If America Wasn't Selected: A Selection Fanfic

Chapter Nineteen: Maxon

There she was, walking down the aisle.

Celeste's light blue dressed draped in white roses was lifted by her two bridesmaids, both wearing short, strapless, navy blue dresses. Celeste's smile was as big as her heart, the heart that she wanted to offer me for the rest of her life. I tried to match my smile to hers, but my lips couldn't go that far.

The light piano music in the background slowly faded away as Celeste made her way towards me. My heart beat faster and faster as I thought, Am I making the right choice?

Of course I was.

Then Celeste was right next to me. She grinned widely and fluttered her eyelashes.

I smiled back, but still, the corners of my mouth couldn't reach where Celeste's were.

The reverend stepped up and grinned at the both of us.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, to join this man and this woman together in the holy and sacred bond of marriage."

I could feel myself sweating, and I couldn't stop. I was so nervous. Once I was married, I was married, and I couldn't turn back. Sure I could divorce, but – why was I thinking of divorce when I was about to get married?

The reverend continued speaking. "If any person objects the marriage between these two people, please speak now or forever hold your peace."

Silence. Nothing. I sighed and wasn't really sure if it was for relief or disappointment.

"Alright then." The reverend coughed. "Now, please exchange the written vows that you have for each other."

Celeste perked up, and her maid of honor handed her a folded piece of paper.

She took a deep breath. "'Prince Maxon. Ever since I was three, I had dreamed of becoming your princess, your wife. And I never, ever thought that that would happen. When I got Selected, words couldn't explain my joy, my excitement, and my dire need and motivation to be yours. And when we shared our first kiss, I knew. I knew that you were my soulmate. Prince Maxon Schreave, I love you. My heart will extend a thousand miles just to love you. I can't stress this enough - I love you." Celeste ended with a big smile.

I gulped. Was I supposed to say something that good, that meaningful? The reverend exchanged glanced with me, meaning that it was my turn.

I read from the piece of paper that had a thousand creases on it from when I had nervously folded it over and over.

"Celeste, um, you're beautiful. You're amazing, fun, smart, pretty, incredible – and because of that and so much more, I-I love you." I mentally cringed. How could I say this when America could be watching the ceremony later tonight on TV? How could I marry Celeste, and betray America? I had to do this. I love Celeste, not America. I continued my vow. "And when I had received the list of the Selected, I was so stressed. I mean, I had no clue of who to choose, but when I saw you, y-you stood out and I knew that you were the one, and now, I am marrying you. Celeste, I love you, and I am looking forward to spending the, um, the rest of our lives together."

Celeste gazed into my eyes, and I returned it.

"Okay, now let's exchange the rings."

From the ring bearer, I took the golden ring with a big white diamond on it, and slipped it onto Celeste's finger.

Celeste grabbed my ring and put it on my finger. The coldness of the metallic ring shot a tingle of coolness through my veins.

"Okay. Do you, Celeste Newsome, take Prince Maxon Schreave as your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until death do you part?"

She beamed and said, "I do."

The reverend turned to face me. "Do you, Prince Maxon Schreave, take Celeste Newsome as your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until death do you part?"

Oh no. A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed it down. I couldn't do this. I couldn't. How could I do this? That's right, I couldn't.

But yet, I said, "I do."

The reverend beamed. "You may now kiss the bride."

I grabbed Celeste by the waist and kissed her. It was magic, it was beauty, it was love. From this kiss, I knew that I could just forget about America, forget about her "crush" on me, and forget about everything that happened on that plane.

But really, could I?