Short story


The grand piano plays a daunting crescendo as you step onto the altar. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You’ve been waiting such a long time for this.

The priest proclaims, “Should anyone here present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Your soon-to-be-spouse smiles at you and you wonder how someone can look so much like an angel under the hazy glow of sunlight. You run a hand through your hair and will the priest to get on to the vows, eager to finally wed your one true love.

Suddenly, the chapel doors burst open. Startled, you nearly jump out of your skin. Your family and friends gasp and shocked whispers ripple through the crowd.

Dressed in a nondescript outfit of a white tee and blue jeans is your fiancé’s brother.

A thin layer of moisture shines on his forehead, messy auburn hair hanging over his eyes. He surveys the unbelieving audience of your wedding, and somewhere in the background you hear a wineglass shatter. The light, joyous atmosphere just a few seconds prior is gone, replaced with a silence so heavy it seems oppressive. Your fiancé sucks in a breath and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, they are filled with tears.

“Please, no,” she whispers, her voice cracking on the last syllable.

Her brother’s gaze pierces you and suddenly you feel like there’s no one else in the chapel.

“I object.”

Chua Wei Ting


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