Newlyweds Rather Old Flings
**Melissa's Point Of View**
“You’ll marry him, and that’s final.” It’s a remark that initially made me giggle. No, that’s a lie. A simple giggle isn’t nearly what came from my medium-sized lips. Mocking laughter is what bled from them. Now the only thing bleeding is my eyes.
“You’ll marry him, and that’s final.” A phrase that at the time felt meaningless has now become a death sentence. Marrying a man I’ve never seen before would be bad enough. However, I’m entirely out of jokes with the reasoning even more bogus than the punishment.
I’ve got no interest in marrying a man who could be a murderer, serial killer, predator, thief, child molester, or any other wild thing crazy people do. In fact, I’ve got no desire to marry anyone besides the man I love, Johnny Dawson. The six-foot, green-eyed country ginger that’s had my heart for eight years. The most glorious time in my life is about to be shattered all because of my mother’s godforsaken kidneys and her 1% blood type.
Don’t get me wrong, everyone thinks they’d do absolutely everything and anything to save their parents. Yet when it comes to breaking up their own happiness, I guarantee many would not settle with their original thoughts. I damn sure know I wouldn’t have agreed at the family meeting that we’re a family and sticking together is the only thing that matters. Hell no! I’d have said, sorry, mom, but 45 ain’t such a terrible time to die. Yes, my mother is young. Which means so am I.
Three years under thirty, and I’m marrying a complete stranger for the great cause of saving my mother. Great cause, terrible circumstances. My “suitor” has an uncle with the same blood type and a kidney he doesn’t mind sharing. However, since his half-a-billion-dollar nephew is five years over thirty and has never been married, his one demand was a year and a half of a trial relationship. As long as I survive the allotted time, I’ll be compensated ten million dollars for my time and effort.
Most females would welcome the opportunity with an unclogged mind, heart, and, most notably, legs. I am not one of those females. I despise the thought of being exchanged. I don’t care whose life I’m saving. Respectfully, it’s just a wild thing to be a part of. Plus, what if he’s a real-life pervert, and I’m just going to get in a car without anyone knowing where our honeymoon will be? I could be dead for two weeks, and everyone assumes I’m having a grand time getting into married life.
“Melissa! We’ve been waiting to help you with your dress! When are you going to let us in?” My grandmother probes, slapping the thoughts of my nearly impenetrable stress on the back burner long enough for me to respond.
“Sorry, grammy. I’m still taking it all in. I’ll try to speed everything up.” I’ve got no reason to let anyone in because I’m not wearing that white dress. It doesn’t deserve to grip any inch of me. Don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful. Magnificent even. However, it’s not going to be in front of Johnny Dawson, so it’s disgustingly ugly.
“You surely will be taking it all in, darling! The man is massive! Much taller than Johnny.” The woman fires back, and I hear her smile through the bolted brown door.
“Ughhh. Yuck!” I gag at her insinuation that the man would ever be able to enter my exquisitely private water park. There is no possible way I’d cheat on Johnny. I don’t give a fuck how much time passes. A year and a half is a long time to live with someone. However, it’s not nearly long enough to make me want anyone besides Mr. Dawson.
“Grammy’s right. If I would have known he was so finger-licking, I’d have signed the contract myself!” Kate promises with excitement spilling from her lying lips . The sister from hell. This bitch is nineteen, single, prettier, and the last virgin in America at her age. If anyone in our family should be in a dress, it should be her. The fact that she can tease is the ultimate sign of hate. The exact reason this wicked bitch and I will never be friends.
“We’ve met your husband-to-be. He’s such a honk!” My mother’s frail voice whispers out, getting my eyes to turn into disco balls. If there was ever a time I wished she wouldn’t talk, now would be it.
“I’m not going to be able to move any faster if I keep having to talk to you guys!” I growl back with no attempt to hide my disdain. How could anyone just ship me off to be with another man when they know I’m already in love? In love with a man that my entire family has claimed I should be, procreate, and build wealth with. The nerve of everyone is absurd. After a few months of my mother regaining her strength and being healthy, everyone will move along with everyday life. Meanwhile, I’ll be loathing the distance from Johnny for 547 days.
“Excuse me, I’d like to speak to Melissa alone for a brief moment.” The earth shatters from the resonant tunes of Johnny Cash. How ironic. The man outside my door isn’t Johnny, but he sounds just like the famous one, and from Kim’s squeal, I know this is Tyler. Tyler Griffin of Griffin industries. The software company that somehow makes other computer nerds millionaires. If I were a tech person, I’d know how it works. However, I’m one of the few who still have to google how to block someone on my iPhone. Exactly.
“Oh. Oh, okay. No problem.” They giggle like little school girls who’ve all just agreed on the cutest boy in the classroom. My palms dance to my head as I brace myself for the subsequent explosion of the bottomless voice. Yet, it never comes. The only sound outside the little room keeping me away from the outsiders is scuffling feet and doors closing. Then there’s silence. Silence that drums into my ears so loud I have to start tapping my white acrylic nails to hear anything else.
“Tap. Tap. Tap.” At first, the rhythm chimes along with my nails. However, I quickly understand that the sound is coming from the window. “Tap! Tap!” Slowly, I creep my head to the blinding window that’s bedazzling my eyes with rays of sun.
“Baby, it’s me! Let me in!”
