson politely argued.

"More like flattens her out." Eddie discreetly removed a flask from the inner pocket of his suit and took a swig, prompting a look from his three former crime-fighting comrades beside him. "The fuck are you looking at?"

A woman in the row in front of them turned and Eddie politely smiled, ducking the flash between his knees until she turned back around when the preacher called for everyone to stand in prayer.

The ceremony was ultimately a blank for Eddie - a blank space of mumbled words, head nods and tears. Sally was the only constant - a picturesque beauty far more stunning in her white gown than even the tight, yellow crime fighting piece that she wore all too well.

What the fuck are you doing Sally? He wanted to ask her and suddenly wished he had prior to the afternoon of her wedding. They had been in the same circle for years, whether fighting crime together or otherwise. Eddie really didn't know why Sally had kept in touch with him after their violent altercation that had cast a cloud on their existing relationship prior to the event. When he received the invitation in the mail, a pale pink envelope that smell just barely of perfume, the knot that lingered in his chest ignited and for possibly the first time ever his body was filled with feelings of regret.

He had imagined her sitting at the kitchen table with one leg crossed over the other ferociously scribbling down names and addresses on the front side of each envelope. He imaged the tug-of-war that must have taken place in her mind when his name crashed through it.

Do I or don't I? Eddie imagined her thinking to herself before exiting the kitchen with the blank-canvased invitation only to spray a quick puff of her best perfume from the bedroom before scribbling in perfect cursive the two parts of his name with a whisper - Edward Blake.

"Eddie," Hollis Mason was tugging at the left sleeve of his jacket and Eddie snapped out of the temporary daydream. "You can sit, Eddie. They're going to say their vows."

The woman in front of them glanced over her shoulder again and Eddie looked down at her, this time telling the middle-aged busy-body to mind her own business as he slouched back into the seat, extending an arm back the back of Holli's chair. With a huff, the woman turned back around and he could practically hear her mother-fucking him in her mind.

Like I give a shit, he thought.

"Now, repeat after me," the priest began, prompting more tears as people slid to the edges of their seats in an attempt to get a better look.

Eddie stayed slumped back, but kept his eyes locked on Sally's lips as she carefully repeated the words he was sure they'd rehearsed the night before to get it right. With each word it felt like a knife was cutting him deeper, piercing his skin first and the entering his heart with full force, the final words of "I do" proving to be the final plunge into the depths of him when the marriage truly became official.

Larry slipped the ring on her finger and Sally kissed him in cliché fashion on command of the priest before scanning the crowd with a big, fake smile to please the cameramen and all of those who had come in support of her. Just before the crowd rose to its feet and they were called Mr. and Mrs. Schexnayder for the first time, Sally's eyes met Eddie's and for a moment the corners of her mouth dropped just a hair to release the fake portion of the grin that they all knew would look dashing and authentic in pictures. What she was left with for Eddie was genuine - a smile that was barely there but shining through in her dilated pupils. The moment couldn't have lasted for all of a second or two before the rows of people separating the two of them stood up, breaking the brief intense moment that had occurred so discreetly between them.

When Eddie finally rose to his feet he saw the arch in Sally's neck as she strained for just a moment to see him again before doing her part on the day of her wedding and marching back down the isle, hand in hand with her new husband Larry Schexnayder.

"Congratulations Sally," Byron Lewis, "The Mothman", and her dear friend congratulated her as the pair passed by the last row where her closest allies from the Minutemen all sat.

She smiled, reaching for his hand for a second with her free one and gave another smile.

Eddie clapped slightly off-beat with the rest of his old friends and made sure to capture another second's worth of eye contact as Sally had no choice but to pass by him nearly shoulder to shoulder. Her eyes were eager now, waiting for him to say something; anything as the last of the snaps from the photographers went off with bright flashes of light.

He owed her that moment - something simple and nice; everything that he wasn't. Against his desires he remained generic in his fleeting words with her. "Congratulations honey." Eddie smiled painfully and had the urge to reach back into his pocket for the flash of liquor to take the edge off but out of respect he didn't. His hands continued to come together, repeating the clapping sound over and over again until his hands were a shade darker.

When a hand came down on his shoulder he jumped, his first instincts to fight from all he'd been through in the war and otherwise but a smile formed on his face when Hollis stood next to him with a grin and a subsequent pat on the back. "Well... that part's over. Now, let's go get drunk."