Sometimes It Happens

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Chapter Ten

I wake up on Sunday in a bad mood, just as I had every morning since going dress shopping. Like, rip-your-head-off-for-laughing-too-loudly bad mood.

Sara made pancakes and bacon for breakfast, which, in normal circumstances, would have been delightful, but not today, no, today the smell of bacon makes me vomit. Too add to that, I’ve noticed the past few days that I’m suddenly horny- like, all the time.

Which sucks, by the way, because I never mastered the art of self-pleasure and despite marrying him, I can’t actually push Alex onto the nearest surface and fuck him into mutual oblivion. I don’t know where we stand on the intimacy part of our new life together and I can’t think of a way to bring it up in an adult like manner without sounding like a sex crazed maniac. So, I’ve suffered through days of being deprived from any sexual contact, making my mood that much worse.

Alex has been wonderful though, suffering through my bad moods and snappy remarks with surprising calm. Except Thursday, he ended up walking me home and leaving immediately in a bad temper. Of course, I don’t even really recall what I said or did to make him angry, as I’ve been bitter lately meaning there are a lot of reasons for him to be distant with me.

If I didn’t know him as I do now, which in the past two months we’ve gotten to know each other ridiculously well, I’d be worried he wouldn’t show up at the church in three hours.

Yesterday was basically a spa day for most of the female wedding guests. Aunt Emily couldn’t make it, but my mom, Cass, Avery, Sara, Kelly, and I went to get manicures and pedicures. Sara has a friend majoring in cosmetology who is doing my hair for me right now. She’s putting my light brown hair up in a sleek and elegant chignon bun and I did my makeup earlier, as I don’t like letting other people apply goop to my face or use an eye liner pen near my eye. My makeup is neutral with nude tones for eyeshadow and a light pink lip gloss.

I’ve forced back my irritation with people all morning, just keeping it in, but I’m ready to snap. The girls are talking and getting ready and trying to talk to me but I’m not in a chatty mood.

It takes five more minutes for Chelsea, Sara’s aforementioned friend, to finish my hair, and in that time, my temper has intensified from a heated simmer to a choppy boil. Without a word, I go back to my room, shut and lock the door, then slide down the door- as throwing myself into bed and getting under the covers would ruin the hair and makeup that took forty five minutes to complete.

I’m so emotional, I’m about to cry and I can’t figure out what the main reason is:


-Sexual frustration

-Getting married so early in my life

-Fear of what is going to happen next

-Stress over moving in with Alex after the wedding

-The wedding today

-Angry because I am not being walked down the aisle by my father like most girls (even though I made peace with the fact that he doesn’t want anything to do with me a while ago, it still hurts.)

-All of the above

I move my left hand into full view so I can stare at the ring. Most girls stare at their engagement rings and think of love and romance and a happy life together. Here I am, staring at my engagement ring and stressing out because I don’t love Alex- yes, I like him. Admire him, even. I trust him and he is my baby’s father, but I know I don’t love him. I was hoping I’d magically be in love with him when we got married today, but I’m not and it kind of sucks. Forcing back the tears in my eyes, I stand up and grab my phone from its charger on my bed sit on the edge of the mattress and press my finger down on the ‘Baby Daddy’ contact. I can’t bring myself to change his name for some reason.

“Hey, are you okay?” Alex answers, concern evident in his voice. We were supposed to be trying for traditional by not contacting each other on the day of the wedding. It was my idea, but oh well, it’s not like we’ve been traditional in our relationship thus far.

“No, I think I’m having a breakdown,” I answer honestly.

“What? Why? What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” I say miserably. “I’m an emotional wreck. I’m angry and nervous and scared and hopeful and horny and worried and stressed. I just want to cry but I can’t because my makeup isn’t waterproof and I’ve already made life miserable for everyone around me including you and I’m really sorry for the other day, I don’t actually know what I did, but I did something and it hurt you and I’m just- sorry,” I stop to breathe and let him speak, aware that I brought up the reason for my sexual frustration and surprisingly not embarrassed.

