Dez pulled his car into spot 127, turned off the engine, and opened the car door. He grabbed the tripod from the passenger seat and swung it over his shoulder while fumbling around for his laptop case with his other hand. Filmmaking was his passion, but long intense days of shooting like today were very exhausting. He reached up to his plaid scarf and unloosened it, letting it hang down around his neck. The vast white of his apartment complex stretched before him. Just seven months ago, it had seemed so enormous and unwelcoming. Now, all he had to do was look at his apartment door to feel at home. He could always find it—maybe that had something to do with the rainbow duck tape that adorned its edge. Instead of an empty apartment, he had a quiet, cozy little place where he could hang out after work. He walked up the two flights of stairs to his apartment without dropping his tripod-something he always considered a feat. He opened the door and set his cap and scarf on the hook.
He opened his laptop. Checking for new film reviews on his favorite site was always the first thing on his agenda when he got home. Today, though, there weren't any new ones. Hearing the distant high pitched music from an ice cream truck reminded him that he was hungry. He wandered into the kitchen and got himself a glass of water. What would it be today? Sometimes he liked to cook, but he didn't feel like hassling with the oversensitive smoke alarm today. He could always do pizza, but he had ordered it three times this week already. Maybe he'd head to the nearest Chinese takeout place. He didn't feel like going out again, so he did some research until he found a place that did delivery. He made his order and settled down on the couch to relax.
Maybe he didn't feel like going out, but it also sounded boring to just sit around all evening. His apartment was perfectly quiet apart from the sound of water dripping from the kitchen sink faucet. He could also hear his downstairs neighbors. Their three kids were never quiet. At the moment, it sounded like the kids were singing along with something on tv. It wasn't fun to get woken up at six in the morning to the sounds of kids arguing, but it generally brightened his day to think about how happy they all were. The couple next door were perfectly quiet as usual. At first, he had been surprised that he never heard them arguing, but then he had learned that they were newlyweds. Hearing that had made it all click. He understood that perfectly; he had once been a happy newlywed himself.
The cathedral ceiling was definitely majestic that bright June morning, but he had hardly noticed it. Instead, his eyes were intent on its sunlit foyer. His heart beat quickly in anticipation. Any moment now, she would appear. Sure, he'd already seen her during the "first look" that the photographer had insisted on. She'd been beautiful there, but she would be spectacular here against the artistic background of the wooden arches, gold chandeliers, and spotless white walls. She'd be the painting no artist-including himself-could draw although he knew he'd try. The wait was getting long, and he could feel himself getting impatient. He hadn't even realized that he was moving around until he felt Austin's hand on his arm.
Finally, she had appeared. He had smiled at her, and the smile that had stretched across her face in response was the biggest one he'd ever seen. She was radiant. The birdcage veil she wore created shadows on her glowing olive face. Her curls were perfectly in place, pulled off of her neck with an exquisite gold hair pin. The dress was absolute perfection and look as if it was made just for her. The mermaid cut, sweetheart neckline, and purple glitter covered skirt reflected her taste exactly.
After what had seemed like another forever, she had reached the front, and her dad had given him her arm. The minister had told them to turn and hold hands. As he stood there facing her, his overwhelmed feelings had made their way into words. "Hello, gorgeous. We're finally here," he had breathed, winking at her. He knew that he wasn't supposed to be talking to her, but seeing her like that left him with no choice. She had pinched his arm and told him to shut up. The blush and smile that she had given in response had told him otherwise. Their quiet whispers had continued throughout the ceremony. He had hardly been able to believe that it was not just the two of them. The ceremony had ended with fireworks as he pulled her in for a quick dip kiss. After the minister had presented them as Mr. and Mrs. Dezmond Wade, he had been so happy that he had thought that it would be impossible for him to feel any happier. And so they had walked down the wide aisle destined for the beautiful world of happily ever afters.
A knock on the door interrupted Dez from his walk down memory lane. As he opened it, he remembered that he had ordered Chinese. He paid the delivery man, walked back to the living room, and set the food on the low coffee table. He didn't really feel like eating at the moment. Instead, he pulled out his phone to look for his favorite wedding picture. There they were. The photos was just the same as always. Dez sat on the stump; his face lit up in a quirky smile. Trish stood at his side with her hand on his arm. She was gazing his direction; her glance told of implicit trust. He loved this photo because it told the story of what he had felt that day— intimate closeness and perfect happiness. Looking at the photo, one couldn't help but realize that he was her hero. Knowing that she depended on him had made him feel like a man. Sure, she was quite the feisty girl, but she had her weaknesses. He knew what they were, and he would take care of her. Best of all, she had perfect confidence in the fact that he would.
But it wasn't that way anymore. He had told himself that it was okay. Everything would work out in the end. They just needed some time to work through things. Now, though, he had to admit what he had long known to be true. No matter what he chose to call it, the truth was that an invisible wall had grown up between them. It was as if someone had torn the picture of their perfect happiness apart. He had said that he was happy in his little apartment home. But the truth was that every time he heard the downstairs neighbors he thought about how they had what he had always wanted. He wasn't happy at all. He couldn't be without the wife who he'd promised to always love and the children who were the outcome of their continuing love story. He had to admit it; things were changing, and he could see the destination. It was…he didn't really want to say it. Divorce. They were heading for divorce. He had known it for the whole seven months and dreaded saying it for the first time. To his surprise, it felt better to admit what had been weighing on his mind. Living in denial wouldn't change the reality. He sat up and rested his head on his hands. He felt like watching a favorite movie and forgetting it all, but forgetting couldn't change this. The reality that he had long refused to admit was true. They were drifting apart, and he didn't know what to do.
Author's note: Hope that wasn't too depressing! :) This is my attempt at a multichapter story. Somehow, one shots or sets of connected one shots seem a lot easier for me to write. However, all of you do such a great job with multichapter stories that I've got to at least give it a shot.