{UNEDITED}

        It was finally here. The day I had waited all month for and panicked about for days on end, wondering what was actually going to happen.

        Today was the finally the day that I walked down the aisle. I would have to walk with my father beside me, a smile on my face as fooled everyone around us into thinking he was one hell of an amazing parent. I would have to look at Matthew’s family, convincing them that this was all our idea and we were madly in love with each other. I would have to engage with people once this was all done, listen as they offered up their congratulations and best wishes for the future.

        I had to do all that crap people did at weddings without even thinking twice about it all. I was nervous as hell and had already thought of all the ways in which it could possibly go wrong for me, I had even entertained the thought that Matthew wouldn’t even bother turning up and I would be laughing stock of everyone at the venue.

        I looked over at the wardrobe, looking at the bag in which my dress was hanging. My father had picked it out, I didn’t have a say and I made a point of telling him just how much I hated it. It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t long, and it wasn’t anything I would ever wear. It was ugly and I am sure my father had done it on purpose.

        The thought of actually having to wear it brought tears to my eyes. It was supposed to be the happiest day of my life but I already knew it was going to be the day from hell.

        “Morning,” I rolled over so that I was looking at the same voice which had greeted me every single morning for the last four weeks. I never got tired to hearing his voice or of being able to look at him. Mostly because I still couldn’t believe that we were actually together and, every single day, he would tell me that he loved me.

        “Morning to you too,” I smiled. I pushed my arm under the pillow as I snuggled back into it, pulling the duvet to cover my body.

        “How did you sleep last night?” he asked, his hand finding the bump under the covers.

        “She only woke me up three times, and they were all times when you decided you were going to wrap your arm around me. Definitely going to be a daddy’s girl,” I chuckled. Ever since I first felt her move for the first time a couple of weeks, she seems to be highly active at the times I want to sleep.

        She has moved a couple of times during the day but she is more of a night baby. I could sleep during the day but at night, she was determined to keep me awake. I didn’t really mind that though, I would sit and have conversations with her while Matthew was sleeping – I found that sitting in the nursery was rather relaxing and I would often wake up the following morning, have fallen asleep in the chair.

        “I still haven’t felt her move. I feel like I am missing out on something,” Matthew replied and I knew it was upsetting that he was never awake to feel her move or that he was never around during the day when it happened, but he still had to complete school by being there. I had decided that school was too much of a stressful environment to be in so had opted for work being sent to me instead, I just did it in my own time and then sent it back in with Matthew to give to the teachers.

        “Maybe, with all the excitement of today, she will move and you will finally be able to feel your daughter,” I smiled. I spotted the bag on the other wardrobe door which had Matthew’s suit in it. Since this wasn’t a proper wedding, we didn’t really give a damn about traditions and the belief that the groom should never see the bride before she walks down the aisle.

        It all seems like a load of crap to me anyway and, even when it comes to marrying properly, I won’t be one for following tradition. I won’t be the one who does the things everyone else does. Sure, my dream wedding is one where I get to be the princess for the day, but I don’t want anything massive where every single person you know is there.

        I want to be a princess with the important people in my life. I want my fairy tale ending with my prince charming, despite knowing there’s no such thing because no one ever really gets their happy ending in life. Something always gets in the way and then another something screws with all your plans.

        “I can’t wait for you to be a part of our family,” Matthew grinned. He was good at changing the topic like that, he could switch from one thing to the next in a matter of seconds. “My parents are planning some party for afterwards. To welcome you to the family.”

        “What you actually mean is that your mother is planning a party for afterwards?” I laughed. Vivienne had always been one for huge parties and making a fuss of things. It was one of the many things which I loved about her, she just wanted to make people feel loved and feel welcome.

        She had the mother to me that I never really got the chance to have. While John dealt with my problems at school, constantly coming in to speak with the teachers and prevent me from being kicked out, Vivienne was more of a listening ear. I told her pretty much everything, from how I felt alone in the world to how I was desperate for the love of my parents which is why I acted out in the way that I did.

        Not once did she ever judge me. She didn’t ever tell me that I was being stupid or that I needed to grow up, rather she just listened to me and was there for me when I didn’t have anyone else to turn to. She gave me the love I craved from my own mother but she seemed to unwilling to give to me. She was the mother I never really had and I loved her more than I told her.

        “Yeah. But you know my mother, she just wants to give you everything you never had.”

        “I know and I love her but, once the wedding is done, I will probably sleep for a while. I have a lot to catch up thanks to Amanda,” I said, putting my hand on the top of his on my stomach. His thumb was drawing small circles while the rest of his fingers were splayed out. He often did things like that, usually when I was feeling tired because it helped send me to sleep.

