Chapter 19: Happily Ever After?

When we take our sacred vows on our wedding day, we vow to love and to cherish the one we are to marry. We promise so many things that we cannot possibly hope to keep them all. When we walk up the aisle, we say the two words, which can alter our lives forever. Those two sacred words cement a marriage – "I do." What if we weren't to say them, would it alter the course of our lives to a degree beyond which we can control? And would we live, happily ever after?

Emily awoke to her wedding day, with butterflies in her stomach.

Exhausted, yet exhilarated, Emily found herself shaking as she went down for breakfast, then returned upstairs to begin to prepare.

She applied her make-up, staring into the mirror, her pale skin shining pallid through gentle fuchsia blusher.

Reaching for her brush, she thought of Dylan, the man she would marry. Her thoughts were laced with frantic last-minute wonderings.

Moments of bleak panic filled her, but she was quick to soothe herself, by concentrating on the laborious task.

Satisfied with her toilette, and beautifully curled locks of gold, she headed for the wardrobe, slipping in a pair of jeans and a lacy crop-top. She looked at the white wedding dress, which she would be wearing before noon.

A bubble of joy burst within her, and she felt her eyes well up with tears. Within warning, she burst into tears and her make-up ran, her eyes now resembling those of a giant panda.

She cried for anguish she had put Dylan and Jay through, and she wept for her love for this man. She sobbed for a renewed chance, and she whined for a perfect day.

She headed to the en-suite and washed her face of the ruined make-up, and returned to the dressing table to reapply the makeup.

Her monotonous life of adultery and isolation was finally over. The spell was broken.

She would be Mrs. Dylan Waters before the lunchtime.

Melissa sat in the spare room of Appleby Store, a room masked by dust of countless boxes of supplies. The room was cold, well ventilated and frosty to preserve the frozen goods.

Melissa was sat in the corner, perched on a small stool, examining the contents of one of the small cardboard boxes. She sighed, a desperate loneliness overwhelming her as she remembered Sonya.

And the cruel death she had being given.

Sonya gazed out into the lonely night. The sky was midnight blue, with specs of white stars glittering high in the heavens. In this lonely house, outside of Hinsdale, resided the Johnson's.

It was their first house in this country. They had lived in Italy once before, and they had returned from Africa to purchase this small bungalow in the middle of nowhere.

"Mother," Sonya said, her young eyes twinkling with hope. "When will Daddy be home?"

Melissa looked up from her knitting to her daughter. Sonya was a pretty child, nearly nineteen and amazingly gifted by both her cherub-like looks and her unchallenged intellect. Waves of silk black hair framed a pale, freckled face with youthful green eyes. Melissa smiled proudly at her only daughter.

"He's at home, Sonya," Melissa replied innocently. "He'll be home soon,"

Melissa returned to her knitting, sewing her blanket from the multicoloured thread from her small, black box – engraved with a silver elephant. A gift from Sean.

"He's at work, dear. You know how it is," Melissa said, breaking the awkward silence that had fell between the two women.

Sonya glared coldly at her mother, her eyes now contorted into sparkling emeralds of rage. "Mother, I know what Daddy does."

Melissa didn't know how to respond, so remained silent.


"Daddy kills innocent people because his boss tells him. In Africa he hunted rare, endangered animals." Sonya shrieked hysterically. "Yet you sit at home and let him!"

Melissa continued to feign deafness, so Sonya continued, her voice slowly rising.

"Why don't you stop him mother? He's a criminal. He is a filthy convict. His hands should be laced with cuffs, rather than garnished by expensive watches!" Sonya cried in desperation.

Without warning, Melissa stood up, her calm face now transformed into a mask of rage. "Listen to me, Sonya" snapped Melissa. "Your father works as hard as he can to supply us with the very tools to keep us alive. What he does is his business alone! You will not speak to me like that again, or you will be very sorry!"

Sonya slammed the door shut, her eyes now concentrated on her outraged mother. "Daddy is a murderer. You are his accomplice. I'll inform the police in the morning, and perhaps I can start a life without you and Daddy drowning me in your desperate world of crime and despair!"

"You're so desperate to move out that you'd hand in your own mother." Melissa said, taken aback by this revelation.

"I'd rather die than help you and Dad cover up your malicious lives of treachery and crime!" Sonya bellowed.


"Then, so be it!" Melissa said. Without warning, she lunged forward, knocking Sonya to the floor. Her daughter struggled to breathe, her lungs empty and gasping.


"You don't have the guts to kill me," Sonya managed to gasp, and Melissa brought her hand onto Sonya's cheek, a loud 'slap' echoing as a red handprint bruised Sonya's beautiful face.

Thinking quickly, Melissa ran for the kitchen, and retrieved Sean's prized possession – his hunting rifle that had being framed on the wall.

She returned to the living room to find Sonya on her feet and reaching for dialling keys, her finger hovering above 'nine'.

"I'm sorry it had to end this way, mother." Sonya said without a hint of remorse.

"Put that phone down or you will be very sorry you ever crossed me," Melissa breathed heavily, cocking the rifle and aiming for her daughter's heart. She had sufficient training from Sean to know how to kill her prey.

