A Perfect Stitch

Chapter 07 | making wrong choices

The situation laid out in front of me seemed like a competitive entrance exam.

One in which you had to pencil out the best answers in other to be the best or slump your shoulders and reseat for the exam the next year.

But then, that still didn't seem like my present case.

Penciling the correct answer meant refusing to get married to the man next to me and slumping my shoulders meant accepting to become his wife.

Either way, the consequences remained balanced on a fair scale.

Refusing to be his wife meant displaying a big scandal, letting a grandpa die, and bringing shame to a well-to-do family.

Accepting to become his wife entailed saying goodbye to my freedom, goodbye to my virginity, and embracing motherhood, one which I wasn't prepared for.

Wedding bells playing their twitch of melody in my brain, whispering noises from the crowd filling my eardrum, and the accusing mental fingers pointing at me; left me stranded.

For those who had never seen a crying bride in her whole bridal glory before, then today was one of their lucky days.

One glance at me and an update on their Instagram would get them popular.

Warm tears rushed down my cheeks, licking my chin, and my eyes flickered in distress.

The virgin Marry in the Holy book had a child from the Lord of Lords, but at least, she got wedded to the love of her life, Joseph. Why did my case have to be different?

The trust I had for Anna faded into thin air, she had forgotten about me.

I didn't know for how long the priest had been staring at me, but when my eyes lifted to meet his worried ones, he grabbed a hankie and dried the sweat which spewed down his face.

His lips quickened into a beautiful smile, but the deep wrinkles on his forehead showed how the current situation stressed him.

He cleared his throat and called on the congregation's attention.

He clutched the microphone and words escaped his trembling lips.

"From the bride's coldness, it will be best to. . ."

"No!"

There was a collective gasp that followed the protest and everyone present shot worried eyes at grandma, excluding Dwain of course whose eyes didn't leave his glittering diamond watch.

She stood a little distance away from the altar, walking up the red carpet floor.

She held her gown firmly and her heels creaked awfully in the collective silence.

She showed no sign of giving up on her protest. "I said no! This wedding won't be canceled for what so ever reason. She will get married to him and that's my final decision."

Grandma shot a dirty glare at me.

Her eyebrows pulled in and her lips hardened like stone.

Her cold look peeled my skin, burned my chest, and sent tingles down my spine.

How on earth could I escape from such a fiasco?

Hope was lost.

"Elizabeth, my little angel. She looks scared, but she wants this wedding, not so?"

Grandma's threatening words brushed my ears and my teeth throbbed.

"I... Yes. "

My lips glided my stammering words out of my mouth.