It is supposed to be my day. Well, I sure won't forget it. That's me, the bride. See the girl behind me? That was my maid of honor. See that look on her face? That is the look of a drastic mistake.
That is the look of shock and horror after discovering that no, I did not know that my fiance was sleeping with his best man. I had no idea. Maybe it is my innocent sheltered upbringing, in Portland.
I don't have any excuse for not seeing it. None at all. But holy crap, she could have waited to tell me until my mom was gone.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
The Bride
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"The Bride"
It is supposed to be my day. Well, I sure won't forget it. That's me, the bride. See the girl behind me? That was my maid of honor. See that look on her face? That is the look of a drastic mistake.
That is the look of shock and horror after discovering that no, I did not know that my fiance was sleeping with his best man. I had no idea. Maybe it is my innocent sheltered upbringing, in Portland.
I don't have any excuse for not seeing it. None at all. But holy crap, she could have waited to tell me until my mom was gone.
And then it hit her. She had just vowed, sworn, taken an oath, in front of her parents and Father Ellis and everyone, to stay with Todd for the rest of her life. With Todd. For the rest. Of her life.
She hadn't meant any of that at all, but all the flowers and presents and parties had distracted her.
She had only wanted to wear the dress.
Please don't have me throw up at my reception. I got through the vows with a smile and a few tears. I got through the endless photo session posing with the bouquet in front. I even got through hearing my father tell me how happy this marriage made him.
I met Tom at a fundraiser. We slipped away after we made our pledges, talked for hours, hit it off, and promised to see each other again.
We dated off and on for a few months, and eventually realized we loved each other's company but didn't love each other.
But that urine soaked strip changed everything.
Our families don't know. We'll tell them the baby was born prematurely. They're not stupid but they'll never ask.
The best man is now toasting us with a review of our courtship. I must excuse myself now.
I knew I would marry you. I had decided long ago to marry a rich man.
Two years ago, I read an article about you. Your high school sweetheart, the love of your life, your wife, had passed away leaving you with two young children.
No, I didn't become your children's nanny. I'm not nanny material, but I became their nanny's friend. She trusted me. She set up our first date.
From there I worked hard to seduce you. The sadness of your wife's death, the heartbreak of the children losing their mother, your loneliness, your breaking heart.
You told me you are well off.
Money? You have money?
You proposed. I shed tears as you placed the ring on my finger.
Here we are on our wedding day. I'm so happy I'm crying.
"The children are fine; they're with the new nanny. Come stand with me for our photos."
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