Sonya said nothing - simply indenting the 'nine' key, with a vivacious smirk on her face. The dialling tone was the final sound Sonya heard, as within the millisecond, a bullet pierced her heart, cracking her ribs and tore away at the muscles and tissue. A scream left her voice box but never escaped her mouth, as she collapsed on the cold, hard, wooden floor, surrounded by a pool of her own dark blood.

The blood slowly oozed from the wound, slowly dripping onto the priceless rug.

'Drip. Drip. Drip.'

Its noise echoed in Melissa's ears as she thought of the enormity of the crime she had committed. A dry sob left her throat, and she dropped the gun, sobbing gently into her hands as the blood spread over the floor and Sonya laid dead.

'Drip. Drip. Drip.'


Melissa looked up at the sound of dripping, and realized she had left the tap on, trying to wash the imaginary blood from her eternally stained hands.

With a sigh of torment and despair, she grasped the handle and secured it, ceasing the dripping of water.

"Father…forgive me for I have sinned," Melissa said, looking to the sky through a dirty window, seeking advice from the heavens.

"Whoosh!"

Kai sat with Catherine, his blue airplane circling the pink one which she held.

"Stop it Kai!" whined Catherine. Catherine strongly resembled her radiant mother, with golden curls and an angelic face – which was upturned into a pout.

"Kai, I don't want to play airplanes" she protested, as Ben's son continued to make plane noises and circle Catherine.

"I want to talk about my mummy, Kai" Catherine whined, and Kai stopped, putting his plane back in the toy box looking very disgruntled.

"My mummy says my new daddy is Andrew." Catherine said in a very matter-of-factly voice, even though she was only eight.

"What about your old daddy?" Kai wondered, the younger of the two at seven and nine months – precisely.

"Mummy said my old Daddy is going away and not coming back because he's being naughty." Catherine said, a puzzled expression crossing her face,

"My daddy has run away" Kai said. "Mummy said he went on holiday and is going to bring back loads of presents." The child's eyes lit up in anticipation.

"My mummy said your daddy ran away because nasty people were after him." Catherine said returning her pink plane to the toy box, a thoughtful look crossing her young face.

"Mummy was crying when he left though," Kai said. "Maybe nasty people were making her sad too."

There was a sudden pause, stillness among the youths as they recollected on what they had discussed and the thoughts that stormed around their brains, each theory more ridiculous than the last.

"Why don't our parents tell us the truth?" asked a sad Kai after the silence.

"They don't think we'd like it," Catherine concluded, smiling kindly at Kai. "My mummy says I'm too little."

"So does my mummy." Kai said grumpily.

Without warning, the oak door swung open and a loud bang echoed when it made contact with the wall.

"It's Lunchtime, kiddo" said Nadine to Kai and Catherine. "Catherine, Tom said he'll take you home later, so you can have your lunch here."

Kai noticed his older sister was tightly gripping Tom's hand.

"Nadine? Where's daddy?" asked Kai, smiling sweetly.

"He's…" Nadine struggled to find a word. "…Safe," she concluded. "He'll visit again when he can,"

A grin crossed Kai's face. "Everything's going to be just fine," he said, as they went downstairs for Lunch.

A smoky atmosphere settled in the Dale Household. While the remnants of the Bourne family were at the Jones house, Andrew and Alex settled down into business once more.

Piles of paperwork mounted around the men, and Alex coughed slightly as he inhaled with a cigarette in his open mouth.

"Put that out," snapped Andrew, beads of sweat and a look of concentration creasing his face.

"When have you being 'Mum'?" retorted Alex, obliging all the same and extinguishing the smoking stick.

"Since you were five years old," snapped Andrew irritably, wrinkles deepening in his skin. "Now concentrate on this." He produced a sheet of paper, which detailed the residents of each house.

"We've narrowed it down to these three," he circled Brad, Charlene and surprisingly, Catherine Gardener.

"She's dead though," Alex gestured to Catherine's photograph. "Someone killed her,"

The smoky atmosphere subsided, and sunlight poured through the grimy blinds. Dust gathered on them, making them seem old. Andrew reached for them.

"Explain why she had a house full of Terri's childhood stuff" he said, closing the blinds, darkness enveloping them.

A torch flickered on, and panic diminished. "I will find Terri's killer," Andrew vowed, his eyes bearing a solemn strength about them. Alex watched his older brother, the dark circles beneath the bright blue eyes. He looked older, premature wisps of grey in his faint brown hair.

"Hey, Andy," Alex said, after several moments had passed. "Why are you so obsessed with catching Terri's killer?"

Andrew pressed his lips tightly together, his voice devoid of any emotion. "Because," he began, his eyes shining with maturity. "Terri is my wife's sister."

The room was dark, shrouded by a cloak of shadows that was unnatural for this time of the day. A sole figure, stood in front of the robed windows, watched the door, waiting. Her eyes left the door, focusing on a white vase, decorated with pale blue flowers.

The sound of footsteps on the wooden floor brought Sophie's eyes back to the door. Brad entered, flicking the solitary switch and illuminating the room.

