She is radiant in her white tulle fog, eyes wide with love and expectation, trust and openness. He is stiffly pressed, nervous but beaming with pride, adoration and love with a side of lust. They face each other and take a deep breath, ready to make the ultimate commitment. There is a hush in the crowd as he starts to speak. "I promise to never pull the trigger." She hands him a shiny revolver with a tear in her eye and the widest smile as she hears his words of promise. Shakily and with a nervous hand she extends her hand and takes a matching revolver from his outstretched hand and says "I promise to never pull the trigger." He fights back the emotion as he beams at his beloved. They holster their weapons and embrace as the crowd exchanges smiles and applauds enthusiastically. Now there will be cake and dancing.
"I love you, you are my world," she says sweetly, as she lays her head on his shoulder and gazes at him adoringly. "I love you too, my angel." They share a sweet kiss and she sighs and snuggles closer into his embrace. A man walks by whistling a funny tune. She looks at the man and giggles. With one smooth motion her love draws his revolver, aims at her and fires. Her eyes register confusion before they go blank and she crumples to the ground, wounded and bleeding. He smiles a satisfied smile and walks away.
Hours later he comes back, gathers her in his arms and tries to wake her. She opens one eye and looks at him with pain and fear. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what I was doing, I over reacted. Please, I didn't mean to hurt you. Please forgive me." She stares at him for a long time and finally breathes "it's okay." She starts to sit up and wipe at the blood on her face. He watches her closely. She looks down at the gaping hole in her flesh and then at the love of her life and the pain reflects in her face. She picks up the revolver and hides it from him. He snorts in disgust. She packs the wound tightly, covers it over with fresh clothes and it is on longer visible. She tries to get up. She falls. He watches. She cleans more blood off her arm and her chest. He paces in frustration. She gets on her knees and straightens her clothes. He explodes "What is WRONG with you? Why does it take you so damn long to recover? My GOD, how are we ever going to get back to life if you keep sitting there?" She grits her teeth and stands, shaking and bruised. She swallows back the tears and smiles. She looks at her love and embraces him with fervor, ignoring the pain that remains from the wounds. He holds her tightly. She steps back and pulls the revolver from behind her back and lays it in his outstretched hand. "I know you will never use it again." He earnestly vows "Never. I will do everything in my power to keep my finger off the trigger." She smiles adoringly at his fervent face and rests her cheek on his chest. He pockets the revolver.
