Stephanie knocked on door 217 and waited. She straightened the silky blue dress that flowed down her body. She had been pleasantly surprised by Elaine's choice of bridesmaids' gown. Not the gawdy thing she expected at all. The strap looping around her neck was a nice touch. It matched her hair ribbon, while letting her neck and chest breathe. Not all of the bridesmaids could pull off the look, but Stephanie had worked hard to lose the last few stubborn pounds. She was Maid of Honour after all.
Matron of Honour technically; it sounded way too old fashioned for Stephanie's 26 years. A little tight around her breasts, the weight clearly hadn't come from there. She adjusted her strapless bra and took a deep breath. Construction workers cat-calling her all the way over; it wasn't often the bridesmaid outdid the bride. She restrained her smirk. Now wasn't the time for smiling. She rapped the door much harder. It was no way to treat expertly manicured skin.
"Bro! Everything alright? What's going on in there?"
Did he even know how difficult it was for her to cross from the church to the hotel in high-heels? Not to mention the reassuring words she had to give the anxious bride as she sat in a Rolls-Royce outside the church. It was funny; there was nothing in the little bridesmaid booklet about that.
"Go away!" came his sorry voice.
Stephanie checked the time on her phone. Things were getting desperate. She knew, however, that she had to remain calm.
"Dan," she said in a soft tone. "I'm coming in."
She wasn't going to wait any longer. She took out the key card that Gary - the best man - had given her and slid it into the electronic lock. He had wanted to come along, but Steph felt it better to go alone. Gary had reluctantly accepted -- her pouting face helping no doubt. She eased down the handle and made her way inside. The heavy door sucked shut behind her. The room was a standard affair. Bathroom on the left; closet on the right; a depressed man sitting on the edge of a king sized bed. He was fully suited which was a relief. Oblivious to her steps, he gazed longingly out the window.
"Dan, come on! We have to go. She's waiting for you."
"You look nice," he said, turning back to the window. "I can see the steeple from here."
It was the distant, childlike way in which he spoke that alarmed Stephanie the most. She had hoped it was just cold feet, but this was something different. It was as if he was suffering something akin to shell shock.
"Yes, I know...You're supposed to be over there right now."
She lay her hands on his shoulders and leaned down. Another good call from Elaine, his navy blazer fitted perfectly. Not many men could pull off baldness the way her brother could. Steph was sure it was the combination of his strong jawline that gave him a commanding presence that some women found alluring.
"Come. Let's go together."
"I can't, Steph."
Keeping her composure, she sat down beside him. He seemed to respond to her distinctly soft touch.
"Can you feel it?" she said, pressing his fingers against her wedding band.
She ignored the large amount of leg that had been revealed through the slit in her dress. It would look strange if she suddenly uncrossed them again.
"I only found out much later, but Mike was nervous too. We all are, bro. I mean it's perfectly normal to have reservations when the big day finally arrives."
Steph gazed out the window as she spoke.
"I mean, is Mike the perfect man for me? I don't know? But sometimes we have to do what's expected. What's right. I know I'm a good wife, and I can't wait to start a family of my own. I'm sure Elaine feels the same way. There's a thought! Think how cool it would be if we did it together?"
"You smell nice too."
She beamed her excited smile. Her words seemed to have ignited something in him. She took his hand from her thigh and squeezed.
"So, you'll come back with me?"
Her heart sank on seeing his blank expression return. She struggled to suppress the rising panic deep in her chest. She looked around the room for something - anything. Dialling in on the vintage minibar, she unscrewed the little whiskey bottle and brought it back to her patient.
"It's just nerves. Drink up. It'll help."
His halting palm wasn't a good sign.
"I've had two already. Anymore and I'll be drunk."
She would have taken drunk at that stage if it meant getting him up the aisle. Her gown's tightness made it difficult to sigh away the stress. Unable to take any more of the constant vibrations, she tossed her phone on the bed.
"Ah! See? You do care after all. You don't want to be drunk for your wedding."
"Maybe I want to be sober enough to get the hell away from here."
Shuffling back to the minibar, she stared at her adorned features in the whiskey sponsored mirror. The wood was cool against her palms. 'So pretty, Steph, and all for nothing.' Dark, silky curls hung exactly where the rollers had left them. Silver earrings sparkled as they dangled. Her makeup gave her face a renewed glow. She didn't know how much longer it'd last as tears welled in her eyes. So much effort and now her day was going to be ruined. No, Elaine's...Elaine's day. Movement brought hope that he'd finally come to his senses.
"Dan?"
Rough hands ran up her body as lips wet her neck. Pressing himself against her, fear replaced hope.
"Dan! What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"Come on, Steph," came his liquor infused breath. "God you look so fucking good!"
Flailing hands accidentally glanced something hard. Her bare arms feeling the squeeze of his embrace, she did well to spin around. Face to face, his slobbery lips fell onto hers. She felt her dress being lifted for clawing fingers. She struggled to bring her hands to his chest. Despite the assault, she found herself being acutely aware of her fingernails. They'd do serious damage to his waistcoat. The photos would be ruined. Still, it was all she could do to get some space between them. Being driven back against the cabinet sparked some inner fight. She was much weaker than him, and her hands were hopelessly soft. The snap of the slap filled the room as a red-faced Dan stumbled backwards. He cradled his injured jaw and sat sheepishly on the bed.
"What have I...What the fuck is happening to me?" he said, holding his head in his hands.
Panting hard and fixing her dishevelled dress, Stephanie was trying to figure out the same thing. She stared at the door and thought about making a run for it. The buzzing phone on the bed was drowned out by clanging church bells. Neither did her heart any good. The crease in his pants beginning to shrink, at least her attacker was calming.
"Ok, Ok. It's all good. Everything is fine, Dan. You're nervous, that's all. You're not yourself...Was that tobacco I tasted? Since when do you smoke?"
