I peeled my eyes open the next morning and looked at the alarm clock blaring its siren towards me. Four hours of sleep is definitely not enough, I thought to myself as I rolled out of bed and put my feet into my slippers. But with all these tasks, who knows when I'm going to have a chance to get anything researched if I don't lose a little sleep. Hopefully it'll be worth it in the end.

I dragged myself down to the kitchen for breakfast and a cup of coffee -- the first one I had to make myself since I moved here -- and then back upstairs to the computer, choosing to forego my shower until later in the morning.

I bit into my croissant as I opened the browser and started searching the legalities of marriage.There was a lot to learn, especially about parental matches, so I narrowed the search to parental matches with the company Match Made.

Apparently there were several other companies that provided this excellent service to parents.

There were a lot of pages touting the excellence of Match Made as a company and their success pairing people for 'lifelong partnerships,' but it took me almost two hours to dig up what I actually wanted: example contract terms and their meaning.

It was a small forum on a corner of the internet where no one used their real name, but there in black and white were people's contract terms and an explanation of what they meant. I had somewhere to start. I bookmarked the website and closed out of the computer, because it was fast approaching a time when I would be missed and I could smell Christopher's cooking wafting up the stairs. I'll have to try again tonight, I thought. Or maybe tomorrow.

After gathering my things for a shower and putting on a cute top with my favourite jeans, I wandered downstairs to the kitchen to find Christopher sitting at the table.

"How'd you sleep?" He got up to get me a cup of coffee.

"Not enough," I laughed. "How are you? And how are you always up three hours before I am?"

It wasn't really a lie. He would have been up three hours before me if I hadn't snuck out of bed to research contract terms at 6 AM.

"I usually wake up with the sun. One night like last night won't throw me off, but I can assure you I'm as tired as you are." He finished the eggs on his plate and gulped down the last of his orange juice.

"How could you tell?" I asked, taking a sip of my coffee. It was really too hot to drink, but I needed the caffeine.

"Oh, I'm not walking into that trap. But we should probably discuss this garden party my parents are throwing."

I groan. "Don't remind me."

That was one of the topics we'd discussed last night. His parents wanted to meet me.

"You'll be fine." He slid a pile of toast across the table to me. "I'm sure they'll love you. I mean, they picked you after all."

"That's ... actually a good point. But what if they don't like me as much in person as they did on paper?"

He laughed and shook his head. "I am sure they're going to love you."

While Christopher cleaned up his dishes and got himself a glass of water, I had an internal panic about his parents. I needed them to like me to keep up pretenses, but I also didn't want to grow the list of people I was going to hurt when I left. Hurting Christopher was going to be hard enough. I didn't need a bunch of family and friends to add to that list.

A deafening silence filled the room.

"So..." I finally broke our silence by taking my own dishes over to the sink. "What do I wear to a garden party, anyway?"

His shoulders tense at the question and I don't have to see his face to know he is probably wondering what kind of upbringing I had that I don't know how to put on an appropriate dress.

"I mean..." I took a deep breath. "I mean, I've been to a garden party before. I just don't know what your parents want to see me in. I really don't want to mess this up."

At least the last part is mostly true?

Christopher's smile was kind when he turned to face me. "I don't think you have to worry about that. Just throw on a dress."

"You clearly do not understand the struggles of womanhood." I shook my head and made a dramatic huff before making my way upstairs. Without Mel around to help me, I was sure to be a ball of stress about my outfit until we left the party, but I had to try. I'm an adult now. I can do things on my own.

* * *

When we arrived at his parents' house at two o'clock that afternoon, I was still worried that the yellow dress I put on might be too formal. Or too casual. Or too yellow. My heels only bring me up to the same height as Christopher, but I'm questioning them, too.

Are they too summery? Maybe wedges aren't formal enough. What if his parents don't think it's appropriate that I'm the same height as him?

My brain was run away with ideas of all the things I could have done wrong. Is this how everyone feels when meeting their husband's parents for the first time?

