By Archie D.

After the ceremony, everyone went back to the terrace to drink and congratulate the couple. I managed to find Henry and pulled him aside, sitting him down at the bench I had slept upon not an hour earlier.

”First, I need to express my concern to you that you may have just made a grave mistake.” My face showed no sign of comedic intent.

”I don’t quite understand.” Henry looked confused. He had just married, and this was the happiest moment of his life. How could he have made a mistake?

”This woman might not be faithful to you in the purest extent. Her expression of kindness and beauty could drive any man insane with desire, and I am not sure that she is the kind to walk away from a handsome fellow that has fallen madly in love with her, even if she is here wedded.”

”Preposterous! I considered you a friend, not a critic of my own decisions! Your overlooming parental judgment is not the controlling factor of my life. As always, you act like I am a child that needs discipline, not a grown adult that can do things for himself!” His face had grown red hot with rage.

”I am simply expressing my worries, for the purpose of informing you with knowledge that you may not have gathered from your point of view. As the husband of a beautiful woman, you may not know what she says to other men when you are not within distance.” 

“What did she say for you to make such presumptuous claims!?”

I did not have a good reply for this inquiry, for I had somewhat based it off of personal whim.

”I don’t…” I could not just say ‘I had a feeling,’ but that is truly what I had, so I have no way of telling my reason. “I don’t quite know.” Without saying a word, Henry got up and walked away, evidently to find some people that were happy for him. The conversation I had just had was one of my biggest blunders of the day, and it only got worse. Instead of being a considerate friend and running after Henry to apologize, I stayed there, motionless, wordless. Something came over me that I hadn’t known to exist inside me before. A sort of evilness, but with the want to wash it away. So I rose from the bench, making quick strides across the lawn to avoid the crowd surrounding Elizabeth and Henry. I found the liquor table and began to drink.

. . .

The sun had sunk into the horizon and the moon had risen from its slumber, shining full and bright. That, however, had not affected the party that had been joyously continuing throughout the evening. At this point, I was filthy drunk, and hadn’t talked to anyone since my argument with Henry. I had stayed around the liquor table, downing bottle after bottle and taking multiple trips to and fro across the lawn to the bathhouse. But I was not the only one. Elizabeth had been drinking copious amounts of wine, and Henry had gone inside to the kitchen after realizing that we had run out of finger sandwiches. I was standing by the table, sipping a delicious ale when Elizabeth grabbed my arm and started running towards the far side of the terrace, almost dragging me behind her. It was obvious that both of us were severely intoxicated, but no one seemed to notice a strange man running off with the bride. We reached the stone steps leading down to the pond, both staggering down and splitting our sides with laughter for no apparent reason. As we came upon the gravel walkway that ran a ring around the water, Elizabeth, to my astonishment, jumped into the pond, bridal gown and all. 

”Come and join me for a swim!” She was still laughing. I gave no response, only standing on the shore, dumbfounded by her invitation. She seemed to glide through the water, swimming in a rather suggestive manner. She started swimming circles in the middle of the pond, but then she suddenly stopped. Something seemed wrong, she was struggling to swim. Her laughter suddenly became gargles of water.

”Help! Please! My gown is caught!” Her voice was panicked and followed by coughs as she struggled to free herself. My first instinct was to jump in and save her, but then I thought about it. Maybe I shouldn’t save her. After all, my friend would benefit from not having an unfaithful wife. So I stood, standing on the banks of the pond, staring, watching her drown. In my drunken haze I thought that this was a good decision, and now that I am sober, I cannot fault myself. Sure it might have been extreme, but that is just the length you have to go to save your friend. I left the party immediately, mounting my steed without a glance back. 

About a week after my decision, which some might call radical and murderous, I fell into a trance where my own mind was having a civil war. I had been having terrible headaches and a persistent cough, and it only worsened after I saw in the Sunday paper that they had discovered the body. It said that the police were to perform an autopsy to see if she had been murdered or drowned of her own accord, but I was frightened all the same. It also read that Henry was heartbroken and had gone into solitude, not leaving his house for six days straight. I felt a droplet of guilt trickle into my mind. I pushed it away, for I knew I had done nothing wrong. To give myself some solace from the news, I decided to take a walk into town. 

As I walked, that same guilt kept returning, this time in tidal waves that could not be kept out. The dam broke, and I started to weep, although I knew not why. I continued my walk of sorrow, tears streaming down my face, overflowing my palms and turning the dirt below to mud. I could hear snickers and mutters of confusion from the bystanders, and I longed to explain that I hadn’t a reason to weep, but I couldn’t. For a moment, I lifted my head, and through my blurry vision, saw an incredibly beautiful carriage stop next to me on the street, drawn by four handsome steeds. The driver hopped down from the box seat and opened the door, letting a familiar figure step out onto the stone path. Wiping my eyes dry so that I confirmed that my vision did not fool me, I could see that it was Henry. He was wearing a brand new suit, a golden cane, a silk scarf, but most of all, he was wearing a beaming face. I was flabbergasted.

”Ah! My dear friend!” He looked perfectly normal, in fact, quite better than normal. “How have you been? You look down.”

”Henry… I’m… not sure how to-“ I was choking on my words.

“Don’t fret over it. I have always considered you a friend, and everything turned out the way it should have. I knew I could trust you to do the predictable, whether right or wrong. Sometimes another’s misfortune is the path to a fortune.” And with that, he turned and got back into the coach without saying another word. My sobbing had ceased, and my head had raised to its fullest extent. A smile broke my lips. Neither of us were sad, for neither of us had a reason to be. And as for poor Elizabeth, it is a cruel world full of idiots and tyrants, and she happened to meet two of them.