"Sophie." He whispered, closing the door slowly, before sliding across the floor and joining the other woman on the other side and kissing her on the lips. Sophie drew back, and Brad's fell back, a look of curiosity and confusion covering his face.

"Is something wrong?" he inquired, to a distraught woman.
Sophie's eyes leaked a tear. "I'm married…or I was."

Brad wiped the tears from her eyes. "Who was it?" he demanded, a slight anger in his voice.

"His name was Dale-" She managed to mutter; when the sound of uneven footsteps echoed in the hallway and the pair left each other's arms. Terri entered with a look of mock confusion on her face.

"Oh sorry," she said sweetly. "I'm not entirely sure which room is which," she said, tapping her head. "Amnesia," she reminded them.

Sophie looked at her sister, then to Brad. "It's O.K.," she said, returning the false kindness with a cold smirk.

"Did I interrupt you?" she said, and Brad shook his head mutely, storming towards the door.

"Mind the vase-" Terri said, stepping out his way, but the door slammed shut and the white vase fell, shattering.

"I'll get the dustpan," said Terri, leaving the solitary figure by the window, with a tear in her eye.

The evening was slowly coming, and the sky was picturesque, a romantic orange and pink crossing the sky, with the faintest of stars underneath the bright sky, as nighttime approached.

The church was full, a mixture of unique clothing amongst the tiers of people. An elderly man, decorated in a white pastor's outfit, with matching hair and long, draping beards, stood in front of an altar.

Before him was Dylan, dressed in a suave black suit. On the first row, sat a young-looking woman, with features greatly enhanced by botox and plastic surgery, landing her with a incredibly large smile and a face of make-up over the perky twenty-something woman. It was Emily's younger sister, who held Jay – dressed in a blue-and-white sailor's outfit.

"Where is she?" Dylan whispered to his best man – Ben – who shrugged.

"She will be here," hissed Emily's sister.

Suddenly, the church doors opened, and sunlight streamed into the dark church. Emily's hair fell in curly locks at her pale shoulders. A long, traditional white dress covered her pale skin, and the sunlight behind her gave her an almost angelic look. Her hands held a bunch of white lilies.

The tiers of people stood instantly, several gasps from them. The women envied the intricate dress, while the men admired the visible amount of flesh she was showing.

Kai and Catherine skipped down the aisle first, spreading flower petals on the red carpet in matching outfits of blue.

Emily followed, at a slow pace, as the music played, the theme echoing in Emily's ears. Her second time had to work – she was reliving the dream, and this time, it would not end in divorce.

She reached the altar, and smiled a dazzling smile at Dylan, as there was the uneven sound of united sitting.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here to join together this woman and this man in holy matrimony," the priest said in a long, boring voice. "If anyone should show just cause, why they may not be joined together in holy matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace."

There was a deathly silence, while Emily felt the turmoil in her stomach. It rattled her bones, and she shivered, the veil flickering.

The priest waited a few moments, before returning to his monotonous speech. "Repeat after me," he said, and Dylan recited as he was instructed.

"I, Dylan Waters, take you, Emily Thomas, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

The priest nodded, and turned to Emily, who took a deep breath, and began to recite her vows. "I, Emily Thomas, take you, Dylan Waters, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

The priest flashed his yellow teeth at Emily. "Dylan, will you take Emily to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honour her, and keep her in sickness and in health until death do you part?"

Dylan nodded. "I do," he turned to Emily, and the pair held hands. Dylan's face changed from joy to confusion as he saw the tears streaming down Emily's face.

"And Emily, will you take Dylan to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honour him, and keep him in sickness and in health until death do you part?"

The silence was unnerving.

Ellie looked at Amy with a look of concern, and the whole church sat in utter quiet, as they awaited Emily to say her words. However, the blonde-haired woman, tears spilling down her pale face, shook her head.

"No, I can't marry this man,"

There was an outburst of cries, some in confusion, and others in anger. Jay began to whimper, as Dylan stared at his wife, who was sobbing hysterically.

"I'm sorry everybody," she said, before running back up the aisle and leaving the church.

"Well, that was certainly interesting," said Charlene, with a sneer, before clasping her handbag tightly. "We should get going. I have a hair appointment at seven."

Emily stopped outside the church and collapsed in tears, sobbing hysterically. No matter how she had tried, her voice had quivered, and her brain betrayed her heart. She could not marry Dylan, with the memory of their first failed marriage still fresh in her memory.

The sky had shifted; the stars were slowly appearing as pinpricks of white against the darkening blue sky. The moon had not yet risen, but the sun had set – leaving the town in a strange sense of twilight.

Emily cupped her face and sobbed silently, her dress crumpled.

Memories of our past return to us as we walk down that aisle to a live of sacred marriage and devotion to the one we love. When the world comes crashing down, these are the people we love and turn to, to make things better. However, these sacred vows do not determine our future. The future for Emily Thomas was bleak, no matter how she tried to deny her future. Happily ever after is nothing more than a dream of bliss, and our dreams can sometimes betray us…