I got married six months ago, but ever since then theres been something I cant shake off.
The wedding reception was held in a lovely gardenloud music, twinkling lights, everyone on their feet dancing. At one point, I stepped away from the main marquee for some fresh air. Thats when I spotted my closest mate, Edward, and my wife, Victoria, standing together off to the side near the loos. They werent having a casual chat. They were arguing.
Victorias hands moved anxiously, her gestures nervous and sharp. Edwards jaw was clenched, his face tense. I couldnt make out their words through the music, but the confrontation was undeniable.
I walked over quietly, careful not to draw their attention right away. Just as I got close enough, I heard Edward say, Were not talking about this again.
His voice was cold, almost cutting.
Thats when they noticed me. I asked what was going on and what theyd been discussing.
Both of them froze for a moment. Victoria recovered firstshe laughed it off, said it was nothing, just silly nonsense. Edward chipped in, claiming theyd got into it over a ridiculous bet during some gamehed suggested something, she hadnt wanted to, end of story. Their explanation was rushed, a jumbled mess with no real details.
They changed the subject immediately and hurried back to the marquee, pretending as if nothing had happened.
For the rest of that night, I tried my best to keep up the cheerful atmospheredancing, raising glasses, offering congratulations. But every time I passed them, they barely said a word to each other and made a show of avoiding each others gaze. They didnt exchange another sentence in my company for the whole evening.
I didnt mention anything that night.
Afterwards, married life rolled on. Victoria and I carried on, and our circle with Edward and his partner stayed much the samegatherings, birthdays, the usual sort of plans. No one ever brought up what happened that evening. There werent any odd messages, secretive phone calls, nothing obvious for me to question.
Except for that one moment.
But that moment has lingered. The exact words he spoke. The sharpness in his voice. The urgency of how they stopped talking when I appeared. The way they reactedalmost guilty, as if Id interrupted something I wasnt meant to hear.
I have no proof. No messages, no confessions, no row to point to. Just that row on my wedding day and the nagging suspicion I walked in on something significant.
Six months have passed, and I still find myself thinking about it. I havent accused anyone.
So now I ask myself:
What does one do with a suspicion like this, when youve nothing tangiblejust the sense that, on one of the happiest days of your life, something happened just out of sight?
Perhaps the lesson is this: Sometimes, uncertainty simply becomes part of ones story. You carry it, you wonder, but unless theres truth willing to step into the light, you must find peace in the not knowingand remember to let the present speak louder than your doubts.
