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A hush fell over the church as the flower girl pranced forward, dropping her delicate petals onto the carpeted runner. The bridesmaids, Rosita, Sasha and Tara looked beautiful in their lavender dresses, though Tara felt uncomfortable in the unusual outfit. Her aversion to wearing a dress was blatantly obvious, for which she earned a quick jab from Sasha's elbow, slightly nudging her towards the aisle. Sasha winked at Olivia as she followed Tara, leaving the bride chuckling softly as she took her father's arm.
Eugene took a deep breath to steady his nerves, the congregation rising to their feet as the bridal march began to play, and Olivia appeared to make her procession down the aisle.
For the first time since she and Daryl had arrived and taken their seats, she was able to let go of her stress and simply enjoy the beautiful scene before her. Of course, she was reminded of her own wedding so long ago, but it was a closed chapter of her life which was in no way similar to the love and joy Eugene and Olivia shared. She was beyond thrilled for the bridal couple, and wanted to celebrate and enjoy the evening with them and their friends, Daryl close to her side. And though their appearance as a couple was only temporary for this one evening, she wanted to cherish every second she had with him. The hand holding and other small gestures towards her might have only been pretense, but for her it really felt as though they belonged together in some way. He was very good at this.
The newlyweds exited the church first, awaiting their guests there on the front steps to thank them all for coming while accepting their heartfelt congratulations. Daryl stuck close to Carol, his hand never far from the small of her back as he shyly shook hands with her friends. He could count how many weddings he'd attended in his life on a closed fist.
The receiving line finally broke up as the photographer called the bridal party together for pictures and a good number of guests began making their way to their cars. Michonne's head could be seen, bobbing over taller shoulders, her hand waving in the air as she tried to garner Carol's attention before she and Daryl could get to her little Fiat. Carol stopped when she heard her name, turning in time for Michonne to burst through the crowd and seize her in a bear hug which nearly stole her breath.
She didn't waste any time eyeing Daryl from top to toe. "So …" Michonne fairly purred. "This must be Daryl, yes?" she asked curiously.
He missed her comforting touch as Carol greeted her friend, longing to snatch her back to his side. He blushed to the tips of his ears and cleared his throat nervously as he introduced himself - for what felt like the hundredth time that day - and shook hands with Michonne and her husband. He looked the man over warily, having had to contend with Rick's disgruntled scrutiny already in the church. The bearded man had judged him skeptically - and rather coldly - from the first second Daryl had noticed him. He hadn't known what to think about Rick or why the man had given him the stink eye. For the life of him, Daryl couldn't imagine what he'd done wrong.
Carol's friends were an eclectic bunch. A groom who looked as if he was still trapped in the eighties, a moody looking guy with a beard with a judgemental air, and an African-American rasta woman who only needed a sword to make her look like a samurai … not to mention all the other people he'd been introduced to. It was a motley mix of people who couldn't have been more different from the woman he adored, yet they were all her friends. He could only wonder what the night had in store for them.
"The wedding ceremony was so beautiful, don't you think, Daryl?" Carol asked dreamily as they trekked their way from the car to the hotel entrance.
Olivia had made such a lovely bride, looking like a sweet cream cake in all of the layers of tulle and bridal silk she'd worn, and Carol thought she might've been the luckiest bride in existence to have found love with Eugene. She didn't think she'd ever seen a couple more in love with one another.
Daryl struggled under the weight of the gift he carried. He felt like a weak pussy with arms seemingly too short to wrap properly around the huge box. "Hmm, uh, yeah," he wheezed, unable to see his own feet.
"Oh dear, do you need a hand with that?" Carol offered, even if she didn't know how both of them would manage to carry the package together. But the poor man next to her looked as if he would stem the whole weight of the world in his strong arms. After she'd seen him moving her washing machine, she'd thought there would be nothing he couldn't manage.
Daryl felt sweat bead on his brow and run down from his temples as he shook his head. "Naw … I got this, but are ya sure there ain't a whole kitchen in it? I can carry m' coffee maker with two fingers! How did ya even get this in th' car?" he breathed.
"The two shop clerks put it in my car when I picked it up yesterday. Thank god for in-store gift wrapping. It's a coffee maker with a dual-drip filter and built-in grinder," she giggled, a hand rising to cover her mouth. "I really have no idea how heavy it is."
Raising his sweaty brows, Daryl said, "Sounds expensive."
"It's a collective gift from me, Michonne, Rick and Andrea. I couldn't have afforded something like this on my own. Andrea wanted to bring it, but unfortunately she isn't here today; she had an emergency in New York and couldn't reschedule. She's a lawyer," Carol explained.
