So we’d had a wedding, but not how I’d imagined.
And a wedding night I’d now sooner forget.
Turning my hand, I make a fist of fingers, slowly releasing the middle digit in the direction of the bed. Childish, yes. But that’s how I feel; impotent, though my anger burns internally. It’s painful, this disillusionment. I never would have imagined he’d serve me this kind of turn.
Kai turns, murmuring in his sleep, an arm flung out almost as though seeking me, though I could be fooling myself. And it’s with no small amount of irritation, I realise I’m still staring at my ring.
With a sigh, I pull my laptop onto my knee, and for want of a better pastime, I type.
Dear Niamh,
Congratulate me. I’m married.Dramatic, I know.
No, I know it isn’t April.But does it still make me the fool?
No bullshit. Really. I got married today. Even if it feels kind of weird to say it. Okay, type it, but you know what I mean.
Yes, I know I’ve got a fair bit to explain—see, I can almost hear you from all the way over here! Anyway, the long and short of it is, Kai followed me to Aus. Then asked me to marry him. I said yes, and before you get all arsey, I would have said yes no matter when or where.
And that, I realise as I type, is true. Today may not have been my choice of wedding, but my decision to marry him I don’t regret.
The how... that’s another thing. They do say the devil is in the details, and in this case, the devil is in the bed across the room.
Hey, but in getting hitched, I feel like I’ve won lotto.
And not in the way you’d think.
I bagged my man and became independently rich!
A million dollars in the bank, more to follow. And he wonders why I’m pissed.
I shit you not. In marrying Kai, I received a hefty wedding gift from him, a sort of reverse dowry, only I get it instead of Geoff. It’s mine to spend howeverI like.
Providing I stay faithful to him. Under the proviso’s set out in our marriage contract, infidelity leads to the return of this money, and an instant divorce.
No million dollars for passingGoand no returns.
As he’d pointed out, he’d included reciprocal terms, the magnanimous bastarding shit. I get those same rights if he’s caught shagging around—not that he was honour bound to offer them, he’d pointed out as my yelling reached fever pitch. As it turns out, by this marriage, he didn’t even have to offer me the right of seeking divorce—on any grounds. Apparently, a woman’s right to divorce needs to be written into the contract; it isn’t a given. Unfuckingbelievable, along with guaranteeing me half of his wealth should it be proved he’d been unfaithful.
I feel like I’ve just signed the lease to my life, but that isn’t even it—it isn’t the reason I’m so angry my skin burns. He dictated the terms, and they’re generous , but I just signed the fucking thing without even thinking. Without even realising. Without Kai suggesting I take a moment to read.
The man railroaded me, and I don’t care if his intentions were fair. It’s the reason I can’t sleep, along with wondering if I know Kai at all. And that I was stupid, that I didn’t even ask. What does that say about me? That I’m too trusting? Blinded by love? Just an idiot? I’d assumed I was signing on the dotted line, consenting to being wed, like you would for any ceremony. I could’ve been signing away my life, and it wasn’t until later, driving home in the car, my hand still in his when I’d realised what he’d done.What I’d done.Words and duplicitous figures running across the page, the realisation that I’d been duped.
Does it matter that it reads like it does? The money, the privileges?
Does it fuck.
I think you’re probably asking who buys a bride, and whether they’re sold by the kilo or pound. Probably wondering what the refund policy is, too.
Jokes aside, it seems I couldn’t refuse, that the practise is more than just a tradition. It’s a requirement of the ceremony, so I can’t complain. Yeah, right.But though the practice is normal, I’m pretty sure the amount is not, but I guess Kai doesn’t do anything half-arsed or small.
Apart from me, maybe.
Anyway, as an indelible facet of the nikah ceremony, according to Kai, I don’t get to refuse. And no, I didn’t misspell that. Nikah’s nothing to do with unmentionables.
So I got married today.But not in a church, or even by civil ceremony. And I wore a very cute Alannah Hill maxi dress.But it wasn’t a wedding dress, not as I’d imagined. And although my hair was covered, it wasn’t by a gauzy, white veil. Our wedding was officiated by a cleric from the local mosque.
The wedding itself was short, though not without a certain ceremonial aspect; words spoken, promises made. All good.
