Chapter 13
“I now pronounce you, man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”
Now, wait, let me explain. I know this seems rushed, and maybe it is but I love him. I love Ricky with my whole heart, and I know that he loves me back or else he wouldn’t have asked me to marry him and find a house together. That’s what couples in love do, don’t they?
After Ricky dropped me off at my apartment from our night together at Noir & Nectar, he called me to apologise for being so handsy with me and I forgave him.
I genuinely believed he was sorry for wrapping his hands around my throat a little too tightly, saying his emotions ran away with him and how he wanted me so badly that he couldn’t control himself, and I understood him because the feeling was mutual and well, now we’re here.
A happily married couple. Ricky went out of his way to make me the happiest woman alive, from allowing me to leave my job and pass his case onto someone else, now I don’t have to worry about scraping money together to pay my bills on time, my wonderful husband takes care of that for us.
I don’t ask for any money of my own, but I don’t need to, everything I will ever need is provided for me.
I’ve been given a beautiful life and I can’t complain.
If only my mother and father could see me now, would they be proud of me?
Or ashamed of me, for falling for a man who does everything for me.
I’m going with the latter, but that doesn’t matter now.
I’ve had no contact with either of them for most of my life now and maybe that’s for the best, even though I’ve always dreamt of my father getting his life together enough to walk me down the aisle.
Ricky picked us a wonderful house in the hills, it’s just perfect for us.
Four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a huge kitchen with a gorgeous marble island in the centre and a spacious living room with grey and white furniture, and a sprawling green garden.
It’s more than I could ever ask for. My husband talked me out of bringing my books and horror prints with me to decorate with, and I reluctantly agreed.
He said he wanted us to keep the interior of the house neutral and welcoming for when we have guests over.
My trophy books have been packed away into brown cardboard boxes in the garage, but it’s okay because my husband said he’ll give me my own library room in the new house and I can’t wait.
I’m brought back to the moment of my wedding day with Ricky’s soft palm gliding up my jaw to cup the back of my head, his grip is firm in my hair as he tilts my head back, allowing him full access to my mouth.
His kiss starts off soft before fully claiming me in front of everyone, his teeth clashing with mine as our tongues dance together in each other’s mouths.
I moan quietly just for him, and he tightens his fingers into my pin curls, crushing the defined waves.
The applause and whistles of the room have me stepping back from my husband, a pink flush rises up my neck behind the fabric of the dress until it reaches my already blushed cheeks.
I scan the room, my eyes roaming over faces that I’ve never seen in my life before, except for Ellie and Patty whose features seem to be happy for me, but I know better.
They’re worried about me, they think I’ve jumped straight into this without thinking it through but they’re wrong.
I love Ricky and he loves me. They just don’t understand our relationship.
I give them both a small smile and they return it.
Ricky slips his hand into mine, intertwining our fingers, his expensive gold band resting on his left hand.
My husband.
I’m officially Mrs Annabelle De Rossi.
The tingling of Ricky’s warm breath fans over the side of my face before he whispers in my ear.
“There’s nowhere to run now, sweetheart. You’re mine.” And I believe him.
The day runs into the night without an issue.
We left the church that Ricky chose and drove over to a stunning hotel to have our reception.
All the way there Ricky’s hand never left my thigh, keeping the muscle in a tight grip and I instantly melted at his possessiveness over me.
The hotel is nothing short of perfection.
The high rise building seems to touch the white clouds and beyond, thousands of glass panels cover the entirety of the front, making it gleam like a crystal ball in the hues of the setting sun.
I feel my husband’s palm rest at my lower back, guiding me through the main entrance into a private room.
Ricky paid for the hotel to be closed for the day to accommodate our wedding and I couldn’t be more grateful.
The waiting staff, dressed in all black open the white double doors for us and Ricky gives me a small push into the room and I’m immediately met with a breathtaking space.
The room is decorated with every shade of cream and ivory you could think of.
Huge circle tables are dotted around the room with a long table at the head of the room for me and Ricky to sit at with heavy drapes lining every wall, hiding the brickwork underneath.
My eyes can’t seem to focus in one place. There’s just so much to take in. Every guest has a place to sit around the tables, each decorated with blood red, rose centerpieces, a stark contrast to the blinding cream room. I had no idea what I’d be walking into, but I never expected this. I’m in awe.
Turning to face Ricky, my eyes probably have little red love hearts in them.
“This is beautiful, Ricky. I.. I can’t believe you did all this for me.
” I struggle to get the words to leave my mouth, still amazed by his thoughtfulness.
He tucks a loose strand of hair that’s escaped my half updo, behind my ear.
