Intrusion in the Dressing Room of a Supposed to be Perfect Wedding
I planned the perfect wedding, intimate and sparsely attended, but fancy as fuck. We’ve got a string quartet and a classy, traditional layout for the ceremony in this church, but a hell of a jumping, head-banging DJ’d reception planned for later. My bridal party consists of no one other than Kate. I can’t stand any of my other coworkers, I have no cousins or close friends, and my mom never returned from the fairy realm.
Not that I mind. I don’t need her here criticizing me. This wedding is going to be perfect, free of all family drama or threats of imprisonment and lifelong enslavement. And hey, I had my dad give his blessing the first time round, so I don’t need him here to walk me down the aisle the second time.
Gracen has no family left either. He doesn’t even have the memory of his father, so he doesn’t have to feel any emotion at his absence. He has a best man to mirror me and Kate at the altar, some guy named Steve, his new partner at work.
I know thoughts of Brett, his actual best guy friend, are still making this difficult for him. He doesn’t have a real connection with Steve. His first choice in front of that newbie was actually Julian. The two of them are becoming quite close friends these days. Gracen overheard Julian saying how awkward it would be to attend this wedding though, before he gathered up the courage to ask him, so the job went to a near stranger instead.
Filling every expected role for this wedding party has been nothing but a headache to be honest.
I wanted Ben to be our ring bearer at first. He would look absolutely adorable in a little tux, but then he went and swallowed one of the rings, the second we weren’t looking. Following that trip to the ER, I just wanted him safe, at home, and out of my hair for a day. I don’t need screaming toddlers at this ceremony. It is just going to be me, and Gracen, a few sort-of friends, and a priest.
I don’t need anyone other than Gracen, standing here across from me while we take our proper vows…
So what the hell is keeping him?
He arrived here late, just minutes before our booking, after trying to work out some mess up with the wedding cake at our bakery. Now he’s supposedly still getting ready in his tux… He insisted he did not need anyone to help him dress, despite the complicated nature of bow-ties and cummerbunds. Having anyone around when he’s dressing gives him skin-crawling flashbacks to Luc apparently, his overbearing sire who used to pick out his every outfit while he was grooming him to become the new Roman.
I wonder if that’s what’s keeping him now… He might be having an episode. He hasn't had one in close to a year, but maybe I should rush in there and check on him, just in case…
It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress though. I do not want him to see me in this dress before that supposed to be stunning reveal when I stride down the aisle with graceful purpose to a lovely serenade. We do not need any more bad luck in this relationship. And I do not want to ruin my moment initiating this wedding. I’ve been picturing it for weeks, picturing his initial reaction to my flowing white gown, that glowing smile he’ll give…
An expression I won’t truly get to see while he’s wearing those most infuriating glasses. He could take them off just for a handful of photos, now couldn’t he? We have hardly any witnesses or guests at this wedding, so there is no reason for him to be uncomfortable. I’m the one suffering major discomfort, because I’ve been on a diet of nothing but Kale and green tea for weeks to fit into this fucking gorgeous dress.
Maybe I’m just hangry, or maybe this is what wedding day jitters means: the inevitable flood of nerves that comes when everything goes fucking wrong on your supposed to be perfect day.
I already walked out into the main room, hearing the music cue, and knowing it was time to walk down the aisle… only to find myself staring at an empty altar and have Kate quickly inform me, “Sorry. No. It’s going to be another few minutes, people! The groom is still… The fuck is he doing, Steve?”
Steve didn’t know. Steve doesn’t know much of anything. He’s just been trying to hook up with Kate this whole time. “Just warn me if he’s climbed out the window or something,” I uncharitably muttered, slogging back to the dressing room.
I am actually grateful now that we do not have an audience of hundreds here, waiting for a fucking hour and a half, as this ceremony drags on toward its eventual end… “That’s it. I need to go see him,” I sigh, gathering up my skirt, just to freeze right in place.
Luc’s stood in my doorway. Of course he let himself right into my dressing room without invitation. His eyes are roving up and down my body with clear appreciation, as he proclaims, “It was beyond rude, my love, to not invite your current husband to your wedding. But my, that is a fine choice of wedding gown. Still ironic, that it’s white. It should be black, like your heart.” I go to slap him, but he catches my hand and kisses it, steering me gently back to face the mirror. “Don’t think that means I’m not exulting this most fashionable costume. I absolutely adore this strapless, embroidered bodice, baring those lovely shoulders and pushing up those breasts…” He presses right up behind me, sliding his hands around my waist with lips pressing softly against my ‘lovely’ bare shoulder.
“I don’t even need to tell you that’s a perfect suit,” I breathlessly reply, eyes stroking his reflection in the mirror, the same way he’s leering at me. The midnight black material is complimented by splashes of emerald green and silver in the pocket square and the lapel. It would not look out of place stood up at the altar, even though it’s not a full tux. We already look like two figures ontop of a wedding cake. “But you do not belong here, you absolute devil. I know what you’re up to, and you’re going to piss off my groom. So leave, now, and don’t you dare let him see you.”
“You know what I’m up to,” he mocks with a grin, smoothing his hands slowly higher up my bodice. “You know I’m here to fuck you in your wedding dress, right here in this church?”