I Didn't Want to Get Married

I could scarcely believe it! At last, the day of the wedding had come! As per custom, we were going to be wed prior to noon, and the Church Parish nearest the Biersack estate had been booked for nine o’clock. As only made sense, my parents and I had made the journey, along with my ridiculous new trousseau, yesterday, and stayed overnight at an inn. Though Father claimed it was because the Biersacks were adhering to a new trend, whereby a bride and groom could not view one another on their wedding day until the ceremony, I suspected a different truth. He was doubtless afraid I’d bolt at the sight of Andrew in the flesh.

To the contrary, what most definitively made me want to abscond was when the monstrosity of my wedding dress was brought out! Instead of just wearing a bonnet or turban, like a reasonable bride, my whole visage was going to be covered with a ridiculous, gauzy veil! Father simply insisted it was the newest rage, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him no, especially as the dreadful thing must have cost him a fortune! At the very least, it did have lovely, lace sleeves.

Both of my parents opted to attend, which surprised me, but they insisted. I didn’t know how many of the Biersacks' relatives lived nearby, but my mother reassured me that the wedding party, as a whole, was not ridiculously overdone. Seeing her eyes glitter with excitement, I couldn’t help but be happy to see her so.

When Father left for a moment, to ensure all was ready, I bid Mother join me where I sat, in a side room of the Church. “Mama?”

She smiled at me uncertainly, doubtlessly hoping I wasn’t going to raise one final argument and pitch a fit. “Yes, (Y/N)?”

I smiled. “You mustn’t tell Poppa…”

Her face grew serious. “Yes, my darling? What’s wrong?”

I shook my head. “Nothing! I am just glad for this match, and I believe it would go to his head if we let on. Andrew and I are fond of one another, we like each others' company.”

Her mouth fell open. “My goodness! Are you… Did you-“

I knew what she meant. “No! No-no, my virginity is intact,” at least, in the way she need be concerned.

She smiled broadly. “I’m so glad, my little goose! But you’re right, let time reveal that you’ve settled happily. That alone will stroke your father's ego plenty.”

Just then, Father came in, looking flustered. “It’s time.” Mother scampered off, presumably to one of the pews in the Church, and I felt my very bowels clench. I rose and took my father’s strong arm. “Steady, (Y/N). You’re a brave girl. That’s it.”

And before I knew it, I was striding slowly up the aisle of the Church, beside my father. But all I could see was who stood at the end. Andrew, dressed in a fine suit, looking incredibly dapper!

My heart thundered in my chest and I squeezed my father’s arm as I smiled, seeing Andrew again! My eyes flitted to the Anglican priest, looking somber and a bit bored, before returning to my fiancé- nay, in moments, my husband! His cheeks were red, and he smiled back at me. I saw that he, too, looked nervous. Thank goodness!

It seemed to take an eternity, but when Father placed my hands in Andrew’s, I had a brief instant of panic. I had thought I could never marry! Did I want this? My heart felt like it would burst, until I felt Andrew squeeze my hands, and a new calm filled me as we turned to face the priest.

The rest of the ceremony was a blur of formality, as he droned on, banally, for what seemed like time immemorial. Andrew and I piped in, when appropriate, as we’d been taught. But then the moment, that was, for me, the most genuine, that carried the meaning of our matrimonial bond and commitment, came. Everything abruptly came into focus when I heard the priest say that Andrew was to place the wedding ring on my finger.

My hand shook as I turned slightly, to face Andrew, and extended my hand. I turned my head, and saw a man hand Andrew a golden ring. Andrew’s hands were trembling as well, as he took my hand, and carefully slid the ring on my finger. I found myself smiling stupidly at it, sitting on my finger, adjacent to my fiancé ring, my eyes moistening, until I heard the priest remind us of the next step.

The bland man marched us through an additional series of vows, and then came the final act: he bid Andrew kiss me, his new bride. Curses! I was wearing a veil, what the deuce was Andrew supposed to do?

Fortunately, I had just married an intelligent man. Andrew made it look as though it were planned, and elegantly lifted the veil smoothly over my head before placing a chaste kiss on my lips!

Not wanting to do anything scandalous in a Church, I merely squeezed Andrew’s hands as we gazed at each other. Dimly I was aware of the priest pronouncing us man and wife, and reminding us to sign the marriage register on our way out.

Andrew leaned towards me, grinning. “This will be the last time you sign your maiden name, Mrs. Andrew Biersack.”

I couldn’t resist. I whispered back, “Perhaps our wedding night doesn’t have to wait until nightfall? Let’s sign the register, and quickly!”

Andrew chuckled, his blue eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

Notes

For the Ghoul: Game on!