First Comes Marriage

Chapter 1

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Oh, honey, you're beautiful, Desiree's mother said as she admired her in her wedding dress.

Desiree turned and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and shimmering. She looked like a scared little girl. Her hands trembled as she scrunched her brown hair.

She didn't want to do this.

Let me help you, her mother said.

She nodded. If she spoke, she knew she would say something wrong. Besides, her mother already knew how she felt.

Desiree closed her eyes as her mother fastened her necklace and put on her veil. Veils were so old fashioned, but Mother had insisted. If only she could hide behind it.

Her mother placed her hand on her shoulder. You'll come around, she said. You'll love him. You'll see.

But she didn't think she would love him. How could she? She'd only seen him on a handful of occasions when their parents had dinner parties. Even then, they'd only made small talk.

All she knew about him was his name, his family, where he went to school, and what his plans were. How could they build a marriage around that?

Desiree wanted to rip her dress off and get out of there.

You're too quiet, my dear, her mother said.

I don't know what to say.

At least pretend to be happy. Smile.

Desiree grinned, showing her teeth.

Ugh. Not like that. Pretty.

What do you want from me?

I've never asked anything of you except for this. I could've pushed you into medical school, or to be a model. Really, you could've been on the cover of every magazine. All I'm asking is this. Is it too much?

I would've rather gone to medical school.

Her mother laughed. She smoothed her dyed red hair and smudged her lipstick with her finger. She kissed Desiree on the cheek.

Just be a good girl.

She checked her watch. Now, this starts in five minutes. Put on some blush, will you?

Her mother left. Desiree was alone. Alone at last. Ever since the fake proposal and planning the wedding she hardly had time for herself. Well, she didn't plan it. Her mother did.

How could she be so unhappy? She wore a gown women would kill for. The gown was ivory, with diamonds trimmed around the front and bottom. It had a bodice, a silk lining, and she looked like a princess. But she hated it.

The diamond necklace glittered, and her veil fell over her shoulders. She grabbed the makeup brush with the gold handle and swirled it into the blush. She dabbed some onto her cheeks. The more she dabbed, the more tears blurred her vision. Here she was, listening to her mother again. Obeying her.

Desiree wondered how her future husband was handling this. She knew he had a girlfriend. He must be just as devastated as she was. She set the makeup brush down. Or maybe to him this was just another business deal.

The procession music started. Violins swelled, and a piano played. Her mother had hired a damn orchestra. The dressing room spun, and she held onto the vanity for support. Her stomach twisted, and she thought she would be sick.

She thought of her ex boyfriend Daniel. At first, he was understanding. He thought of her marriage like any other business proposal. But he broke up with her a month before. He couldn't stand the thought of her being with another man. Oh, how she missed him. She wanted the groom to be him. She wanted him to be there for her. But he'd made her decision for her.

There was a knock on the door.

It's time, her mother said.

Desiree opened her eyes and took a deep breath. She didn't know what to think, what she could tell herself to calm down. She didn't care if everyone knew how bad she felt. They weren't about to marry a stranger.

She wiped her sweaty palms on her satin dress. She opened the door, and her mother ushered her out.

Desiree walked from the dressing room, into the main hall where the ceremony would take place. The doors opened, and her mother rushed past her to take her seat. She bit her lip and tears rolled down her cheeks when she saw her father there, waiting for her in his tuxedo. He beamed at her, and suddenly everything felt okay.

She walked to him, and put her arms in his.

I'm proud of you, he said.

Thanks, she said.

Everyone in the room rose from their seats. They gazed at the bride walking down the aisle with her father. Cameras flashed, and several cameras were at the end of the aisle, filming their every move. After all, this was the biggest wedding of the year. 

Desiree wasn't used to paparazzi, although her to be husband certainly was. He watched the cameras more than her.

She had to admit, he wasn't bad to look at. He looked sophisticated in a tuxedo. He was twenty-six, had naturally blond sandy hair, blue eyes, and tan skin. He looked like a typical California guy. But there was something else about him. He had a playful, devilish demeanor. He looked like he was up to something. That mysteriousness is what drew women to him. His eyes gleamed as though he had a secret he couldn't wait to share.

Part of her wanted to know what it was. She walked past the cameras with her father, and up the steps to where her husband and the minister waited.

He took her hands in his. She wondered if he felt her shake. She wondered if he felt how sweaty she was. The minister's voice droned as he started the ceremony. Her ears rang with her pumping blood, and she could hardly hear a word he said. She couldn't take her eyes off the man who stood before her and held her hands.

His thumb twisted her engagement ring. The engagement ring was huge. A large white diamond with two canaries on either side. The band was white gold. It was the most beautiful piece of jewelry she'd ever seen. But to her, it was worthless.

