1. Run-a-way Bride #3
Using the back of my hoodie, I dabbed at my eyes and mouth.
I didn’t know why I cared, but I didn’t want to ruin the makeup.
Fish surfaced and ate my vomit, clearing the water as if I hadn’t just done the disgusting act.
That sight made my empty stomach churn, and I mentally crossed off whatever type of fish they were from my list.In the navy water, my reflection stared back at me.
Besides a loose curl and the rest of my hair still pinned up, I looked pretty.
The team had done their job well. My makeup had never looked like this, and with all the crying I’d done, it hadn’t moved. It was like witchcraft.
“Either that nigga cheated last night or you were bought off the black market.”
Startled, I jumped and nearly fell backward into the lake when a hand grabbed my hoodie and pulled me forward.
The voice didn’t match that of a burly male guard, and as I caught my breath and recovered from my life flashing before my eyes—because I’d never swum in a lake—I saw that she wasn’t a guard, nor was she alone.
“Move away from that damn water, cuz ima be mad as hell if me and my baby gotta go in there and save you.”
The baby referenced was on her hip and staring at me with wondering eyes.
Moving as far away from the lake as I could because even though I could swim, those fish were a little too eager to eat human waste for my liking.
“Thank you,” I pushed out. Still overwhelmed with emotion.
“Unh hun,” the gorgeous lady eyed me curiously while shifting the child on her pointy hips.
Gorgeous was putting it mildly. Just glancing at the girl made me feel insecure.
I was wearing a white Lululemon leggings set with a matching hoodie.
It was simple, but I’d been told to dress comfortably.
Cloud shoes were on my feet before the pedicure, but now I was in white Versace flip-flops.
I wasn’t dressed like a bum at all. Still, next to this lady, who had to be her child because they shared many features, the most distinctive one being their Asian eyes, I was basic as fuck.
Even though I was the one getting married, you might think she was.
The white silk halter romper that hugged her calves was one I’d seen on the runway during NY Fashion Week.
It was made by MIU MIU and was said to be the only one of its kind.
I knew because I’d wanted it for graduation, and even my father’s connections couldn’t or wouldn’t get it from the brand’s hands.
Yet, this gorgeous girl was in it, and it had to have been tailored to her body because the model was a size two, while this girl was at least a size seven.
Her long hair was pressed and hung to her waist, and her bangs made her look even more Asian, but I also saw some African American features in her.
Her baby was dressed in white, but she wore a small jacket with her short set.
Both were wearing Chanel sneakers, and both had Chanel bags slung across their bodies.
The ring on her finger made the one I’d been given look like moissanite, and if I had to choose, that ring was my favorite part of the scene, though I wasn’t too fond of that either.
The dresses, the wedding location, décor, and ring would all make a woman’s dreams come true—just not mine.
He’d gotten it right for someone, but not me.
The only thing I loved was the pink theme.
The glam team was one I would have chosen too.
Still, her ring topped mine. It should have come with its own security.
“Now, why in the fuck are you out here throwing up and scaring off my glam team and shit? With this bad as a wedding that has been stressing my sister the fuck out, you posed to be around this bitch twirling. So what that nigga do?”
Tugging at the sleeve of my hoodie, my cheeks warmed.
I hadn’t interacted much with anyone outside of the guards, the lawyer, and my teachers who checked in on me daily.
I’d never made time for friends because my dad was more than enough, and I spent most of my time studying.
The glam team was the first real interaction I’d had in a while outside of the people I knew or had come to know, and now, I felt bad for how I’d treated them since she pointed it out.
“Wait, your glam team?”
“Unh hun,” she smacked. If I weren’t so distraught, I’d be cracking up at the way she and her baby were giving me the same look right now, looking like twins. I could tell another person’s genes were involved, though, because while they looked alike, her daughter also resembled someone else.
“Bruna, Chimo, and Lunar been glamming me and my girls for the last few years. My sister is the wedding planner,” she informed.
Great! The wedding planner he had hired witnessed me falling apart out here, and now I was really embarrassed.
“You’ve been crying and moping around this bitch all day. What that nigga do?”
