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3rd place winner in SCRIBBLER's September 2020 Dialogue Writing Contest  The day was perfect. The floral arrangements were crisp and gorgeous, the satin clothes that were draped over the pews had been delivered on time, all the bridesmaids fit into their dresses and not a single guest without an RSVP had shown up to the church. When Steve took his place at the altar, he smiled softly as the bright North Carolina sun shone through the stained glass windows, bathing the marble walls in a symphony of rainbow hues. These colors seemed to radiate off his beautiful Emma as he watched her walk down the aisle and take her place on the other side of the rose colored runner that she had hand-picked for her special day.
Aside from certain parts of his vows, Steve could not rightly remember what had been said in the few minutes they stood there. The priest officiating their wedding was not the one they had originally wanted, so his speech was uninspired and generic, something both bride and groom had agreed to not encumber them. All Steve remembers is that right as the priest was about to pronounce them man and wife, the church doors suddenly opened. They opened slowly due to their impressive size and weight, but they also opened loudly. Every head turned in confusion, including his own, but the sunlight that flooded in blinded everybody and it was a while before anyone could see who had the audacity to interrupt the ceremony. Steve was the last to see, but the first to hear. “Oh,” said the quietly familiar voice. Steve blinked a few more times before the figure at the threshold became visible, and he immediately felt his heart jump up to his throat. “Jemma?” Beside him, Emma tore her eyes from the person who would dare interrupt her wedding and focused them on the man she was about to wed. A few yards ahead of the couple, Jemma gave a half-hearted chuckle. “I’m so sorry,” she said, waving her arms awkwardly. “I’m in the wrong place.” Silence and confused blinks met her words, but Jemma ignored them, her eyes locked with Steve’s. She gave him the barest smile before ducking away and out of the church. Steve’s eyes lingered on the space Jemma had just vacated. Behind him, the priest cleared his throat. “Shall I proceed?” he asked. “Yes,” Emma said, her body already facing her groom. “You may proceed.” “I now pronounce you Husband and Wi--” “Wait.” Steve held up a hand.
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