Our Eternal Dance

November 4th. The autumn showers are hard at work, washing away the remnants of summer and what would have been our wedding.

It's bitter. The aftertaste lingered on the tip of my tongue longer than usual. I did take a little extra today. Will I be able to see you again?

The rain pouring against the house sounded like a lullaby, soothing my heightened senses—the perfect weather to curl up on the couch surrounded by withering peonies. The dark skies felt like the gloominess I seeped into these peonies was corroding the outside world.

Are you morning for me? I ask the dreary sky as rain pellets cascade down the windows. Amidst the melody of the rain, a soft tapping merged like a secret whisper of the storm. The whisper grew more insistent as if it wanted my attention.

Giving in, I turn my gaze toward the noise. There, against the glass, were white butterflies adorned with intricate black markings. The butterflies fluttered their wings as if beckoning me.

Are you calling for me, my love?

Without hesitation, I flung open the front door and ran outside into the surging storm. The butterflies took flight, and I chased behind as if I didn't know where they were leading me.

My bare feet worked against the current of the water sliding down the hill. My body pushed against the weight of the rain seeping into my clothes, uphill toward the bridge's entrance.

And there she was amidst the fog, dancing to the sound of the rain on the wet cobblestones that witnessed her last breath. Her long auburn hair and white dress, untouched by the rain, shimmered with a life of its own like the day I first met her–my fiancé.

Like always, I stood breathless with my feet planted in the puddles at the bridge's entrance–only able to take in the vision of the ethereal beauty in white from afar. A step closer, she dissipates into the fog. But then, a gentle tug diverts my attention from her. The butterflies tugged at my clothes as if ushering me to take another step.

What if she disappears?

As if they heard my fears, the butterflies gathered behind me and pushed me forward. I squeezed my eyes tight, trying to capture her graceful image like it was the last time. I stood on the bridge for the first time since the day my fiancé was taken from me. The wings of the butterflies brush my face as if coercing me to open my eyes.

Praying the rain didn’t wash her away, I pry my eyes open, trusting the butterflies that lead me here. A path like a bridal aisle appeared before me, leading to the unwavering woman. The butterflies took flight like a gust of wind swirling around me and transforming my clothes into the tuxedo my fiancé had chosen for our wedding.

As I approached her, the butterflies settled on her pristine white dress. My heart swelled at the recognition that she was wearing her white wedding dress with black interactive designs. The same one hung in our closet, buried away from my eyes. Tears streamed down my cheeks, unable to say a word.

She stopped dancing and smiled at me, extending her hand. "May I have this dance?" she asked, her voice like an enchanting melody in the rain. My trembling hand clung to hers, making sure she would not disappear again before my eyes.

Yes, a billion times over.

The moment I took her hand in mine, the world seemed to shift. The rain that chilled me to the bone now felt like warm drops of sunlight, as if each raindrop had evaporated, leaving me feeling light and warm. We waltz as if intertwined to the rhythm of the rain in synchronized steps.

We danced on the cobblestones where she took her last breaths; flowers erupted from the wet cobbles beneath our feet. Peonies, delicate and fragrant, sprang up in vibrant hues wherever we stepped.

"Do you remember these?" she asked, her voice both playful and melancholic.

I chuckled through tears, "How could I forget our wedding peonies?"

Her smile brightened, lighting me up with a warm fuzzy tingling. "I love you," I say with a shaky breath as tears burst through again. I love you. I love you. I love you. So please don't leave me again.

She wrapped her arms around my trembling body and whispered, "I love you too." Her sweet voice melted away my pain and longing as if she had cast a spell on me.

Her cheeks felt warm against the palms of my hand. I placed my forehead against hers and asked, "May I kiss the bride?"

She beamed in her response, "May I kiss the groom?"

Of course, you would respond with a question.

Before our lips could meet, a car zipped by, blaring its horns on the bridge and crumbling the enchantment like a fragile dream before me. A car again took her away from me like on that rainy day two months ago.

No, no, no. Please take me with you, my love. Please. I ran around the bridge surrounded by fog under the rain, looking for her as I danced around the cars driving by. The weight of the raindrops on my body returned as my heart ached.

I dug into my pockets and found the last bit of elixir in the blotting paper. Just a little more, enough to see her a little longer. I drown myself in my lies and let the mixture melt on my tongue– used to the bitter taste.

And then, as if someone answered my prayers, she stood perched on the bridge's ledge, her smile unchanged. It felt like the air entered my lungs for the first time. She reached her hand out once more, an invitation that needed no words. My body moved without a second thought. Our lips locked the moment I stood next to her, holding her close to me.

"Wife, may I have this dance?" I asked.

She whispered, "For an eternity."

We began to dance again, two souls entwined in a timeless waltz, serenaded by the distance wail of sirens, a final reminder of the world we left behind on our wedding day.