Andrea? Lawyer? Th' fuck? Daryl's heart skipped a beat, and the sweat increased when he heard the familiar description of one of his former clients. Damn! It's got to be a coincidence … it has to be … it couldn't be the same woman. There are so many lawyers in this town, and Andrea isn't an uncommon name.
Daryl brooded as he thought about the possible connection, but no matter what, he was glad he wouldn't have to meet this Andrea to find out.
When they finally managed to find their way from the parking area into the hotel, Daryl was glad no one would recognize him behind the wall of wrapping paper and ribbons which concealed him. In the past, the receptionist and some of the other staff had always greeted him with a nod when he'd often used this place to meet with his clients. He didn't fool himself that he wouldn't eventually be recognized, but he didn't think anyone would say anything. Why would they?
With Carol's help, they were finally able to locate the gift table and relieve Daryl of his burden. After he'd found his breath again, he gave the hall a closer inspection. It was a bit bigger than Daryl had imagined it would be, and wonderfully adorned mainly in white and lavender. He was impressed; someone had spared no expense to provide a lavish wedding and reception for the newlyweds.
A chart at the entrance and little handwritten place cards helped them find their seats quickly. Rick and Michonne would sit at their table, along with Tyreese and Karen. Carol was glad they wouldn't have to share the table with Tobin and Paula, but the place cards had been informative. They would have a great view of Carol's back from the table behind them.
Before Daryl had a chance to take a seat next to Carol, Rick suddenly appeared at his side.
"How about us guys grabbing some drinks for our ladies. What do you think?" he asked, a predatory gleam in his crystalline eyes.
Daryl nodded in wary agreement, tensing as he was caught off guard by the man. He hadn't even thought of drinks.
"Wine, ladies?" he asked, receiving a smile of agreement from the women.
Rick led Daryl through the throng of guests - a few still looking for their seats - to the open bar set up along the back wall. He could only imagine the reception to be as expensive as a middle-class sedan.
The men placed their orders and fell silent for a moment, Daryl not having a clue as to what to say to the man. All he wanted was to collect their drinks and return to Carol's side with all haste, but the other man had different ideas.
"Take a seat," Rick demanded in a serious tone, pointing to the barstool next to his.
"I think we should hurry this along … don't wanna keep Carol waiting, y'know?" Daryl stammered.
Rick sat down, his eyes narrowing to slits as he shook his head. "Take. A. Seat!" he repeated in a cold hiss.
Swallowing hard, Daryl did as he'd been told and sat down. He didn't have a clue what to expect from this guy who'd already tried to kill him with a single look at the church.
"So … you and Carol?" Rick began, his eyes frigid.
"Um, yeah … me an' Carol … we're uh … datin'," Daryl choked out, feeling like a prisoner. All that was missing was a pair of cuffs.
"Dating, huh?" Rick sneered. "Does this mean you don't want a serious relationship with her?"
Quickly shaking his head, Daryl fished for the right words and wondered if he'd ever stop sweating. "What? No! Ain't what I wanted t' say … ugh … we've only known each other for a few weeks, an' we're takin' it slow … that's all," he tried to make clear.
"Do you even know anything about her … about her past?" Rick asked sharply, trying to keep his voice low in case others at the bar thought to eavesdrop.
"I know some things, I guess … not everything," Daryl admitted, feeling his face heat. "I know enough … that life ain't always been kind or easy for her."
"You don't know shit! Well, let me tell you something … that woman, she's a force of nature," Rick practically snarled. "What she's been through … what she's survived … She's stronger than she knows. She lost her daughter … she's dead! And her husband - that monster - almost killed her. And just so you know, I won't let anyone hurt her again!"
The cop's threat hung in the air between them, this new information rocking Daryl to the core of his being. He remembered how he'd yelled at her once, the disgusting things which had flown from his wayward tongue. He'd only presumed about her daughter, but now the ugly truth that she'd died … it made his heart burn with unbearable pain. Her husband - that fucker - had almost killed her, and now he knew what she'd meant by her teasing remark of having nine lives, just like him. He hated her ex with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. This new knowledge burrowed its way into the marrow of his bones, and made the bond he shared with her stronger, even if it scared him to know they had so much in common. They'd both lost those closest to them, people they'd loved and they'd almost died by the hands of someone who should have only provided safety, love and shelter.
Daryl stared hard at Rick, realizing the antipathy he'd felt for the guy had been replaced with heartfelt agreement. Even is the grisly man kind of frightened him with his forthright behavior, he nevertheless liked him for the way he wanted to protect Carol. He was grateful she had friends like this who only had her best interests at heart.
"I would never hurt her … never," Daryl mumbled, a shudder wracking his wiry frame.
"Good," Rick pronounced with an overdone toothy grin as he patted Daryl on the back. "But if you fuck this up … I'll kill you and make it look like an accident." Rick added.