        “And I am sure she won’t be offended. Your health is more important than anything and even my over-excitable mother will agree with me on that one,” Matthew said. His look was serious, but that wasn’t surprising because he had been doing everything he could to make sure my blood pressure remained at a normal level. “She text me last night, after you’d fallen asleep, to tell me that she was coming over this morning.”

        “Why?”

        “She wants to make you feel as much like a princess as she possibly can.”

        ✖✖

        I had been sitting in the same place for an hour and half now. I hadn’t even flinched when Vivienne was pulling my hair far tighter than it was supposed to go and, the only time I moved my head, was when she told me that I had to move it. I didn’t dare move it without her permission for fear that it would ruin whatever it was that she was doing.

        “There,” Vivienne spoke proudly as she stepped back to admire her work.

        I looked in the mirror seeing that she had done very little with the make-up. A little lip gloss, some mascara and some pale pink eye shadow. Since I never wore make-up, it was simple but it was enough to actually make me look pretty, I was amazed that something so simple could be so wonderful.

        My hair had been curled and pinned up to one side with a few loose curls hanging down at the front. Vivienne had sprayed some glitter over and given me the most beautiful tiara ever to borrow for the day. She told me it was the same one she wore on the day she married John and she was keeping it for a day such as this one. Even though I hated the dress, the rest of me was going to look good for the day.

        “Wow. I look--“

        “Like a princess,” Matthew whispered from behind me. I turned to see him leaning against the door frame with a smile on his face. He was only half ready for the day but, even in just the black trousers and white shirt, he looked bloody good.

        “Now, let’s get you in the dress,” Vivienne stated. She walked over to the bag and pulled it out, looking at it in sheer horror. It was a plain white A-line dress with every possible part of my body being covered. There wasn’t anything decorative about the dress and it was, not even joking, the world’s worst dress.

        “How can any father expect his daughter to get married in this?” Vivienne asked. Her tone showed just how shocked she was by what she was looking at.

        “I only have to wear it for a couple of hours, then I can change into something else,” I paused as I looked at the dress. I remembered that it had been a little too big when I first tried it on, but now I was wondering whether Amanda would even go where she was supposed to go.

        John had already told me that she was growing at an impressive rate. She was bigger than was expected for a baby of twenty-one weeks, but he assured me that it was simply the sign of a healthy baby and there was nothing to worry about. It just meant that she was going to be a big baby and one hell of a pain to deliver.

        “Already got the tracksuit waiting in the spare bedroom,” Matthew joked and his mother joined in with the joke. She knew I would never be caught dead in a tracksuit but I was planning on taking a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with me so that I could change once we got to Vivienne’s house. There was no way I was going to sleep in my dress, anything could happen and I didn’t want to risk that.

        “Don’t worry love, the next time you do this, I’ve got the perfect thing for you,” Vivienne smiled.

        I knew that she could be trusted and that she would have nothing other than perfection for me since it was her job. She planned people’s wedding for a living, from where they would be married to the outfits the bridesmaids would wear to the food they would be eating. Vivienne was given ideas and she planned the best wedding a couple had ever seen.

        If I ever got the chance to marry Matthew properly, then I would happily leave all the planning in her hands. She wouldn’t fail to disappoint and she would make sure it made up for this sham of a day.

        “You’re in charge of everything if we get to do this properly. I thought you would have guessed that one mum?” Matthew teased his mother as a guy appeared, handing Matthew his tie and jacket. I knew that he was someone from school and he was one of Matthew’s friends but, honestly, I didn’t have a bloody clue who he was besides those two things. “Chloe, this is Marcus. He’s my brother from another mother.”

        I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at his description. Of all the things he could say, he had to say the worst of them all.

        “Almost as funny as your middle name,” I said when I paused for breath. He didn’t look impressed with my comment though and that only made it all the funnier for me. He had told me how he had never told anyone his middle name before. I was the first, and only person besides his family, who knew what his middle name was.

        “What’s his middle name?” Marcus asked curiously. He stood behind Marcus, holding his jacket for him as Mathew out his arms in the sleeves. With the entire outfit on, Matthew looked positively edible – I would never tell him that though. I am horrified that I even had the thought in the first place.

        “Don’t you dare tell him,” Matthew muttered as he stood in front of the mirror to rearrange his tie.

        “Has he really never told you? I assumed, you being his brother from another mother, that he would have told you that kind of information.”

        “No. You are the first person he has shared that information with,” Marcus shrugged as he sat on the edge of our bed. I turned to look at him, seeing that he was eyeing me from the bottom to the top. If Matthew saw him doing that, he wouldn’t have been his brother for very much longer.

        “Do you want to know something?” I asked with a mischievous smile on my own face. “It’s a secret though, so you have to promise not to tell.”

        “I swear Chloe, if you tell him, then there will be trouble,” Matthew shouted as he walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him for a second.

        “I am going to announce his middle name to the entire church at the end of our vows,” I whispered as an unmistakeable smirk appeared on my face.

