A Paula Wilson Short Story
The wedding party was in full swing. The wedding breakfast was served, speeches were given, gifts were exchanged, and Paula and I shared the first dance.
We were Mr and Mrs Charles Wilson. It sounded very good. I had just married the most gorgeous woman in the world, and I was pumped.
Now we retired to change into our evening clothes, except that instead of changing together, we returned to the single rooms we had occupied on the last night of us being bachelors.
The rooms were at the back of the hotel, and although they were separated, they shared a veranda. I changed quickly with the intention of surprising Paula while she was still in her wedding dress. You can guess what I had in mind; I wanted to consummate the wedding while Paula was still wearing her wedding dress.
I was about to slip out onto the veranda when I realised that somebody was already there. I stepped back, and then, fearful that whoever was there was up to mischief, I glanced back down the veranda.
Even in the relative shadows given off by the building, the stranger, who was obviously male, was tall and muscular. As I watched, he tapped on the window to Paula's room. There was a blaze of light as the curtains were drawn back, and then the glass door slid open.
"What are you doing here?" I heard Paula say. She kept her voice low, but in the silence of the evening, her words clearly reached me.
"Let me in, and I'll tell you?" The male voice replied.
"I can't; this is my wedding day, stupid!" Paula protested.
"I know, that's why I wanted to see you."
"Well, you're too late. The wedding ceremony is over. I'm Mrs. Paula Wilson now. See, here's my ring."
"Very nice, but I still want to see you." The stranger persisted.
"It's over between us, and it has been for two years. Why don't you ever understand that simple fact?" Paula responded, her voice sounding edgy. The laughter of a few minutes earlier had disappeared.
He registered now. Before I'd met Paula, she'd been going with a low life named Jeff Johnson. When Paula and I had first been an item, he'd still been hanging around and had made himself a real nuisance. He was also a six-foot-plus bruiser, and I'd been relieved when suddenly he stopped calling.
I have never been an action man, and Jeff had a reputation for settling disagreements with his fists. I should have made an appearance, but I held back.
Now he was back, but he was too late to stop Paula from becoming my wife.
"If it's over, why did we fuck only last week?" Jeff asked in a calm voice.
At first, I thought that I'd misheard him. They had fucked only last week? I had not been in town the week prior to our wedding. I'd had a bachelor week with my closest buddies. No, I'd definitely misheard him. I could not believe that Paula had cheated on me, not so near to our wedding.
"I was drunk; you took advantage." Paula retorted.
"Sure, like you're drunk every time we fuck, like you're drunk now." He laughed.
"You are not doing me on my wedding day!" Paula snapped. "This is my day, my special day."
"I always wanted to fuck a bride still on her wedding day; this is going to be my lucky night." He chuckled. "Now stand aside and let me in." He ordered.
I was still reeling. Jeff was more than implying that his relationship with Paula hadn't finished when she'd met me. Paula, my Paula, the sweet-looking, blue-eyed librarian, had been carrying on an affair all the time we'd been together. She had not let me do her for almost two months, something I regarded as her reverence for our relationship.
I had never suspected that she had been seeing anyone else, much less her old lover.
As I watched, Jeff stepped inside. The curtains were drawn across, but a thin shaft of light still illuminated the veranda. I crept along the veranda until I could see through into Paula's bedroom.
It was a pretty low thing to do, but I felt justified. If Paula had been carrying on an affair, then I had the right to know; I was now her husband, after all.
They were standing in the centre of the room. Paula was still wearing her wedding dress, although the veil had been removed. She looked fantastic in the pure white dress, with her pale but perfect complexion, blonde hair tied in curls about her head, and a posy of small flowers stitched into her hair.
Jeff was wearing faded pale jeans and an equally worn T-shirt. He was not exactly dirty, but he did look as if he'd just come from work.
"You look real pretty," Jeff said as he stroked Paula's bare arm. She didn't stop him as his hand reached her shoulder strap. He hooked his finger inside the strap and pulled it off her shoulder.
