Amethyst Stone

He put the necklace around her neck and rotated it so the small amethyst stone fell flat on top of her chest. He stared at it, unable to formulate thoughts, caught in this timeless place. Her breathing was deep and he felt her heart rise and fall while his fingertips lingered momentarily on her skin. He loved this girl, no, woman, for so many years that having this day finally arrive felt otherworldly, like fiction.

There was a crowd of a hundred waiting in the capacious hall just outside. He looked into her eyes and saw fear, trepidation, yet, also, hope and elation. It reminded him of the raw feelings he concealed on his wedding day, and wanted to express such, but instead he pulled her forehead toward him and placed a tender kiss on it. “You’ll always be my daughter,” he told her, causing her to sigh and laugh at the same time, a exhalation of nervous relief. She told him, “Thanks, dad. I love you.”

The music began playing and they entered the hall in a slow, methodical walk. He couldn’t see her face behind the veil, but through her fingertips he could feel the reverberations of the gentle tear that proceeded down her cheek. Rows of heads turned to watch them approaching the altar and the handsome man waiting there to take her hand from his.

He knew this marriage wouldn’t last. He could see through the kilowatt smile and Bel Air refinement. He knew the true character of this man, a man who never had to work for anything in his life, so he’d probably not work at this, but for today, she was happier than he’d ever seen her since her mother died, and because of this, so was he.


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