Love is free!

'What about this one?' I ask shyly, as I slip out of the changing room. I am not used to all this fuss - all about me - and it makes me feel like I am blushing furiously all the time. Or at least like I should be! This one was gorgeous. Slinky, soft as silk (maybe it is? I don't know, I don't know much about haute couture after all!) and just so beautiful, it made me feel like a bride. Which is what I am actually about to be! Crazy times, and I would never have planned it this way, but it just happened. I felt so at home with him. I felt instantly like we were meant to be a family.

The gasp as they saw me was audible. I didn't have a huge bridal party, just my Mother and my longest standing friend (oldest makes us both sound ancient, and I am very aware of ageism now, as Richard is significantly older than I am; though I am by no means young, I am also not old!) because like I've said before, I don't like the fuss. This was a whirlwind romance, and I was hoping for a fairytale happy ending...the princess and her prince together forever.

'Oh darling!' said my Mother. 'This is it.' Ever aware of her trademark dramatics, she stood silently, a single tear rolling down her cheek. She turned to the assistant helping us. 'I suppose it's not right deciding so soon.'

The assistant blinked at my mother for a moment, unsure how to reply.

'Being the first one I picked out, I mean!' she impatiently added. Mother had a habit of being overly dramatic, the center of attention at all times, with a little temper that she wasn't afraid to show. She said it had something to do with her passionate nature, though of that I wasn't so sure. Passionate sounded like a way to excuse bad behaviour, which my mother had a habit of getting into at times. But for the most part it was harmless, and I was used to her by now. I grew up content to allow her to rule the roost, being my mother and all...and it did let me slip into the background, which was where I was more comfortable anyway.

'Oh! No Madam, sometimes one just knows. I think this is one of those times.' Soothed the assistant. 'If, of course, Sadie feels the same?'

I looked at Erica. Her face shone. She, unlike me, had little time for my mother's neurosis, but this time I could see she agreed.

My mother ignored the question posed to me and continued in her brash way. 'Yes, sometimes Sadie doesn't know what is good for her, she has very little style. This, my darling, is beautiful. I don't think we need to try another. When can you get your seamstress here?' she asked the assistant before continuing, 'We need to nip and tuck a little. Then it will be perfect.'

As was my way, I went along with my mother's wishes. The seamstress was hustled in, instructed by my mother, a little tiara was selected for me in lieu of a veil (I didn't mind either way really) and the details were all settled. She was paying for the dress, her gift to me she said, and so it would be exactly as she wished it to be. I didn't mind. I was marrying Richard in two weeks time, and that was all I wanted. My mother stressed the rush to the assistant and the seamstress, tutted some more about my inability to plan properly as I'd left the dress so late and we continued on our way. One thing my mother didn't have a chance to interfere with was my marriage to Richard, having never met him thanks to his ridiculously busy schedule. Yet. That daunting event was to take place at the rehearsal dinner two nights before the wedding. Again, something my dear mother insisted on. I would have been content with as little fuss as possible, but my mother would never have allowed that! She saw it as being robbed of a rite of passage, as mother of the bride. I guess I could see her point, though it didn't worry me. True to form, there was a giant wedding planned, none of it by yours truly though I was present at all the meetings with the ridiculously expensive wedding planner. Funded by my mother! Richard would have paid for it, being the successful man that he was, but my mother insisted that it was her duty. And so I went along with it.

