And the bravest of souls
Are those who choose love.

Over and over.
-e. corona ____________________________________________________________________________
'Wake up!!' Eliza shakes me awake.

'What's wrong? Let me sleep.' I slap her hand and turn away. I barely slept a wink at night.

'Wrong? It's your wedding day. You need to start getting ready. It's already ten!'

'The ceremony is at five. There are SEVEN whole hours. Let me finish my sleep.'

Her footsteps recede as she goes away muttering angrily. I really didn't care about this whole wedding thing. It was another task I was doing. Maybe this way they would finally think I'm happy and I would get some peace. I wouldn't be under their constant scrutiny, and the few times we meet I could act all smiles. Seeing me happy my parents would be happy. Right now they are the only people who matter.

After lazing around for another half hour, I wake up. I have no idea why I had decided to take the plunge into uncharted waters, but now that I have there is no going back.

'Sleeping beauty is awake!' Ziyan yells as soon as he spots me. The house is abuzz with activity. There seems to be an aura of happiness around. Unfortunately, I'm the only person it doesn't surround.

Mamma makes her way towards me and kisses me on my forehead. 'How are you?' She asks concern lacing her voice as her eyes search mine for signs of hesitation.

'I'm okay.' I respond truthfully.

I am always okay never fine. 'Just get over with this.'

'Your appointment at the salon is at two. Ziyan is driving you there.'

'Why Ziyan? I can drive myself. He can do something else.' I say. I look at the mess in our living room, boxes filled with decoration, all types of cutlery, strands of entangled lights. Plenty of work still remaining to get done.

'Take Eliza along with you. She wanted to get her hair done.'

'Sure.'

I had asked them to pick whatever they liked, and I would wear it. The only condition was it should not scream, wedding dress. Something simple yet elegant. I didn't know what my wedding dress was. Sadly, I didn't care either.

The wedding ceremony was to be extremely small with only immediate family members. Nobody cared as long as I got married and said yes at the altar. If I wished they would have made it an extravagant affair but they respected my choice by keeping it small.

I successfully avoid most of my family and am out of the house by twelve with Eliza in the passenger seat of my Ford. My family wrongly assumes I'm leaving early for my appointment. Instead, I drive towards corniche, Eliza being weak with directions doesn't realize until we've reached and I step out into the bright sun parking at a prime spot right in front. Of course, who would come to the beach at noon?

'Zara! This is ridiculous what are we doing here?', Eliza is hysterical.

'I am enjoying the beach, you can do whatever you like.' I slip my sandals off and walk barefoot, my feet leaving impressions on the soft, moist sand. My toes sink into the sand enjoying the grainy texture. I stop just before the waves as they crash against my feet. Huge ripples caressing the surface of the mighty ocean.

'We are supposed to be at the salon!'

I tune Eliza out, my eyes on the ocean beyond. It extends as far as I can see. A disturbed sheet of blue. The ocean seems to be in a turmoil, one wave crashes, and the next nearly overlaps the first. Leaping and bounding they crash against the shore, spraying my feet with salty water. The waves keep coming without a pause. A continuous never-ending turmoil.

Just like my life.

What changes is this event going to catalyze in my life? What wave is this tiny ripple going to trigger? I toss these useless thoughts aside before I lose the fabricated calm I have built. I look at the relentless blue of the ocean meeting the relentless blue of the sky. The ocean a shade darker than the cloudless sky. I pace my breaths according to the waves, inhaling the briny smell, the sea being my only focus of attention.

The sun mercilessly beats down on us. Well me. Eliza is sitting in the car, stonily staring at me. As if it's her wedding!

At my own sweet pace I return to the car, we reach thirty minutes late for the appointment. Eliza grabs a hanger from the back seat covered in plastic just as I'm about to lock the car shooting me a murderous glare. Oh right, the dress. Totally forgot about that.

When we enter, the beautician, Eva I note is annoyed that she has thirty minutes less to dress me up.

'I'm sorry Eva.' I say with an apologetic smile once I'm seated in front of her 'I don't need much time, you only need to make me look presentable, not beautiful.'

She responds with a snort.

I close my eyes for the next hour letting her do whatever she wishes to. I imagine her making me look hideous and Maaz calling off the marriage because I'm too ugly. The thought considerably cheers me up.

'Wear the dress then the stylist will do your hair.' says Eva after an hour of prodding and poking my face. I open my eyes and find my sister already wearing hers. Her maroon gown is made of sheer net, a strip of silver cinched at her waist. The dark red brings out her complexion making her look pale, her dark make up enhancing her face. Her liner is thick, highlighting her eyes, making them look bigger. She is wearing a single teardrop ruby around her neck and matching earrings, the stylist is working at her hair.

'You look pretty.' I say, and she smiles back at me.