When the bartender placed the chilled glasses of wine on the counter, Rick stood up and lifted two of them, leaving Daryl to collect the other two. Daryl followed him back towards the table through the milling crowd, still a bit shocked over their conversation.
"So … we're good?" Rick asked, slowing his steps as they neared their table.
"Yeah, I think so," Daryl responded sheepishly.
The four of them sat at the table, sipping their wine as they tried to ignore the awkward silence which had settled between them. Michonne glared suspiciously at her husband, suspecting him of trying something underhanded. She knew him so well, after all. The other couple who would be sharing their table had yet to arrive.
Michonne thought Daryl was a good choice for the evening, and hadn't hesitated to tell Carol while the men had gone to fetch their drinks, but Michonne had confided in her, voicing her suspicions that Rick would try to intimidate Daryl and play the overprotective brother card. And her best friend had been right, Carol thought. Taking note of Daryl's trembling hands as he set the glass before her, Carol was sure the officer hadn't been very friendly or gracious. She second-guessed her decision not to have filled Rick in on the situation.
Carol shifted in her seat, leaning closer to Daryl, and this time it was she who took his hand in hers to give him a sympathetic squeeze. "I'll be back soon. Don't let Rick bother you … he's not so bad, really," she whispered in his ear, gently caressing his shoulder in support before she and Michonne departed for the ladies room.
Carol exited the stall and quickly headed to the sink to wash her hands, catching sight of Paula leaning against the wall of the ladies room. She caught Michonne's gaze in the mirror, her friend's eyes sparkling with mischief. She was ready to get back to Daryl, but she knew a conversation with Tobin's current flame would be unavoidable. Carol had felt the woman's eyes boring a hole in her back both at the church and the short time she'd been at the table in the banquet hall. It pissed her off. Now, time she could be spending with Daryl would have to be sidelined to accommodate her.
There was something about this little inconspicuous looking secretary, who always appeared reticent and kind. Hidden deeply under the surface of her facade, Carol sensed a reckless and coldly calculating bitch.
Carol sighed, scrubbing diligently at her nails to hide her irritation. "Did you need something, Paula, or were you just planning to stare at me all evening?"
Paula stepped closer, her hazel eyes dull and lifeless as she wrapped an arm about her middle, sucking in a breath as she prepared to speak. "I just wanted to say sorry … because of … you know," she whispered in shame.
Carol arched a brow as her lips formed a half smile of disbelief. "Darling, you don't have to feel sorry for me. You owe me nothing. It wasn't you who cheated on me and broke a promise of fidelity. If you want to feel sorry for anyone, it should be yourself. Do you really think he'll remain faithful to you," she scoffed. "Once a cheater … always a cheater, dear. But I am curious. How long has this been going on between you?"
Michonne snorted as she dried her hands, internally cheering Carol's snark.
Paula shifted uncomfortably as her eyes flitted over to Michonne, but she still hurried to try to explain herself. "Not long after I started working for him, to be honest," Paula admitted, averting her eyes from Carol's piercing gaze. "But it had never been anything serious. He's just a warm body for my bed. I'd say take him back, but I've seen your date, and you look really happy with him," she said, trying to muster a smile to save her dignity.
"Tobin begged me a few weeks ago to come with him to this wedding," Carol said.
"I-I know, he told me," Paula cringed.
Carol's lips curled into a smug smile. "But why would I go with him when I could go with a real man? You are second choice," she sneered.
It wasn't the fact that Tobin had turned to Paula. He'd never been able to hurt her, oh no! Her bitterness stemmed from his lies and betrayal. Actually, she should be thanking the woman for being the little plaything by his side.
"Enjoy him while you can is the only advice I can give you, dear. You deserve one another," Carol said coldly as she moved to the door where Michonne was waiting for her.
"You made the right decision in contrast to me … to dump him," the redhead called after Carol. "I don't even know why I'm still doing this with him, but I am his secretary. My job is to fetch his coffee and make him feel good about himself. I need this job."
"Did you know I would be here?" Carol asked. At Paula's hesitant nod, she sighed. "And yet still you came? Well … I do hope he's paying you well, dear … for your services."
Michonne opened the door and Carol flounced out into the bustle of the hall without a backwards glance. She understood the little game Tobin played with Paula. The woman was selling herself, devoid of even a shred of self-respect. He was using her, and the saddest part was that she was a willing puppet dangling from his strings. Carol was glad Tobin had never been able to touch her heart, and hoped the little affair he and Paula indulged in would force them to learn a lesson and pay the piper for their vile behavior.
Carol's steps were light as she and Michonne made their way back to the table, to their friends and Daryl. She wasn't going to let anyone detract from her enjoyment of the evening, her enjoyment of him. It was sure to be an unforgettable evening for them all and she already had an idea for the lousy couple. Revenge is a dish best served cold.