“You’re a mess,” He says and I laugh pathetically. “Let’s start with the last thing; you’re upset because you think you’ve made life miserable for everyone?” He pauses for me to confirm.

“Yes, I feel bad, but I don’t know how to control my mood swings,” I say, playing with a loose string on my comforter.

“You haven’t made life miserable for anyone, maybe a bit difficult, but not miserable. I’m sorry for walking away from you the other day and for giving you the cold shoulder, I just needed time to cool down so I didn’t snap back at you. I’m not used to this situation and I’m trying really hard to adapt, just as you are. Next time we can talk about it instead of ignoring the problem, okay?”

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“Now, I’m sure you could redo your make up if you really want to cry, because you don’t have to bottle everything in, you know that right? We’re getting married, Nat, which means you can talk to me.” I nod, but realize belatedly that he can’t see me and whisper okay.

“As for your long list of emotions, let’s start with anger, why are you angry? Is it at me? Did I do something?”

“No, it’s not you; I’m angry at my dad for not being here for me on my wedding day. It’s not something I knew I was looking forward to until I realized that I wouldn’t get it. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. Do you want my dad to walk you down the aisle? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“I-“ I don’t know how to respond to that.

“You don’t have to, I just thought maybe it’d be okay because he is going to be your father in law,” He sounds nervous now, but I still don’t know how to respond.

“It’s not that, I just- I have been under the impression that he doesn’t like me very much,” I tell Alex.

“He’s just unsure of the situation, Nat. You’re carrying his grandchild; he adores you. He just doesn’t know how to react to you. So, should I ask him to walk you down the aisle?” I smile.


“Okay, give me a second; he is in the other room.” There is a brief moment of unidentifiable sounds and words before Alex’s voice comes back on the line.

“He says he’d be honored to. Now, what was next? Nervous and scared? We’ve already spoken about your nerves and my answer remains the same: I am nervous too, we just have to work through this together. Okay?”

“Yeah, I’m-”

“Don’t you dare apologize, Natalia. What are you scared about?”

“I’m scared that I’m going to mess up and the consequences will be too awful to comprehend,” I slip from the bed onto the floor and switch my phone to my other ear.

“We’re bound to mess up, Nat. There is no way around it, but so long as we’re responsible and our intentions are good, we can do this without too many horrible consequences. There is nothing wrong with being hopeful, Nat, in fact, I think you should focus on being hopeful. Do you think you can do that? Focus on being hopeful?”

“Yeah, I can try and be more hopeful and less scared,” I agree, switching my phone back to my other ear, not used to using my right hand with my phone.

“Good. Now, I believe you said you were horny? I think that needs to be a conversation we have face to face, so I’m going to move on to the next thing on your list. Worried and stressed? Want to elaborate?”

“I’m worried about the baby, of course, but I’m also worried about us,” I say, biting my lip.

“About us? Nat, are you sure you want to marry me? Are you having second thoughts?”

“Of course I’m having second thoughts, Alex. This is a big deal, but yes, I am sure I want to marry you. I’ve told you. I care about you and I care about our baby. I just worry that married life won’t work for us, and it’s not like this is something we can just go, ‘Oh, never mind, I think this was a bad idea’ down the road. What we do will affect our child.”

“You’re right, but I think that we can make marriage work for us. Yes, it will be hard, but I think we need to promise to talk to each other if something is bothering us. This won’t work if we don’t communicate.”

“And you’re right, too. My parents didn’t communicate and look where it landed them.”

“And we’re doing a decent job of communicating ourselves, I think. Are you okay now? Think you can save your breakdown for another day?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you for talking to me.”

“I’m your fiancé, it’s kind of my job,” he says wryly. “In all seriousness, Nat, we’re in this together. Besides, I like talking to you. Be it calming you down from a mental breakdown or just about breakfast.” I groan.

“No, don’t mention breakfast. I threw up at the smell of bacon.” Alex gasps dramatically.

“You poor thing! I promise, when you’re no longer pregnant and whenever you want, I will make you bacon.” I laugh and move my phone to glance at the screen for the time. We’ve been talking for forty three minutes and our wedding is in a little over an hour.

