He licked the taste of salt, a whisper of a tear, and listened to the music that ebbed through the church. A happy day syringed with the memory of one he would long to forget, but in the church surrounded by his friends, and his ‘family’ it was not bound to happen at any moment soon. The taste of salt, the lonesome tear on the precipice of his tongue and then simply forgotten.

What a beautiful voice, she thought, and looked ahead at her brother kneeling, holding his wife’s hand and staring intently ahead. She looked around and noticed for the first time that the music was coming from a male voice at the back of the church. How beautiful, how serene, and a tear formed, at the end of her eyes, daring to fall. Quickly she wiped it away, and smiled.

My son – a smile that was flooded with tears, a wet smile of pride. He looked ahead at his son, my beautiful son! He noticed for the first time the music, and placed it to a time of the past – to a moment that was not his and realising he turned around and saw his friend, his brother in-law, his head down to the floor and his face ashen and burdened with memories too grave to forget. He turned around once again, choosing to let his friend grieve in privacy and paid attention once more to his son, his son and his beautiful bride. My child.

Will it ever be me? Look at her, Snow White, with her black hair and porcelain skin. Snow white, and so calm is she. Will it ever be me? She felt the electricity of emotion in the room, the cackling, no idea as to why – a simple family friend. Earlier she had to wipe her own tears as the father of the groom and the groom himself had burst into tears – the bride, calm and calming. The sight of two grown men, strong and hidden normally in their emotions, suddenly with glistening eyes, well – it came, the tears to her eyes – but, will it ever be me?

Always she cries at weddings! He shook his head, and snickered at his wife. No matter who it was she would cry, and always – he thought, she would never bring enough tissue. Now she was sniffing and wiping her nose with the back of her hand. He shook his head, and embarrassed looked around. He glimpsed his sister in-law, sitting next to her husband who was staring proudly at the groom. His sister in-law who had her hands clenched and was nodding her head to the music. Why did they choose this, he wondered – knowing what memories it filtered through the elder generation in the church? Even he, himself, felt the chug of his heart, felt his emotions being toyed with. He looked down at his wife, finally understanding – this was different.

He laughed silently at his cousin who was standing in front of him. She was a bridesmaid in pale pink attire, fidgeting constantly in discomfort. He could not but help snicker. His girlfriend looked at him, curious – a blonde waif. Sweet but vacuous – oh, no drinking for me tonight he thought, dismayed! He ignored her looks and carried on laughing at his cousin, eventually she turned around and her look shut him up. Her eyes were pink, with restrained tears! He looked around, paying heed to his surroundings – to his uncles crying. The one silently, near the back, and the other staring proudly, tears of impression. He listened to the music and bowed his head.

Does she really, really love me? Thoughts running wildly through his head! Am I good enough for her, I mean – how can I make this special beautiful woman content. How can someone like this want to spend the rest of my life with me? Look at her – look at how stunning she is, how she radiates, how calm. I could kill for her, without a doubt, if she asked me I would do it, I would just ask how. God, I love you! And my parents, so proud, my father – is this right. Do I deserve this? Oh God!