“Nigga do?” Her daughter repeated.
“What you said, Mafia.”
“Who?”
“Mafia. That’s her name. Well, middle name.”
She kissed the side of her daughter’s face, who still hadn’t taken her eyes off me.
That was an odd name, but at the same time, it was kind of cute.
My name wasn’t common, so I wasn’t one to judge.
Since her sister was the wedding planner, I didn’t know if they were connected to the groom, but I didn’t have anything to lose at this point.
I needed to talk to someone, and since she was here, her and Mafia were about to get an earful.
“This may sound strange.”
“Girl, if you truly knew who you were talking to, you’d retract that statement. Ain’t shit strange in my world. Spill it.”
“My father arranged this. I’ve never met the groom, and since my father is dead, I can’t confront him about it.
I’m usually not this harsh or miserable, but I had my whole life planned out, and there’s no way I could marry a man I don’t even know.
He doesn't even know me! Your sister did a beautiful job, and if circumstances had been different, I’d be kissing the ground she walks on.
But I just can’t see myself being tied into an arranged marriage.
I didn’t even know those were a thing! Right now, I don’t know who my father really was or is because - an arranged marriage?
I just graduated from school and have a six-figure career waiting for me! What if this man is a killer?”
“First off, I’m sorry about your daddy. I lost my mom years ago, and it still hurts.
I lost my daddy too, but my mama was my world.
As far as arranged marriage, they are more common than you think.
Are they traditional? No, but some people end up being happy.
Lastly, there are far worse things in the world than to be married to a killer. ”
“What?!” My eyes bulged, and my heart skipped a beat.
“Girl, hell yeah. Give me a killer any damn day of the week. At least I know he’s not gonna let a muthafucka try me or him. As a matter of fact, sometimes the higher the kill belt the better the-,” she paused and covered Mafia’s ears.
“Dick,” she mouthed.
“I fucks with a murderer, boo. But I’m with you on everything else. You didn’t know anything about your husband-to-be?”
I shook my head no, still at a loss for words and regretting that I’d even confided in this lady in the first place. As pretty as she was, clearly, she was missing some screws. Who in the hell wants a killer? What if he killed me? Plus, killing is wrong.
Instead of replying, tears started flowing again. I let out a wail so loud it shook my chest. When the baby's lip began to quiver, I covered my mouth with my hands and cried into my sleeve. This was a part of my life I never would have imagined.
“Oh hell no. You got my baby about to start crying. Come on.”
She grabbed my wrist and pulled me behind her as if I were her child, all while still holding her baby, who turned her head to watch me.
Her eyes were watery, but the tears hadn’t quite fallen yet.
Instead of taking the path where the guards had been, she led me on a detour through the trees.
For a moment, I thought I was being set up until the parking lot appeared, revealing a white Rolls-Royce parked there.
Releasing my hand, she reached into her purse, grabbed the key fob, and the door opened automatically.
She strapped her baby in the backseat while I stood there still crying, throat raw, lashes heavy, and feeling snot start to run.
Once Mafia was secured, she strutted to the driver’s side, giving me a clear view of her round bottom.
I must have been mesmerized because when she yelled out “hey,” I jumped.
“Um, yes?”
“Get in the damn car, girl. And before you say no, I got my baby with me, plus I'm dressed fresh off the runway, I’m not going to do shit to you.”
“I..I.. I don’t understand.”
She leaned over the armrest, showing perky cleavage.
“DO you want to leave?”
I nodded yes, even though I still didn’t understand what was going on.
“Look, I don’t know you. But you’ve been looking pitiful as hell all day. With me, it will forever be 'fuck these niggas,' so if you don’t want to marry that man, I’ma get you outta here.”
Again, I was at a loss for words. I had nowhere to go besides the home I shared with my father, and if I went there, I was certain the guards would drag me out, kicking and screaming. She must have read my mind because the next words that came out of her mouth had me hopping in the car.
“Look, the only cash I have on me is the tip money my sister used to pay the staff. I don’t know how much of it is left but it’s yours. I passed a train station a few miles down the road. I can take you there.”