Did I mention Richard was a little older? He is a few years younger than my father would have been, had he not died all those years ago. I was only eight at the time, but I remember a lovingly patient man who dealt with my mothers 'passion' in a calm manner, turning a blind eye to some of her more scandalous eccentricities. Marriages were made to last forever back then, and he didn't mind what she got up to so long as they presented a united front to the world. My father came from a long line of old money, and my mother fast adapted to it as if she was born to it instead of him. When he died, she continued living the lavish lifestyle she had grown accustomed to, but now without any restraints. Richard, on the other hand, was a self made success story. He lived a simple lifestyle though, enjoying the finer things but never being flash. Our ideals aligned very well, and he was solid and dependable, everything I had ever wanted. I doubted he had a passionate bone in his body, but then again, I didn't need that in my life! My mother brought enough to my world to cover it three times over. Richard and I met in the coffee shop I worked in. I like routine and stability, and this was a lovely little simple job where I could chat with normal people and feel a sense of belonging. He came in once - his usual spot was shut for refurbishment - and from that day on he came every single day that he was in the country. We chatted, we laughed, and eventually he took me out. As friends, but we grew close, until something romantic started budding. He had a gruelling schedule, travelling all over to look for sites for new hotels, so it was a slow process but I was in no rush to settle down and besides, that wasn't a thought initially. But eventually, Richard and I grew serious, which is what led us to where we are now! And yes, he did ask to meet my family, but I managed to keep him away from my mother. Until now.

We had a brief wedding rehearsal - a moment of tension when my mother took it upon herself that in lieu of my father, she would be walking me down the aisle. I was adamant that I would be going alone in honour of my father. She didn't agree; we had dramatics, a large scene, until eventually she backed down to my wishes. My first victory ever, and it felt good. It felt more than good. I could see Richard's eyes gleaming, he thought it was amusing.

So here we are, at the wedding rehearsal dinner. Mother, of course, is doing her very best showman act; laughing and flirting outrageously with Richard for all she is worth, trying to upstage me (possibly very successfully!). I didn't mind. This inelegant display of a wedding is for her benefit. This was only the rehearsal, with an intimate group present, so I am fully preparing myself for the onslaught of dramatics on the actual day. I know what is coming. Richard finally turns to me, having managed to get away from the depths of my mothers clutches. 'Your mother is quite the scream' he says.

'I know, she is harmless though. I'm sorry if she's a bit much.' I say, taking the last sip of wine in my glass.

'No, no, it is fine. I'm finding her rather intriguing.'

I feel my eyes getting grainy. 'I am tired. I'm going to call it a night. Do you mind?'

'Not at all, darling. Do you want me to come with you?' he asks.

'No. A bride needs her beauty sleep. I will see you at the wedding, I don't want to jinx it by seeing you tomorrow. Escape whenever you're ready, don't let my mother boss you around.'

He leans forward and kisses me gently on my cheek, his finger stroking the spot while he looks at me. The look of a man in love, a stable and steady love. I get up, proceed with my goodnights and followed by my mothers teasing words, I leave the venue.

The wedding day has finally dawned. Erica and I slept at the hotel that I am getting married in, at Richards insistence a few weeks ago. He was quite sure it would save us a lot of stress on the day, and he was right. We had a leisurely morning, with room service breakfast, and now we were waiting for the makeup artists and hairdressers to arrive. I was fully moisturised, painted and plucked, ready for my wedding night with thanks to the beauty therapist who had just left. Richard hadn't really spoken to me yesterday, when I called he had been quite brief and to the point, but he said he had a lot to do before today. I wasn't expecting to speak to him today before the wedding, but that just made the anticipation grow.

The day progressed, on the one hand it was going so fast, but on the other, so slowly, I was a little surprised that my mother hadn't arrived at the crack of dawn. As it was she was slightly furious that I hadn't invited her to spend the night with Erica and I. But I wanted a quiet night in with my best friend, knowing that things would never be the same again between us. Well, they would, but also not. As Richard's wife, I would be accompanying him a lot more than I had been until now, and that would mean less time for Erica. We had always been there for one another, and this was our special time, almost like a swan song to our youth. But before I get morbid, I do find it odd that my mother isn't here yet, nor has she called. Twenty minutes to the wedding, and she isn't here! However, I don't look a gift horse in the mouth - I am enjoying the peace. I look over to Erica, and she is looking beautiful in the dress my mother picked out for her in navy. Her hair is nearly done, simultaneously with her makeup. She catches my eye, then frowns slightly before mouthing 'You OK?'.

I nod. She says something to the make up artist who steps back for a second. 'What's up?' she knows me so well.

I know I said I never look a gift horse in the mouth, but I say without thinking, 'Where's my mother?'.

