Angst. Two-part drabble.
You stare at the man in black standing still at the front of the church (there is no fear of being caught) while everyone else stares at the woman in white walking forward from the back. You watch as his eyes flit from you to her and back again (and this time they stay); you hold his gaze bravely, almost in a challenge. You know he realizes his mistake (he realized a long time ago), but you wonder if he will right this wrong or push it aside because it’s the easier thing to do (like all those times before).
You keep your gaze fixed on him as he takes her hand and turns his back to the crowd, to you (you receive that message loud and clear). You want to yell out coward! and worse during their vows (so everyone will know his lies) but you remain silent, even when the priest asks for any objections; it is his decision and you refuse to make it for him. You lose sight of him though nothing blocks your view (nothing but the tears burning your eyes) as you imagine a desperate wait! to replace the cold silence filling your heart.