Happily Never After

I never thought much into why my husband-to-be cared so much about his appearance. I guess I always figured that was just the way he was as a person. I remember all the hours I spent banging on our bathroom door for him to hurry up and finish his hair , because I would be late for work if he didn’t get his arse out the door now!

I brushed off his vanity as self-love, and was grateful I had a man who took care of himself well. Even after living together for so long, he would still make a real effort to look presentable for our weekly family gatherings. Freshly shaved, well dressed and he was really good at keeping the conversation going at the table. Him and my mother got along swellingly in the beginning. 

Back when we started dating she would always ask if Jeff would be joining us. I took that as a thumbs up on her part. She never really liked any of my previous partners. Her taking to him so well made me think he could be the one!

I think that was the reason I said yes when he got down on one knee and popped the million dollar question. I could barely contain my excitement! I wanted to shout it from rooftops that he was mine and forever will be! I felt lucky, even! This man fell for someone who had a terrible dye job, pasty skin and no sense of fashion.

He always found a way to poke fun at the irony of my pale skin. He never knew how someone who worked at a tanning salon, who could use the machines for free, did not give a damn about looking sun-kissed. 

The day we met was the day I had tested out our automatic spray tan machine. To sum it up: there was a technical problem with one of the pipes and a burst of dark green dye covered my throat in one monster of a patch. I was due to start work soon, so I tried to wash it off in the sink of the small staff bathroom. When I reemerged to my desk, not only was it obvious, but it now had a drip design. It was all the rave that season.

Jeff walked through the door the second I took over from my coworker. He didn’t even try to hide the fact he found my misfortune hilarious. 

I never knew how many men actually tanned until I worked at the shop. I always thought I’d have a bunch of Barbie-esk girls, but funnily enough they were all normal people. So when Jeff asked me out a month or so after he started coming to the salon, I said yes.

I waited to tell my family about Jeff’s proposal. I knew I would see them anyways at our regular Friday dinner. I wanted to be sly, and see if anyone would notice the two tonne ring on my finger. I never wore jewelry, so a diamond on my ring finger should be fairly obvious.

Instead of excitement horror washed over my mother’s face when we entered through the front door. Instead of her usual hug, she walked towards the kitchen in a huff. 

“Fukcing, wha ble du blah dem." I heard her mumble.

“Is everything okay?” I asked her after a very quiet meal. “You don’t quite seem yourself." Needless to say, we didn’t stay for dessert. 

Things didn’t make sense. She loved Jeff. Even Pops called him ‘son’.

Eventually, I gave up on trying to figure out what went wrong in her head. I was marrying a sexy hunk of a man, who for some reason, loved me! Sure he drove me crazy, especially when he tried to match his chino short color to his socks, but those were small things.

The next few weeks of family dinners got cancelled, because my mum had something to attend to. Every Friday at 7.30 pm apparently. I wasn’t fussed, I had a grand wedding to plan!

I never thought I’d get married, and when I was still single at twenty-six, my mum made sure to make me aware that I have no hope after thirty.

There I was, a couple months before thirty, planning the wedding of the century. If I only get to do this once, I would make it an event to remember!

Wedding planning took up the majority of my time, so I hardly noticed Jeff was rarely around. But that ring on my finger gave me all the reassurance I needed. He would become my husband! And husbands were faithful and forever.

About a week before the big day, I decided to take some time off. Stress and nerves were eating through me almost as fast as I was going through bags of Doritos. Nothing a movie night couldn’t fix. Jeff had the afternoon off work too, so we settled on ‘Finding Nemo’, a classic, and got comfy on the sofa. 

Midway through, his phone went off. He jumped up from under the blanket, faster than I’d ever seen him move. He snatched his phone and walked toward our small patio.

“Yeah, uhum, sure.. no problem, be right there.” He spoke in a hushed tone.

“Work called,” he shook his phone as he walked back to the sofa “they want me to pop in. Something didn’t add up on the data sheets.” 

“Sure, will you be home for dinner?” 

“Of course!” He kissed my forehead, slipped his shoes on and accidentally slammed the door on his way out.

Our big day arrived in a flash! Before I knew it I had three people tugging at the boujee twist-knot bun on my head. One of the make-up artists almost poked my eye out, when she applied mascara. I would NOT be wearing an eye patch on my special day!

Everything was ready!

My flower girl went first, followed by my bridesmaids. Everyone faced the door, and waited for me to walk down the aisle. Pops extended his arm for me to hook mine through.

“Here comes the bride.. that’s me.. here comes the bride.” I hummed along with the tune. 

I made it to the front and was baffled to find a lack of Jeff.  

“Where is he?!” I whisper shouted. “Why on earth did you guys start the ceremony without the fucking groom. Who’s responsible for this?” I said as I turned into what could only be described as: bride-zilla.

I turned to see the hundred and some pairs of eyes staring at me in confusion. A sea of whispers formed.

“Just a moment everyone,” I fake giggled “there seems to be a bit of a mix up. Everyone, just stay where you are!”

Walking away from the altar had to be the single most embarrassing thing I have ever done. Dragging my dress behind me, I furiously ripped open the door to his changing room. 

A scream escaped my mouth before a hysterical “WHAT the ACtual FUck!!” followed.

The lovebirds were spread out on the changing room 3 seater sofa. Lady underneath him, Jeff on top. The shaky hand retrieved itself from his hair. Her leg slowly unraveled itself from his waist. 

He stood up slowly and fixed his hair, and adjusted his boner.

Damn, the nerve that man had!

“Uhhmm, I - I - thought we weren’t starting for another” he glanced down at his watch “ twenty minutes”. 

I was unable to contain my rage! “Didn't think we were starting for another twenty minutes“ I mimicked. 

I wasn’t done with him yet, but it was time to face the home-wrecking whore. Could she even be called a homewrecker? We technically weren’t married yet.

“Mum?!”

That was it!! I saw red!

“OUT!! The two of you; get the FUCK out!!!”

Sophie, my maid of honor walked in after they had left. I was a mess on the floor. Mascara tears stained my beautiful dress. The same dress I was going to drench in petrol later and burn once I’ve taken it off. Maybe I’ll leave it on, I couldn’t face family and friends after being humiliated like this. 

“Soph, can you get rid of them?” I gestured to the room filled with our guests.

“Sure, sweetie.” She walked out swiftly. Probably happy she didn’t have to stay any longer than necessary. 

Pops walked into the dressing room. He had probably already heard rumors forming of what might have happened. I flung myself into his arms and hugged him like I was four again. Neither of us knew what to say. Life would need some adjusting to.

They say wedding days are meant to be the happiest moment in a girls life. That the memories live forever in your mind. I happily forgot mine after a split bottle of rum with Pops.