Without missing a beat, Erica says 'I was thinking the same. I will call her quickly.' And she's off the chair and in her bag, looking for her phone. The photographer wanders in, from the other room where she's obviously done with the mood photos, and starts snapping away at me in my dressing gown. It makes me feel awkward. The hairdresser is nearly done now, but my make up is finished which feels like it gives me a mask to hide behind.

I sit in uncomfortable silence listening to the camera snapping, the brushes of the hairdresser tugging at my head, and the makeup accessories of the lady who was doing Erica's face clicking as they're rearranged. What I don't hear is talking, which means Erica can't have got hold of my mother. The hairdresser tells me to look down, and lathers my head in lacquer - pinning and pushing and touching as she goes. 'Right,' she says as she steps back, 'look please.' She hands me a mirror. I look. I see myself hidden behind a face that looks familiar, but different. It's fine. I nod my thanks and hop off the chair. It feels good to stretch my back, sitting is exhausting. I find Erica in the room, she looks up. 'I can't get hold of her. What do you want me to do?'

'Actually, you sit down and get finished. I'm going to slip down to the lobby, maybe she's fighting with the staff to let her in here. I didn't tell her which room we're in.'

'I can go!' says Erica. 'You need to get dressed.'

'No, relax. I need a walk anyway.' I'm ready, I just need to slip on the dress,' I say as I head off towards the door.

There is a line waiting for the elevator on this floor. I push at an escape door, to find steps. I will be gawked at enough later, I could do with some privacy now.

I head down the steps towards the lobby, listening to the deep belly sounds of a busy hotel. I wonder about the caterers, they must be working at full speed ahead. I am cautious, not wanting to attract too much attention. I walk quietly. As I come to the floor the lobby is on, I see a couple clinched together just inside the doors I need to pass through. My first thought is that I have to disturb them to get into the lobby. And then I realise that I know them! It's Richard! And my mother!

'MOM!' I manage, 'what are you doing?'

Richard freezes, then slowly lets go of my mother before turning around to face me. 'Sadie,' he says, 'Sadie I'm sorry.'

My mother rushes forward. 'Oh darling, don't worry. It's nothing. It was a little bug we needed to get out of our system. You look lovely, let's go up and get you into your dress.'

I move away from her. She stops. Richard moves forward, as if to take me in his arms. This causes me to snap right out of my shock, and I slap him off me.

'Sadie,' he whispers, distraught. 'Please. It's nothing. Please.'

'Richard,' instructs my mother. 'Go to the chapel, everyone will be collecting. You need to be there. I will see to her and bring her down in a minute. You go. I will deal with this.'

'Mother,' I say icily. 'If you think that there will be a wedding now, you are deluded. I will go to the chapel right now.'

'Darling, you aren't dressed. What do you mean? You can't possibly go looking like that, get your dress on and lets get this show on the road.' she simpers.

'Sadie,' says Richard. 'Wait.'

I burst through the lobby and rush towards the chapel, as if my life depended on it. I storm the doors, the guests are arriving, my mother and Richard following behind. I walk up the aisle, that place of happiness and tranquility shattered by my anger and upset. I stand behind the lecturn, relishing the silence of the eyes on me, for once.

'Today, ladies and gentlemen,' I begin, 'there will be no wedding. I have found my fiance and my mother in a moment of passion, both of them having forgotten the reason we are even here today. Unless of course Mother, you wish to take my place?' I look angrily at her. She stares ahead, challenging me. 'Ok, so no wedding today. But today, ladies and gentlemen, I have found my freedom. I will no longer be dictated to by a woman who cares so little for my happiness, and I will no longer be tying my life to a man who would have acted like a father instead of a husband. Today, I am free. I invite you to enjoy the party, my mother has paid for it, but I am no longer going to be reason for the celebration. Today is the first day of adulthood. Thank you Mother, thank you Richard. You have given me the greatest gift I will ever receive. But never, ever, EVER contact me again.'

I turn around, and I walk out to the sound of shock. The murmurs begin before I am even out of the chapel, but I don't care. I feel light. I feel free. I start to run. I run towards the first day of my life.