“I kind of stormed out on everyone an hour ago. I think I need to go apologize and finish getting ready.”

“Okay, I’ll see you at the chapel, Nat,” He says and I grin.

“I’ll be the one in white.” He laughs.

“See you soon, Nat. And remember, we’re getting married. A wedding is supposed to be a happy event. Smile, okay?”

“Bye, Alex. Thank you.”

“Always.” And he hangs up.

I sit there for a few moments longer looking at my room, missing all of my personal items and clothing. We’d moved most of my stuff to Alex’s apartment Friday night and yesterday so all that’s left is the twin bed with the sheets and comforter, and the furniture. Alex bought another dresser that is the twin of his for me (we decided we would share a room. I mean it’s not like we hadn’t shared his bed before…) and he already has a bed side table for each side of his bed. With I sigh, I stand and go back out to the living room.

Chelsea is gone, but Aunt Emily is here now and so is my mom and Kelly. Everyone is sitting in the living room watching What Not To Wear. All of them are dressed and ready to go and then there’s me, in a zip up hoodie and yoga pants.

“You good?” Cassie asks and I nod.

“Yeah, I’m sorry if I’ve been a bitch lately.” Avery snorts.

“You’re always a bitch, I didn’t notice a difference.” She jokes and I laugh.

“So, I’m getting married in an hour.” I say conversationally.

“Oh, are you now? Is that why we’re all here?” Sara asks sarcastically and I grin and push her shoulder lightly. She smiles and Avery stands up.

“Shall we help you into your dress? Or did you want to wear that?” I laugh and stand with her.

“I guess I’ll wear my dress, although, I am quite comfortable.” Avery walks over to the wall where we put a nail into it and hung the garment bag with my dress.

“Well? Strip. Now.” I frown at her.

“Can’t we change in my room?”

“No. Now hurry up.” I do as I’m told, self-conscious because of my baby bump. I’m not huge or anything, but I’m obviously pregnant without my sweater and a shirt on. Sara grabs the Victoria’s Secret bag with my strapless bra and matching boy shorts. They’re white lace and I must say, even pregnant, I look mighty fine in the set. The white is super bright against my naturally semi-tanned skin and I feel sexy in them. Not that it matters, as I’m not having a traditional honeymoon-or any honeymoon. Or sex. Sigh.

I’d decided against heels, not wanting to risk an accident, so I’m wearing a pair of white flats that match my dress. Once in my panties, bra, baby blue lacy garter (something blue from Cassie), and shoes, I hold onto Cassie and Sara (they’re on either side of me) as Avery stoops down and helps me step into the dress. The women at Satin and Lace hemmed the dress so it just barely traces the floor. I hold the top up as Avery zips the dress and positions the little tiara my mom insists I wear. It’s the “something old” required; she wore it for her wedding. Kelly bought my veil as “something new”.

As for “something borrowed”, Sara lent me a pair of earrings that I’ve told her on multiple occasions that I love. What I love about them is that they’re so small and delicate looking- and they’re real so I can actually wear them. I’m allergic to fake jewelry.

“And done,” Avery says, adjusting my veil, which we’d decided wasn’t going to be flipped over my face, but would stay positioned just behind my head. “Close your eyes- I’m going to go get the mirror.” I close my eyes and wait, deciding not to argue. A few moments later, I’m told I can open them.

I stare at myself in silence, awed. I look beautiful. You can’t even tell that I’m pregnant (not that hard of a feat, but still…). The gown graces my body perfectly and with the jewelry and hair and makeup- I just look beautiful.

“Oh my God, my baby,” My mom says, tearing up and I smile at her. “I’d hug you, but I don’t want to ruin anything. You look gorgeous, Natalia. Absolutely stunning.” I look back to the mirror.

“Holy shit, I’m getting married,” I whisper, ignoring the laughs of my family and friends as I’m hit with more emotions. Shock. Happiness. Excitement. Fear. Hope.

“It’s time to go, or we’ll be late.” Kelly says, grinning at me.

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