After venting my frustrations on the flowers in the room, my father abruptly dragged me toward the door. More detestable flowers were shoved into my arms as I was pushed into the aisle, where my soon-to-be husband stood at the altar. He looked cold and serious—not exactly my type.
Don't get me wrong; he was handsome, but I preferred someone light-hearted and mischievous. If I couldn't tease my husband, I didn't want him. So, yeah, I was definitely not interested. For some reason, he kept glaring at me, as if I were the one forcing him into this marriage. Wasn't he the one who wanted to marry my sister? I didn't get it.
As the ceremony dragged on, the monotony began to take its toll, and my mind started to wander.
I wonder if the cake is chocolate… I haven't been able to buy chocolate in ages. Is this ceremony ever going to end? I knew there were more pressing matters to consider—like my almost-doomed wedding—but I've never been the most serious person. After mentally cursing out my mother, my soon-to-be husband, and my sister for running away, I found myself daydreaming about sweets.
While they recited the vows, I caught myself debating whether chocolate fudge or raspberry would be the better filling for the cake.
"Charles Henry Quin, do you take Alicia to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her for as long as you both shall live?"
"I do," the groom growled.
I do love fudge, but raspberry is also yummy, my thoughts drifted again.
"Alicia An Collins, do you take Charles to be your wedded husband, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him for as long as you both shall live?"
"Hmmm, I prefer raspberry! Yes, raspberry is definitely the way to go!" I exclaimed, completely forgetting the gravity of the moment.
The room fell silent. It took me a few moments to realize the gravity of my interruption. I looked up to see my mother and husband glaring at me, one eyebrow raised in confusion. Oops… where are we? What comes next? Did I just disrupt something important… again?
"Umm…"
The priest intervened. "I believe you meant to say 'I do?'"
My cheeks flushed as I coughed, trying to regain my composure. "Um, yes, of course… I do."
"You may now kiss the bride."
That was a close one… wait, kiss who? I'm the bride?
Suddenly, I felt the veil lift off my face, and a soft sensation brushed against my lips. "Mmfmph!" When did he get so close?! The kiss was brief but surprisingly warm. It seemed to melt a few brain cells because the next thing I knew, I was across the room, and it was time to bring out the cake.
It was champagne vanilla, lavishly decorated with enormous flowers. Did I mention I hate flowers?