Dear Past, You Suck!

The Wedding Of The Century

"Well as quick as an injured man and pregnant woman can," Abe chuckled. I flicked up the control center and turned the flashlight on the lowest option. The light immediately bit into the dark, casting shadows from the dark trying to flee the unnatural light. We began our trek through the woods.

It turns out that we wouldn't get to sleep. At all. As soon as we were through the door, Margaret was on us. "Oh good you two are awake. You must begin to get ready. Elizabeth help me with my hair."

In her room I and a dozen maids and stylists attempted to perfect Margaret's hair. Curls piling half a meter high and working hard to defy gravity. "So where were you and Abraham last night?" Margaret inquired merrily as she stared at her reflection in the vanity mirror.

"Uh, we just lost track of time, you know, after him being gone for months we still have a lot to do together. So we just got distracted." I said refraining from making eye contact as I held a curl in place as someone else put another three inch long pin in.

"Yes, I understand. When George and I meet after a while apart, we lose track of the time as well," She giggled and blushed. I bit my lip remembering what she called him last night, a gross fool, so it is all an act. "I love that we both have the same type of relationship with our men-soulmates."

"Yes, how lucky are the both of us," I said rather half-heartedly. Me and Abe are but the relationship of George and Margaret is purely for the benefit of themselves.

"Oh, my heart is aflutter! Did you feel like this on your wedding day?"

"Uh yeah, sure did," I again said without true feeling. I can't talk with her truthfully if she is not being truthful with me. Is she worried I'd tell someone? She should know I wouldn't.

"You're moodiness is really not helping to make my special day special," She complained, her harsh gaze meeting mine in the mirror.

I faked a smile, "So sorry, Margie, it is just the hormones mixed with lack of sleep."

She patted my hand, "It is alright. I understand, just try a tad harder, please."

I bore a grin and spoke through my teeth, "Of course, my future queen."

She giggled in response,"Oh stop it!" Then in a quieter voice,"Do not actually, I quite enjoy it."

The stylist put the veil on her head covering her face as she secured the lace with a small tiara and pins. It was so long that it had been rolled at the bottom until she is ready to walk down the aisle. "Oh, it is perfect so it is done."

Margaret tilted her head side to side admiring the finished result, "Incroyable! Now you my bridesmaid, you must get ready as well as I get on my dress!" As she said so, a team of stylists and maids escorted me out of the room and into mine, seating me in front of a mirror.

To sit in front of a mirror so long with people pushing and prodding your head, makes your neck sore, your head irritated, your nose irritated from the amount of powders, and your body fidgety from the amount of boredom. And when it was done, it wasn't even to my liking.

"It's...tall. Thank you," I said before they immediately began dressing me in the large dresses of a bridesmaid. There is a soft knock on the door and a maid rushes over and opens it just a crack, not letting the visitor see into the room.

"She is indecent," the maid said.

"I am her husband I think I should be allowed in, do you not agree?"

"Yes, of course, Lord Warlest," the maid opened the door and stepped aside allowing Abe through.

"Should you not be getting ready, Abe?" I asked as someone tied a third skirt around my waist.