The soft pad of his finger grazes the shell of my ear, sending a delicious chill up my spine.
My husband gives me a blinding smile, his ocean eyes roaming over my face before landing on my mouth.
“Anything for you, love.” My insides melt into goop at his delicious tone. His firm hand finds its place at my lower back again, guiding me into the throngs of people whom I’ve yet to meet.
My feet are screaming at me from my heels and I’m desperate to strip out of this dress.
The tightness of the corset is starting to strangle me like a snake, cutting off my airways from the outside in.
Politely, I excuse myself from the group conversation, informing Ricky that I’ll be back in the moment and head straight to the bathrooms. He nods once, dismissing me.
Once I’m inside the hotel’s bathroom, my hands hit the cold sink basins in front of the mirror, my fingers gripping the porcelain tightly.
My head hangs heavily in between my shoulders, the aching pain in my spine making me groan, causing me to squeeze my eyes shut for a moment.
Lifting my head slowly, I take in my reflection in the mirror.
I’m definitely not the same person I was eight months ago.
My eyes don’t shine as bright as they used to, maybe I’m just feeling tired.
It has been a long day after all. Circling my head side to side, I inspect my facial features.
My once round face is now more hollow and prominent, the bones in my face push against my pale skin.
Ricky put me on a diet to help with my eating habits, he knew they were a bit out of control.
I was either not eating enough or shovelling everything I could in at once, so he made the choice for me, to help me.
My feet move on their own accord as I step back from the mirror, my dull eyes boring into myself.
I’m just tired.
Lifting my shaky hands, I run them down the front of my dress, feeling the small white pearls against my clammy skin.
The dress is something I never would’ve picked for myself, there isn’t an inch of skin showing.
The high neck flows down onto my chest, covering my breasts with long white sleeves, covered in intricate lace details, that reach all the way down to my knuckles with a small elastic loop at the end to wrap around my middle finger, keeping the sleeves in place.
The corset is fastened by a piece of white, satin fabric at the back which leads to my lower back then flows into an A-line skirt.
Don’t get me wrong, the dress is beautiful, it’s just not my beautiful.
Ricky wanted this one and I want to make my husband happy, plus, I don’t think he would have appreciated my skin on show for everyone on our wedding day. I respect him in that way.
The biggest sigh escapes my lungs as I try to release some of the anxiety I can feel building in my chest.
I love my husband, I love my husband, I love my husband.
Quickly turning away from the mirror, I start to leave the bathroom when I hear the door swing open, immediately stopping me in my stride.
Two pairs of heels click against the floor, the sound growing louder the further they get into the bathroom.
I freeze, then dash into one of the bathroom stalls and slide the lock into place then press my back further into the wall away from the door, keeping my breathing silent.
The last thing I want is to speak to people I don’t even know, and for them to catch me in a moment of weakness.
I wait for a beat until both pairs of heels enter the bathroom.
Voices I recognise instantly fill the room.
“I’m worried about her, Ellie.” Patty says, her voice riddled with concern. I keep quiet and wait to see if Ellie replies.
“Yeah, me too. Something about this whole thing doesn’t seem right.” I roll my eyes but carry on eavesdropping into their conversation. I feel bad that I’m doing this but I need to hear their unfiltered thoughts.
“Don’t you think this is kind of rushed? Like one minute Ricky wasn’t in the picture and now they’re married?” Patty says. I can’t help but feel a pang of hurt at their opinions.
“I agree. I don’t get good vibes from the guy either.
Plus, when was the last time Ana messaged in the group, or wanted to join in for our book of the month?
It’s been months! And anytime we try to talk, we’re shot down, saying she’s busy with Ricky.
” Ellie says, her voice slightly raised.
She gets like this when she feels deeply about something.
Fresh tears start to fall down my face, probably leaving track marks through my heavily applied foundation, at their words.
Silently I sob into my hands as I hear their footsteps retreat outside of the bathroom, the door swinging shut behind them.
How could they say those things? I thought they were my best friends?
But best friends don’t say things like that.
Are they trying to ruin my marriage, maybe they’re jealous of my relationship with Ricky.
I have everything they want. Ricky is good for me.
I know he is. I let out a shuddering breath before grabbing a few pieces of tissue from the holder on the wall and dab the wetness under my eyes before flushing it down the toilet.
I cannot let Ricky and my guests see that I’ve been crying on my wedding day.
I don’t want my husband to think I’m ungrateful or that something is wrong.
Slowly, I slide the lock open and step out of the cubicle, taking another quick glance at my appearance in the mirrors then tidy a few strands of blonde hair away and leave the bathroom.
Plastering on my best smile, I enter the reception room again. As if nothing ever happened.