“This is crazy. You know that, right? I love you, and I won’t say anything else about this for the rest of our lives, but this is crazy. We can still assume new identities and find an old man with an unregistered sailboat. By next week, we could be circling tiny islands in the Caribbean, drinking cocktails out of coconuts!”
Before I can tell Pam that I’m marrying Henry of my own accord, the woman we’ve been waiting on bursts back into the room, barely visible behind a giant puff of white fabric.
“Oh my…”
“My dears, I finally found it! When you told me you were driving up here to elope at our little shrine, I knew your dress had to be a true showstopper. This was ordered and never picked up, and I just think it’s the mostgorgeousthing I’ve ever seen. I’ve been waiting for the perfect person to sell it to, and I can tell it’ll fit you like a glove! What do you think?”
Mazie is the seventy-something proprietor of The Sassy Lady, the premier formal wear store in…wherever we are. Henry and John dropped us off here thirty minutes ago, and Mazie took one look at me, shrieked that I looked exactly how I sounded on thephone, and scampered off. John should be back before long to pick us up, and Pam’s been slathering me in makeup while trying to convince me to elope with her from my elopement.
“Mazie, that’s—”
“Iknow!” She interrupts, but I don’t think she knows. The dress she’s holding, if you can call it that, would put Princess Di’s to shame. There’s enough taffeta to cover a circus tent, and I’m able to catch myself just in time to not break Mazie’s heart. What I wear doesn’t matter, and this will be a hilarious memory one day.It’ll certainly be enough material for my daughter to repurpose for her own wedding if she wants.
“Mazie, this is incredible!”
Relief ripples through her as she relaxes, smiling broadly and placing the monstrosity on a hanger.
“I’m so glad you agree! I had a slinky silk number that was my backup option, but this is just so muchmore.”
Somehow, Pam and Mazie manage to lace me into the dress and find a veil that roughly matches the material. A honk from outside signals John’s arrival, and Pam and I exit, Mazie fighting to help hold up my skirts, to find a yellow school bus parked in front of the store. John opens the door and beckons us proudly.
“Your chariot awaits, Miss Bedford!”
I’m preoccupied with climbing into the bus as Pam growls at our chauffeur.
“What the actual fuck, Carter?”
“I needed something quick that I was sure would fit whatever dress you two picked! The only other option on short notice was a two-seater. Clearly, I made the right call.”
He pays Mazie, and we say our goodbyes before leaving, taking two quick turns and heading out of town toward a dense forest. The bus groans as John shifts gears up the one-lane road.
“So where exactly am I getting married today, John?”
His face lights up as he eyes me in the rearview mirror, and I shudder to think about whatever has him so excited.
“It’s fucking nuts, Blanche. Wait until you see this place! So get this. Apparently, this famous nun had a dream or some shit that God wanted her to build a shrine. Well, turns out land back toward the city was too expensive, but a few farmers decided to cut her a deal on this acreage in the middle of nowhere. She took it and built this chapel, but it’s so far out here that it’s not very popular. I think Henry said there’s a small congregation that helps keep it up, but for the most part, it sits empty.”
It’s a testament to how excited I am to marry Henry that I don’t care about his dressorthe chapel. I don’t care that John’s ordained and likely to marry us with the most disgusting ceremony in history, and I don’t care that my parents aren’t here to see my union. All that matters is that I’ve clawed the man I love away from everyone who wanted to keep us apart, andhe’s mine.Soon, legally. Till death do us part.
As I glance into the chapel, it’s gaudier than I could have imagined, with every inch of the altar at the front of the church covered in gold. The late afternoon light streams through the stained glass windows, bathing the aisle in an otherworldly mix of blue and green hues. A bouquet that Johnborrowedfrom a grave outside completes my look, and all that’s left is to make my way to Henry. Pam and John already stand in place, flanking my groom, who’s standing tall, waiting for me.
He looks menacing in a tuxedo, complete with a cumberbund, but missing his tie. His crisp white shirt is unbuttoned enough to allow his chest hair to peek through, andGod,maybe he’ll fuck me on the altar after I sayI do.His hands are in his pockets, and he doesn’t fidget at all. He just stares at the doorway I’m hiding behind, waiting for me.
With a last deep breath, I replace my veil and step into the threshold as time seems to slow. My vision is muted, the aisle a shimmering blue-green sea through my veil. Henry isn’t as clear now, a dark specter beckoning me to my fate, but I can make out the half step he takes toward me before remembering himself. My first steps seem to pull music from deep within the building, and Pam gives someone a thumbs-up. They must have found the church organist after all, and “Elsa’s Procession to the Cathedral” fills the chapel and my soul. It’s a shortened version, and I have just enough time to arrive at the altar as the crescendo swells, standing before Henry and looking up at him like he’s my new god.
We both know, if anything, I’m his.
As the music fades, Pam takes my bouquet, and I wait for Henry to lift my veil. Instead of flipping it back over my head, he joins me under it, taking my breath away with his closeness. He’s in my bubble now, with the blue and green light fading in the chapel, and as John begins a ceremony that’s less raunchy than I expected, all I can feel is Henry.
There are promises made, specific enough that I know Henry had a hand in writing the vows. I’m too lost in his smoky gray eyes to really hear what I’m promising, but it doesn’t matter. My fate has been sealed and tied to Henry Sinclair’s for longer than either of us knows.
John’s declaration that it was time to kiss the bride draws me out of my stupor, and I savor the soft press of my husband’s lips to mine. Once, twice, three times he teases me, pulling gently atmy lower lip and pausing to hold me in his heated gaze before he snaps.
Fisting my hair, he pushes me back, bending me in half as he ravages my mouth. His tongue demands entry, then retreats so he can bite again, everywhere he can taste. When he’s had his fill, I can feel that my lips are as swollen as his, and his chest heaves with the passion he’s trying to refrain from unleashing in this church.
I’m not sure why, since neither the audience nor the sanctity of the location is likely to matter to him.
You could hear a pin drop in the chapel, the tittering of birds from outside the only noise as the light continues to fade. Finally, I can sense that John and Pam have left, and Henry and I are, at last, alone.