The sound of the doorbell brings me out of my thoughts and I press my hand into my thigh to keep myself steady. I was staring very intently at the door breathing as steadily as I was able when I felt Christopher's hand brush up against mine.

"To steady you." Christopher answered my unasked question, probably noticing my hesitance to accept his show of affection. But he was right. That's what everyone would expect. I laced my fingers in between his and plastered the most natural smile I could muster onto my face.

I probably look like a feral monkey.

No sooner had I settled my gaze back on the door when it swung open to reveal a man who didn't seem much older than Christopher. I'm guessing that's not his dad.

"Samuel!" Christopher gave his brother half a hug without letting go of my hand. "Allow me to introduce my wife, Aubrey."

He looked at me and winked. I had noticed his purposeful omission of my last name, which was our little secret for now. It was nice that he was letting me keep that part of myself.

"So nice to meet you," I said, shaking Samuel's hand. "I've heard a lot about you, obviously, but I haven't been married long so forgive me for asking: what is your wife's name?"

His wife, it turned out, was right behind him. She stepped around the small group to answer the question for herself. "I'm Soza." She offered me her hand and I accepted.

"Nice to meet you, Soza."

She actually seemed like the kind of person I could get along with. Maybe this party won't be all bad.

I struggled to keep up with all the name as I was introduced to various siblings, cousins, nieces, and nephews. Christopher pulled me closer as we slipped through a narrow door heading out into his parents backyard. I am finally going to meet the other half of the equation that set up this marriage, I thought to myself. But I have to keep it together.

"Don't worry," Christopher whispers in my ear. "No matter what happens, it'll be all right. You're my wife and I hold that very dear. They won't do anything. Plus, they're going to love you."

I shoved my nerves down and plaster a big smile on my face as we round a corner of the house and are met with a face full of smoke from the barbeque. When the smoke finally cleared, I could see the smiling faces of Christopher's parents.

"Mom and Dad," he said, hugging each of them in turn. "May I introduce my wife, Aubrey?"

"Very nice to meet you." I reached out my hand to shake his mother's, but she pulled me into a hug instead.

"Oh, I'm so glad to finally meet you. Another daughter! I can't wait to plan your wedding reception." She kept talking while I looked to Christopher, silently begging him to help me stop her.

With an almost imperceptible nod, Christopher stepped in. "Mom, maybe we can let her actually unpack her things before we start talking about wedding receptions and glassware."

"Of course, dear." She smiled and put her hand on his shoulder and then turned to me. "I'm sorry to overwhelm you, Aubrey. We haven't had a wedding around here in so long so I'm just excited."

She didn't seem at all how Christopher had described her. But I suppose sometimes we put on a face for the world that wasn't quite what we felt on the inside. I know a little something about that.

I didn't really get a chance to talk to Christopher's dad except to say the food smelled good. Before I got around to anything more substantial, Christopher was saying our goodbyes and leading me over to meet one of his friends, Josh.

"Hey, man!" Josh held up his drink to toast us as we arrived. "Nice to finally meet your beautiful bride."

"It's been less than a week, Josh," Christopher laughed. "It's not like I'm hiding her."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Aubrey," Josh says, turning to me.

"How do you know my name?"

Josh turned to Christopher, his mouth agape. "What is this?" Josh asked as Christopher turned beet red and hid his face in his hands before running them through his hair.

"I can't believe you didn't tell her, man!" Josh clapped Christopher on the back. "Chris, here, has been talking about you non stop since he met you. I've known him since we were six and let me tell you..." He leaned in close and comically covered his mouth with his hand as he stage whispered: "This boy's smitten. You've got yourself a good one here, Aubrey. I don't know anyone better."

What am I supposed to say to that? I push my lips into a smile and just say, "It's nice to meet you, too." 

~ * ~ Author's Note ~ * ~

Sorry for the delay a second week in a row I've had super busy Fridays but I should be back on track for another chapter Friday. See you then and thanks so much for your reads and votes -- I appreciate it so much. 😀