        Ever since the day he told me his middle name, I had laughed about it and taken the piss out of him. But, he had made me promise that I would never tell another person what his middle name was. Apparently it was his best kept secret and, well, I have never been all that good at keep other people’s secrets.

        “You are naughty,” Marcus laughed. Though, at the precise moment he used those words, Matthew walked out of the bathroom and got completely the wrong idea. I told you he was a total twat when it came to me and people attempting to hit on me.

        “What have I told you about Chloe?” Matthew snapped.

        “Not to flirt with her,” Marcus muttered and I was shocked that Matthew had actually laid down rules where I was concerned.

        I can’t say I was surprised though. If it stopped Matthew from killing every single guy who dared to speak to me, then I wasn’t going to interfere with him or his bizarre ideas.

        “Matt, he wasn’t flirting. We were just talking,” I said as I stepped between the two boys before one of them did something stupid. I didn’t want my groom to have a black eye and I didn’t want my groom’s best man to have blood all over his face. It would be terrible for the photographs.

        “Talking? That’s not what it sounded like when I walked--“

        “Wait. She called you Matt and you actually answered her?” Marcus asked. He must have thought Matthew didn’t hear what I called but, in reality, he knew very well what I had just said.

        After telling him how much I hated being called ‘babe’ and he told me the reason he hated the name ‘Matt’ as much as he did, we came to a weird agreement with each other. We didn’t want to step calling the other by the name which they hated. He said that, for as long as I let him call me ‘babe’ then I would be able to call him Matt.

        It was a small price to pay just to use the name which I preferred. Matthew made him seem a lot older than he was and that he was some businessman with a lot of money. Matt made him sound more like a child and someone who still had their whole life ahead of them. Hence the reason I loved it, I liked to think that I was now his life.

        “Trust me, it was a fight. We had a whole argument about it. Didn’t we?”

        “Yes we did babe and we came to quite an agreement,” Matthew replied as he took a step closer to me, his arms wrapping around my waist so that he could pull me across the rest of the distance. He had a smile on his face as he leaned down so his nose was touching mine. “Didn’t we?”

        “Would you two get a room? You make me want to be sick,” Marcus heaved as Matthew and I pulled away from each other. I remained at his side, his arm around my back and on my hip, and my head was leaning on the side of his chest.

        “You are in our room,” I winked. I am sure I had never seen a man jump higher or run faster when he remembered that he was, in fact, in our bedroom and he had been sitting on our bed. Nothing had happened between the two of us on that bed, other than the sleeping we had done, but Marcus didn’t need to know that.

        “Right, could I have the bride back please. I still need to get her into the dress,” Vivienne scowled at her son.

        “Sure thing mum. She’s all yours,” Matthew kissed on me on the cheek quickly before he walked over to the door, following the same route Marcus had just run. “I’ll see you at the venue Miss Parker.”

        “See you at the venue Mr Jenkinson,” I chuckled before I followed Vivienne into the bathroom so she could help me into the dress. It was the worst thing I was going to have to do today and, if the dress is all I had to worry about, then I could actually enjoy the day the best I can.

        ✖✖

        The ride to the venue had been nothing but an awkward silence. I have a feeling that had something to do with the fact it was only my father and I in the car. I hated him and he hated me, there wasn’t really anything worth saying between the two of us. The silence was the best option.

        I had hoped that he would say something, just anything, but I knew it was pointless hoping for something which was never going to happen. If he was to open his mouth, then it would only be to criticise or insult me. The man didn’t know how to be nice to people.

        Then again, I suppose it works both ways, if I want a conversation then I have a mouth too. I have the power to say anything I want to say. Anything which comes from my mouth would be enough to start a conversation with him because he would have to reply to me. A pride thing I guess.

        The moment we pulled up outside the venue, I was shocked that my father had picked out it. I was an old country house, grey brick on the outside and huge windows showing you every single room. There was a gravel path leading up to the door and a lawn either side that with a huge marquee set up. That’s where I saw everyone standing, looking at my father and I, waiting for us to make our move.

        “I wanted to try to get something right for you,” my father whispered, offering me his arm as he began walking towards the marquee. “I know it doesn’t make up for what an arse I’ve been, in fact it doesn’t even come close to an apology, but you deserve to be happy.”

        “It wouldn’t matter if you did apologise. It’s too late for there to be any reconciliation between the two of us. You know that, right?” I replied as we reached the entrance. The music began playing and my father led me down the aisle. The people who were there, taking pictures of the moment and smiling like it was the best day of their life. Even my mother had managed to find her smile for the day.

        “I know darling. I am genuinely sorry for being such a shit father though. I should have tried harder and perhaps we wouldn’t be here now,” he sighed in defeat.