I head into the changing room and gasp, hanging there is a gorgeous gown. It's a pale pink sleeveless flowing silk gown. A full sleeved intricately patterned overcoat of pastel green lace is to be paired with it. A single strand of milky white pearls hangs around the waist from where the gown flows into numerous soft folds.

Simple yet elegant.

As soon as I emerge, Eliza pulls me into a hug.

'I'm glad you liked it.' she says without me saying anything at all.

Two hours later we both are dolled up. My long, black hair pulled up into a delicate bun with few curls left hanging. I wear matching pearl jewellry, and we are finally ready to go. After thanking Eva, we leave.

4:30 pm. Last thirty minutes before I'm bound. I drive straight home.

'You must be the only bride to drive in her wedding dress.' Eliza says, opening the door for me while I struggle to put on the heels I had discarded while driving. We hurry in from the back entrance.

Eliza fidgets with the folds of my dress then adjusts the overcoat. She checks for stray hair and gives my face a final touch.

'You are late.' Ziyan accuses as soon as he spots us. 'Everyone is here. Including him obviously.' He says glancing at me, gauging my reaction.

'Yeah, just give me a minute, I'll be right there.' I'm heading into my room when mama catches up with me.

'Zara, we need to go outside. All the guests are on the lawn for the ceremony.'

'Alright.' I mutter, and mama slips her hand into mine. Dad is waiting in the corridor and he joins us. I get the feeling of being taken to the gallows.

'Stop!' Eliza comes rushing from our room and hands me a silver ring with a sapphire set at the centre.

'You forgot to wear your ring.' She cries. Ah, the engagement ring. She slips it on my finger, and we finally move.

Merry voices, glasses clinking and laughter echoes into our drawing room from the lawn beyond. Fairy lights adorn the perimeter, garlanded around the trees and walls of our house. Guests are seated on rows of chairs with red bows tied to them. The voices hush upon our entrance.

All eyes turn towards us. Me, I believe. So many people staring at me makes me take an involuntary step back. Dad places his hand on my back urging me forward. A silent indication he's there.

A small arch has been made near the pool. A white arch spotted with red. Lilies entwined with roses twirl around it. The arch leads to a canopy, four wooden beams have been erected, circled with golden fairy lights. The lights extend across the beams making a cover for the set up underneath. Artfully carved beneath the overhang are the initials Z & M. A shimmering glow falls upon the couch arranged under it. That is not what stops my breath.

Standing before the couch is a man wearing a tux. I stare at the pointy tips of his shoes. My eyes travel up taking in his comfortable stance, legs slightly apart. I see his hands close and then open. Nervous?

He cuts a striking figure in his tux. He is wearing a pink tie, the same pale pink as my dress. His face is striking in the black tux. Angular cheekbones, eyes glistening with reflected fairy lights, lips slightly parted. It looks like a scene out of someone else's life.

A handsome man waiting for his bride.

It is when his eyes meet mine that I begin to sweat. The lights seem to make his eyes sparkle, illuminating the blue. My steps falter, mama grips my hand taking me forward. The eyes of the small gathering of friends and relatives stay on me.

The walk to him seems infinite. I train my gaze to my feet hidden behind the folds of my gown. I focus on putting one foot in front of the other. That itself is a big deal with the death traps Eliza has bought for me. Sure, it's pretty to look at and will make me look as tall as him, or so Eliza claims but I'd prefer comfort.

When I reach the arch, I'm afraid he'd reach out for me. Thankfully, he doesn't, though I can always feel his eyes on me. I attempt a smile at his father and Ira who stand beside him. Ira hugs me and whispers, 'Beautiful !'.

I'm seated on the couch beside him. My fingers interlock with each other. Nervously I fidget with my hands. Dad and mom sit on the adjacent couch facing his dad and Ira. The guests take their seats.

I'm in a daze.

My mind seems to have been wiped out. It is better this way. If I would be thinking at all, then I'd bolt from here.

I look at my dad, his happy smile as he converses with mama who has a gentle smile of her own. For their happiness, I convince myself.

All too soon, papers are produced in front of him. Through the buzzing in my head I hear the words 'Yes, I do.' he says, swiftly signing wherever indicated.

My life sentence.

Only when my dad touches my knee, I realize I've been asked a question,'Yes.' I whisper. The word dragged from my mouth.

I stare blankly at the paper in front of me, tears clouding my vision. His hand brushes against me as he hands me his pen. I clutch tightly to it, my other hand folding into a fist under the folds of my dress.

Subtly, without anyone noticing he slips his hand beneath my dress, caressing my hand. A shiver runs through me. Gently he unclenches it, interlocking his hand with mine. My cold, sweaty hands in his warm, callused ones. I take a deep breath. My hand moves across the paper, accepting my life sentence.

***