9.
When Cuddy re-emerged from the master bath, her makeup finally glowing and perfect, she heard no sounds beyond her own room. Not willing to believe it at first, she stepped to the door and placed her ear against it.
The music from the four-piece ensemble drifted from the backyard through the hallway, filling the empty spaces of the house. But there were no footsteps, no voices, no other human sound coming from the nearby vicinity.
Still dubious of her good fortune, Cuddy cautiously opened the door and poked her head through the crack. To her surprise, she was not immediately assailed by either rabbis or family members. She pushed the door wide and still no verbal or physical assaults intruded upon her solitude.
The rabbi had been as good as his word.
Cuddy walked down the hallway without consciously feeling her feet touch the floor. She floated along, following the music toward the rear of the house and her backyard. As soon as she opened the door and stepped onto her patio, the quartet began to play the wedding march.
She looked up and saw the rabbi seemingly standing so very far away. He smiled benevolently at her. Her gaze slid lazily to the right, all the while distorting the images within her field of vision as if she were looking through an antique pane of colored glass. Her eyes ceased their progression when her sight fixed fully upon her groom.
House had never looked more handsome. He wore a dove-grey morning suit, the lapels of the tailored jacket opened to reveal a crisp, white shirt with silver studs forming a straight line along the middle of his chest. A cummerbund of the richest blue brought out the celestial color of his eyes and no tie adorned his throat allowing his shirt to gap ever so slightly at his collarbone, flaunting his long, elegant neck and masculine Adam's apple to full advantage. His lovely, tapered-fingers gripped a silver-handled, polished black cane and he seemed to be leaning his weight only slightly upon it, signaling a low-grade pain day.
Even though it wasn't immediately apparent, she saw the whisper of a smile on his lips and the palpable energy of his joy shining through his cobalt gaze as he beheld her. Cuddy relinquished House's subtlety as a broad smile creased her face as she made her way steadily toward him.
Cuddy was happy, could in fact never remember being so very happy. The entirety of the world fell away as she continued to hold his gaze, those two flames of purest blue beckoning her onward, calling her home.
She took no notice of the flower petals strewn beneath her feet, her daughter's handiwork as flower girl. She didn't see whether her sister was in her place as matron of honor or whether the ever-reliable Wilson stood next to House as best man. She saw not one of her guests seated in the rows of folding chairs nor did she acknowledge the rabbi still standing in front of her as she glided forward.
For she saw no one else but him, selfishly wanted nothing and no one but him.
She longed to hear his warm, steady voice taking his oath to her. She eagerly desired to verbally acknowledge him, in front of all these witnesses, what her heart already knew; that she, Lisa Cuddy took him, Gregory House for her beloved husband, to have and to hold, to love, honor and cherish, to treasure, for all the rest of their days and nights together.
Cuddy stopped and stood in place only a few feet away. She reached forth her hand, wanting to touch him, to always be near him, to bind herself to him with a shining circle of gold that stood pale in comparison to the love for him that encircled her heart.
She saw him give an uncharacteristic grin and take her proffered hand. But instead of the usual current of kinetic energy that coursed through her at even so light a touch, she felt something foreign and resistant take hold of her hand.
As soon as she felt the solidity of his fingers clasping her own, the magic, silver, soap bubble in which she'd forgotten to breathe burst.
Cuddy drew a sharp breath as the world teetered on its axis. Everything within her line of sight suddenly became crisp and clear as if large, inked borders separated and defined flowers, trees, blades of grass, people, clouds and sky from one another.
Cuddy continued to hold her breath as she looked from the short, stubby hand that held hers up to the face and into her groom's watery eyes.
But they were entirely the wrong shade of blue.
Where was House? Why weren't his eyes gazing back unwaveringly into her own?
She felt the blood drain from her cheeks as she continued looking into Lucas' face, his features now marked with a quizzical expression.
No! This wasn't happening, couldn't be real.
Through a haze of panic and confusion, she heard the rabbi's methodical voice, barely audible above the beating of her terrified heart.
"And so, the covenant of marriage should never be entered into lightly. Only with the security of a deep, abiding, passionate love for each other, can two people even hope to make a life together as one. And so, although I am not usually called upon to ask this of the loved ones of any couple, today, more than ever, I ask if any of you knows just cause why these two should not now be joined in matrimony together, let them speak now or forever hold her peace."
Cuddy was staggered. The realization began to dawn on her that the rabbi's declaration and subsequent inquiry was not part of the planned ceremony.
Everything began to happen in slow motion once more as she saw Lucas' face register the rabbi's words. His features began to twist and harden as if he were holding his breath, just as she now was.
For as soon as Rabbi Beinstein had paused, a murmur rose up from the audience until a sharp voice overrode the rest, ringing in Cuddy's ears and brain as it had done for so many years.
"Lisa, for God's sake. Don't be an idiot!"