Do you, Desiree Hawkins, take Roman Briggs to be your husband? The minister asked. Do you promise to love him, and be faithful? Do you promise to be by his side, never in front or behind?

Desiree opened her mouth, but her throat closed shut. She cleared her throat. I do, she said, her voice cracking and soft.

Louder, her mother said.

The minister frowned at her. Desiree's jaw tightened. I do, she said louder.

Please, no one speak, the minister said. He waited a moment before turning to the groom. Do you, Roman Briggs take Desiree Hawkins to be your wife? Do you promise to love her, and be loyal? Do you promise to be by her side, never in front or behind?

I do, Roman said. His voice was clear, loud. How could he not be the least bit nervous?

I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss, the minister said.

Desiree froze. Roman leaned in, and placed his moist lips on hers. He wasn't urgent, or too pushy. He just brushed his lips against hers. He seemed to know she wasn't ready.

The room exploded with applause. Desiree felt blood rush to her chest. Someone whistled, and cameras flashed to capture the moment. Roman broke the kiss, and they turned to walk back down the aisle. Everyone clapped, and smiled. Desiree smiled too. The mood of the room was infectious.

For once, she felt like a happy bride. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of her life. Roman squeezed her hand tight, as if he were trying to comfort her, encourage her. This moment would be one she would remember forever if she were marrying the one she loved.

They walked down the aisle together. Rose petals floated through the air. Her mother sobbed. They exited the main room, and went down the hall to a smaller room. There, the marriage license waited for them. It was already signed by the minister and the witnesses. Her hand shook as she signed her name. She handed the pen to Roman, and he took it. She realized this was the first time she'd ever been alone with him.

Her mind raced with something to say. This was her husband, she had to say something.

The caterer is supposed to be good, she said. She regretted it instantly.

He set the pen down. Oh yeah?

Yeah. He's the best chef on the west coast.

I could use a good meal, he said. Come on. They'll want to take lots of pictures.

They went back outside the hotel to the garden. They took hundreds of pictures. Some with family, the wedding party, and just the two of them. She had to pretend like she loved him. For some pictures she gazed lovingly at him, he held her, and they kissed. But it was all fake. The only thing real in those pictures were all the diamonds she had on her body.

After the pictures, they went to the ceremony. Desiree sat with her husband at one long table with the bridal party. Everyone came up to them and congratulated them. She sat in shock. She nodded and smiled at everyone, and rose her glass to the toasts. She smiled for pictures.

But she didn't drink. She ate one bite of cake. She stared at the floral arrangement in front of her. She only got up to have the first dance.

Yet, as miserable as she felt, the dance with Roman was the best part of the night. His hands around her waist made her feel safe. Her hands almost felt as if they belonged around his shoulders. His face was warm. She couldn't help but smile, truly smile. Maybe they could at least be friends. They didn't have to be in love, but he seemed friendly enough. Nice enough.

Perhaps he hid all his fears, his nervousness to make her feel better. The music faded, and the dance was over. They returned to their seats. She chanced another conversation with him.

Do you dance much? She asked.

Just at weddings, he said. He took a bite of his cake. This cake is delicious. Did you pick the bakery?

My mom did, she said.

He nodded. Didn't she plan the whole thing?

Yeah, she said. I wasn't really into it.

Me neither, he said.

At least we have that much in common. Neither one of us wants to be here.

It's nothing personal.

Oh, you either. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure you're a great guy, but I kind of wanted to be in love when I got married.

Me too.

They couldn't help but laugh. She felt relieved. Somehow, knowing he felt the same way made this so much easier. She took a bite of cake for herself. It was the best cake she'd ever had in her life. Perhaps if they could live their own lives, this marriage could work.

Soon, the crowd dwindled as the night went on. Those left gathered to send the newlyweds off on their honeymoon.

Desiree and Roman ran to the limo as guests showered them with silk rose petals. The limo brought them to their hotel.

An employee of the hotel took their luggage and brought it to their room. Roman approached the front desk and got the key.

The walk to the hotel room, and the ride to the elevator was silent. The strangest part was awkward silence with her own husband. How could they have nothing to say?

They walked down the hall, their feet silent over the plush carpet as they searched for their hotel room.

Roman stopped outside the last room on the right. Here we go, he said.

He stuck the card in the lock and unlocked the door. He motioned at the room. She moved to go around him, but he grabbed her around the waist.

What are you doing?

He cradled her in his arms and lifted her. I'm carrying you inside.

Please, just put me down, she said as she held tight to his neck.

Fine.

He carried her inside and put her down on the bed. You didn't have to do that.

He shut the hotel room door. I just wanted to do the right thing.

I think it's too late for that.

Hey, this wasn't my idea. I didn't want to do this either.

She perched on the edge of the bed and dug her heel into the carpet. What are we going to do?

The best we can.

I don't know you. You don't know me.

"We have time to get to know each other. No one's asking