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Every step Jekyll took down the aisle was painfully calculated. He dared not turn his head to the pews on either side of him, as to not catch any of the guest’s glances. His behavior as of late had been so erratic and odd, and he had only recently been able to re-emerge into polite society. He knew some of them were judging him. Until now Jekyll thought they had no reason, no right, to do so.
During his period of isolation, Henry had treated Emma so poorly, but he couldn’t even say she was the sole or truest victim of his private sufferings. He had been so short with her. He shouted at her. Like all couples, they had their bickerings and their fights, but Henry had never once raised his voice at her. After that, Emma had respected his privacy, but in his addled mind, Henry assumed she loathed to ever see him again. But when he first saw her after he could leave his laboratory, when she flung her arms around him, showering him with words of love, he knew she only wished the best for him.
That’s why he was so terrified. Jekyll loved Emma more than he could put into words. He had written hundreds upon thousands of words on dense academia and scientific theories that no one but him could fully understand, but if asked to put his sentiments to words, pen and paper alone would never even begin to capture the sheer, overwhelming magnitude of his feelings. What he had done, it was a betrayal.
Against his selfishly better judgment, and many restless nights of achingly mulling it over in the two weeks leading up to the wedding, Jekyll had to tell Emma the truth. What he had done, what he had become. It would make a rather grim wedding night confession, but she had the right to know. And if she turned on him, so be it. If anything, that was the fate he deserved. The only thing that gave him peace of mind despite all that, neither of them had any cause for worry. Jekyll had killed his other self.
Nervously, as he reached the end of the aisle, his eyes moved over to John, standing by and ready to fulfill his duties as the best man. John returned him a gentle smile before glancing over Henry’s shoulder. Slowly, he looked back as well.
The air was struck from his lungs. The ball of nerves in his stomach erupted into butterflies. Emma, in her mother’s daisy white wedding dress, a veil of soft silk tulle draped over her face, stepping down the aisle behind him. In a moment, everything became so sweetly real. He fought off the lump forming in his throat. As she reached his side, Jekyll slowly held out his hand. Emma smiled at him and took it. They took the last step together. The congregation of the wedding quieted as the ceremony began.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here, in the sight of God to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony.” The priest began.
Henry and Emma attempted to keep their gazes planted forward, but they kept casting coy glances at each other. Their hearts leaped anytime their eyes connected.
“If any man can show any just cause that they not be lawfully joined together,” The priest continued. “Let him now speak, or else hereafter, forever hold his peace.”
A deep breath rattled in Jekyll’s chest as the priest turned to look at him. He squeezed Emma’s hand a bit tighter.
“Henry John Albert Jekyll—“
“I have something to say.”
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the church. Something twisted in Henry’s chest, leaving him nauseous. Emma let go of his hand. Along with John and Sir Danvers, at his daughter’s side, they turned to see who had spoken. Standing amongst the rest of the seated, stunned guests, fists clenched at his sides, was Simon Stride. A bewildered quiet hung over the room like a fog. Finally, Emma stepped back up the aisle.
“Simon,” She said. “What are you doing?”
He stepped out from the pews. “You can’t marry him, Emma. I won’t let you make that mistake.”
Emma scoffed. “Must I remind you again that the matter of my marriage is not something for you to decide?”
“Really, Stride,” John spoke up. “This is a new low, even for you.”
“Now, let’s not let things get out of hand.” Sir Danvers said, trying to placate all parties. “Simon, I believe your feelings are clouding your better judgment.”
“Are they?” Simon smiled in that smug, sharp way. “No, I have just cause, as it were” He turned to look at Jekyll.
“Simon, what are you talking about?” Henry asked. He pressed down his left hand out of habit.
“Oh, people talk, Jekyll, including about you.” He said, stepping forward. “Not always nice things. Some of them even say you’ve been conferring with a lady of the evening.”
Henry’s heart sank. Everyone’s eyes had turned to him for all the wrong reasons. Including Emma’s.
“Henry…” She said. “Is that true?”
The muscles in Henry’s jaw clenched. He stared forward but looked at nothing in particular. John placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Yes.”
Whispering stirred through the guests, who at this point had become an unwilling captive audience. Several people shifted uncomfortably, some even looking like they were preparing to leave. Emma placed a hand on her chest. A quiet, smug noise escaped Stride’s lips.
“Henry, you can’t be serious,” Danvers said.
John squeezed Jekyll’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do this…”
“No, I do.” He said, shifting out of John’s grasp. He stepped back up the aisle to be face to face with Emma. “I was going to tell you tonight, along with the truth about everything.”
Emma bit her lip. She couldn’t look at him, despite the veil that had yet to be lifted blocking her face, but she nodded for him to go on. Simon rolled his eyes.
“I met her at my bachelor party. She struck up a conversation, and we…” Henry could feel his voice breaking. “We became friends. But that was all, I swear. Friends.”
In disbelief, Simon snorted. “Emma, you’re not really going to believe that.”
With a gaze of steel determination, she looked back up at Simon. Henry’s heart stopped. Then she took his hand again.
“Yes, I am.” Emma turned to walk herself and Henry back down the aisle, for his legs shook so badly he could hardly stand. “Because I trust Henry far more than I’d ever love you.”
There was no way the ceremony could go entirely back to normal, but at least the interloper had been put in his place. Simon’s face flared with indignation. He still had one more trick up his sleeve. The moment their backs were turned, he cried out.
“Did I mention she was brutally murdered?”
The guests erupted into mass protests. People got up to leave. In an instant, Jekyll’s face twitched with rage. He tore away from Emma’s grasp, whipping back up the aisle. Stride’s perversely priggish expression turned to one of fear as Jekyll seized him by the lapels, yanking him close. He could’ve sworn Henry snarled like a dog.
“You bastard, how dare you—“
Every muscle tensed, Simon waited for the rest of Jekyll’s statement, but it never came. Instead, he let go, his hands shaking. Henry’s face had grown deathly pale in a breath, to the point where one could see his veins. They looked black. He staggered backward, almost falling, clutching at his chest.
“Jekyll?”
In an instant, John and Emma were upon him, trying to help him stand.
“My darling, what’s wrong?” Emma asked. After all that excitement, this was what made her voice break. He couldn’t respond.
“Henry, what is it?” John’s voice was colored with urgency. “What’s happening?”
With his face contorted with pain and terror, Jekyll turned his head to look at his best man.
“Oh, God… Not now.”