Alexander stares out the window, his elbow on the armrest, his fingers and thumb pinching his lower lip as he watches the world pass him by. We arrive at the hotel, both of us still in our own sphere of reserve.
Carlos parks under the canopy and runs around the car, opening the door. As Alexander gets out and holds his hand out to me, I place mine in his as he helps me get out. I let his hand go once I’m standing to straighten my dress. Alexander shakes out his fingers, taking a few steps ahead of us, and turning his back to me.
I look at Carlos and smile, switching to Italian. “Would you be so kind as to gather the rose petals I left on the seat for me? I’d like to add them to my collection.”
He gathers me in his arms. “You are so beautiful, sweetheart. It makes my heart ache to look at you. Of course, I’ll gather your petals for you.” He cups my cheek and then gently pushes me towards Alexander. “Go, your husband awaits you.”
Alexander firmly grabs my elbow, and we go into the lobby to wait for the wedding party. People come up to Alexander, and he shakes their hands, smiles and chokes every time. “Thank you, this is my wife, Isabella,” comes out of his mouth in response to their congratulations. I stay by his side, silent and with a polite smile, as a good wife does.
Soon the limos arrive; Anna and Christopher hop out, Rebekah and Sebastian close behind. Both our parents arrived together in one limo. And we are off, like a herd of ducklings behind the photographer.
His brothers, all smiling and chatting loudly while patting his back, surround Alexander. Anna, Rebekah, and I follow behind in silence. Anna knows that if she even hugs me or asks me how I’m doing, I’ll break. Rebekah seems lost. She doesn’t know me at all, and for once, she’s keeping her snide comments to herself.
Our parents follow at a leisurely pace behind us all. We arrive at a beautiful garden and the shots begin. One set after another, we pose and prepare ourselves for another picture. We smile and hold each other and take all the photos, as a good affectionate couple should do.
My dress is sticking to my body and I can feel the sweat pooling in my bra. It’s hot. I feel faint and desperately need water before I pass out. Anna grabs my hand to steady me as I get up off the bench. It’s a shot of me alone with the flower bouquetsset around my train.
“You need water and some food, Izzy. You’re white as a sheet.” She murmurs.
I nod, and she links her arm in mine to cover up the fact that I’m unsteady on my feet. We all headed back to the hotel to make the grand entrance to the dining hall. Anna is still holding me; the men are far ahead, talking and nobody notices I’m about to pass out. Once inside, with the cool air conditioning, Anna stands with me by the wall and our parents leave us at the dining-room door, kissing our cheeks and saying what a lovely couple we make.
Sebastian and Rebekah enter first; Anna and Christopher are second, and then Alexander and I walk arm in arm as the room erupts in cheers and applause. I smile and nod my thanks to strangers as we make our way to the head table.
I watch as people hug me, touch my cheeks with soft caresses, and tell me how lovely I look. Two weeks ago, no one knew I existed and wouldn’t care if a bus hit me. But now I’m a Rousso, Alexander’s wife.
Alexander pulls out my chair for me to take my seat and I look out at the beautiful crowd staring back at us. It’s all an illusion, all of this. A production of affection to fit the social norms that society deems appropriate.
If I weren’t sitting here at this table and was just another guest at this wedding? Not one person in this room would have noticed I even existed or even knew my name.
Alexander fills my glass with wine and then fills his own. Everyone is settled in their seats when he stands up, as he did last night, breaking wedding protocol as he holds his wine glass and taps it with a spoon, getting everyone’s attention.
“As I said last night, I’d like to thank everyone for joining us on our special day. We can’t thank you enough for celebratingwith us.” Everyone claps. “But!” He points around the room with a smile on his face, those dimples popping out. “If you would be so kind as to keep your silverware for eating and not to tap your glass for us to kiss.” He looks down at me. “My wife is shy.” He looks back over the crowd once again. “Plus, I’m starving, as I’m sure you all are. Salute!”
Alexander sits and places his glass of wine on the table, his smile firmly in place. “There, now you don’t have to worry about me trying to kiss you. God forbid my lips touch yours and defile them.”
I’m guessing that was supposed to injure me, but I’m thankful. I was worried about how I could avoid this problem, and he solved it for me.
“Thank you,” I whisper. He whips his head at me and glares.
“Are you fucken serious right now?”
I nod as I softly say, “Yes.”
“Jesus Christ, you are unbelievable,” he sighs, looking up at the ceiling.
He reaches out and grabs his wine glass, taking a long drink. I watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he empties the glass. He sets it down and reaches for the wine bottle and fills it once again, taking another long sip before setting his glass down.
I focus on the room full of people and realize his father is watching us. His gray eyes dart between us, eventually remaining on mine. I smile and tilt my head; he gives me a tiny smile and goes back to paying attention to his own table.
The dinner is being served, and this time Alexander doesn’t bother with the display. He eats each plate as it is served, never once touching me or making his usual anecdotes. We received the speeches with laughter and genuine words. Welaugh and smile, raise our glasses and accept the heartfelt congratulations made by all.
The tables are now being cleared, and I remain seated beside a stony Alexander. My hands are in my lap, watching the room. Alexander shifts in his chair, pouring more wine into his glass. He tilts the bottle towards me and I shake my head no. He grunts and pours the remaining wine into his glass, drinking half of it before he sets the glass back down with a thump.
They wheel the massive cake out in front of our table. Alexander moans and I stand as Anna reaches my side to take my hand once again. Alexander stands up and tosses his napkin to the table and rips my hand out of Anna’s as we make our way around the table to the crowd gathered in front of us. We smile.
He pulls me back to his chest, his powerful arms encircling me as he takes the knife, putting it in my hands as his warm hands cover mine. I can smell his wine-scented breath tickling the small hairs on the back of my neck as he rests his chin over my shoulder. We just stand there for a split second as he inhales deeply. His chest presses against my back, warming me through the silk as he moves us together to slice the cake.
We cut a slice; his left hand lets go of the knife as he shifts slightly to my side. His palm spreads wide as he presses on my belly, drawing me back into the cradle of his hips. We smile for photos, place our left hands together on the table as the photographer takes a picture of our ringed fingers.
