Chapter 1
The April afternoon sunshine shone bright. The air was sweet with ripe blossoms' scent tinged with rejuvenating fresh cut grass. Winter's cold had gone a short distance away, but though the summer's heat had yet to come, the sun's rays gave tender, warm caresses to everything they touched. Bellowing beneath the picturesque scene, under the sparrows' melodies, a bell tolled from the steeple of a small chapel where an icy storm brewed within.
The ceremony was already running two hours late.
Chessa, the bride, a model of dazzling splendor sparkling from head to toe in her wedding day finery, more beautiful than any bride captured on the cover of a magazine, fumed silently as the tension grew with every minute that ticked by melting her smile into a rigid line across her face. By now, the reception should have been underway at the dance studio two blocks away where she and her groom, Luka, taught out of - which had been transformed into a posh banquet hall by family and close friends. Chessa's mother had designed, sewed, and beaded the gown weaving a captivating creation of ivory colored satin, chiffon, and tulle that twinkled with every move her daughter made. A few of Chessa and Luka's students made up the minimal bridal party - one of whom had also styled Chessa's platinum blonde hair into a chic half updo, and did her makeup emphasizing her grey eyes and high cheekbones. Luka's mother had made Luka's and the two groomsmen's boutonnières, and arranged the bridesmaids' bouquets. They, along with Chessa herself, had stayed until well after midnight arranging decor of rose gold and champagne tones with an abundance of peach and cream-colored roses. The rigid line on Chessa's face grew thinner, the grip on her bridal bouquet grew tighter, and her breathing became measured as if to quell the flames threatening to scorch her composure. The middle-aged lawyer acting as the wedding officiant who had been ignored when offering words of encouragement was now met with a livid glare that trapped her words in her throat and left her frozen with her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape where she stood at the altar of the chapel. She then turned her head slowly towards Luka who sat squirming and wringing his hands in the front pew with the hardened look still etched on her face. Luka's eyes were locked on his phone while his mother's hands rested tenderly on his arm and shoulder. She raised her eyes to give Chessa a cautionary glance which only fanned the flames of her anger.
"This is his fault!" Chessa fumed, watching Luka squirm in his seat. "He should have held on to the rings like he was fucking supposed to!"
Meanwhile, Luka's mind was consumed with vehemently wishing he could disappear into oblivion. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to do this, but he didn't have a choice.
The hometown he had left behind was reduced to rubble and ash, and returning to a country steeped in civil unrest and tyranny meant certain death for "deserters" like him in the eyes of the corrupt law. His only other option was a marriage to the woman who wasn't the woman he first met anymore. Chessa was once the crown jewel and object of affection of many of the fellow instructors and teenage boys at the prestigious dance academy in Dubai where they moved to from their home country before it fell to domestic tyranny, and where she and Luka had taught just two years ago before deciding to move to the States together to start fresh. It was the promise of a life to be lived in peace and harmony; of overcoming every obstacle hand-in-hand. Until the very same woman - who had captured his heart with her ethereal beauty and razor-sharp mind, who had been the best dance partner he had ever had, who became his true and dearest friend in a devastating time of crisis, and who had broken through every part of him in such profound ways that no one ever had before. The very same woman who was now looking at him with poison enough to kill him right where he sat.
Continued in Chapter 2