        I had never known my father to give up on anything, even if he knew he wasn’t going to win, he still liked to push his luck and see just how far he could go. The fact my father had actually given up and wasn’t going to be pursuing me anymore was actually something of a relief.

        It meant that, for the first time ever in his life, he had accepted defeat. He had understood that I didn’t want him in my life and that I was never going to forgive him. No matter how hard or how many times he begged for forgiveness, it wasn’t ever going to happen.

        “Perhaps,” I muttered. A wave of relief washed over me once we reached the front and he handed me over to the boy he was signing the rest of my life to. The thought of that didn’t bother me anymore though, not like it did when my father first told me it was going to be happening.

        In a weird way, I am kind of glad that my father did what he did. Had he not interfered and let me deal with this in my own way, then I wouldn’t be with Matthew now and I would still hate him. He would still be begging me to keep his secret and Lydia would still be chasing my arse down, demanding to know the truth.

        That still didn’t mean that I thought this was right though. I knew this was wrong in every sense of the word and I definitely knew that it wasn’t the way to deal with pregnant teenagers, it was just a way to ensure you lost all rights to be a parent and to make your own child hate you.

        “Do what I could never do and look after her. Protect her and love her with everything you have,” my father said and I was sure I could see tears in his eyes as he walked over to where my mother and Jason were sitting. Another thing my father never did. Cry.

        He always said that tears were a sign of weakness and, the only time you cried, was if you wanted to be laughed off the face of the planet. I had grown to believe that he didn’t have tear ducts, that he had had them surgically removed as a child simply so he couldn’t feel any sort of human emotion.

        “Ladies and gentlemen,” the registrar spoke, her voice was almost angelic, which was ironic considering her job. “We are here today to celebrate the marriage of Chloe Parker and Matthew Jenkinson. Marriage is, not only act of God, but also an act of love. It bonds a couple in way which only they understand. They will share their love, their hopes, their dreams, and their lives.”

        I didn’t really hear anything else. I was too busy losing myself in Matthew’s eyes to want to listen to what she had to say. All I could see was happiness, pure happiness and sheer joy. It made me feel something don’t know how to describe. I was the reason for all of his happiness.

        Long gone were the fears of being a father and the worries of sharing his life with me. He had been stress-free since our trip at the beginning of the month and he had only continued to change, surprising me at every little turn. He wasn’t the same person he was when he first discovered the pregnancy.

        He was different. Different in way which made him a better person and I wasn’t the only person to have noticed it. Everyone was talking about how he had changed and how much they loved the improvements in his attitude. They always thanks me but, honestly, the one they should be thanking is Amanda. She’s the one who brings out the good and gives him a reason never to stop smiling.

        The day she is born will be the day his smile never disappears. When he can hold her for the first time, he will finally understand everything it means to be a father and he will regret ever telling me to get an abortion. He will realise everything wrong with him telling me to inform his child that he was dead.

        “Chloe?” I heard my voice being called.

        “Huh? What? Yeah?” I said. Everyone in the marquee erupted into laughter while I tried to work out what the hell was going on. Other than the fact I had spent all my time doing nothing besides staring at Matthew, ignoring everything else which was happening around me.

        “Your vows? I understand you have your own?” the registrar said, obviously repeating herself. I looked up to see that she was looking more amused than anything.

        “Well, I wrote mine, but I’m pretty sure Matthew had help from his brother from another mother over there,” I chuckled, pointing over to where Marcus was sitting. He suddenly sunk even lower into his seat, so far in fact that he may as well have been sitting on the floor rather than the chair. “Matthew, I remember a time when I hated you and would have happily murdered you, now I just remember the good times. I remember the time when gave me piggy back across the beach because I was too lazy to walk, I remember the time you shouted at our fifty year old neighbour because you thought he was hitting on me--“

        I was forced to pause as people looked at Matthew, trying to work out whether or not I was being serious. Matthew was looking at the ground, slowly turning an incredible shade of red.

        “It’s a true story. Poor old Mr Williams was only asking for his grandson’s football back. Now he won’t even say hello to me when he sees me,” I shrugged, confirming that I was telling the truth and all the looks of confusion slowly turned to looks of amusement. I wondered how many of them were imagining Matthew shouting at a fifty year old man for hitting on his eighteen year old pregnant soon-to-be wife.

        “Yes. I did. I shouted at a fifty year old man because, from where I was standing, it looked like more than a harmless question,” Matthew defended himself to the people. “Now, can we please just get through the rest of this without any interruptions?”

        “Er, where was I?” I questioned myself, looking down at the piece of paper to find the place I was before I ended up telling people a story. “Yes. That’s it. I remember when he took me to Paris for the weekend for my birthday, I remember when he told me I had actually passed all of my coursework despite doing it from home and with very little help and, most importantly, I remember when he first told me that he loved me. When I think it, it’s all the fighting we did beforehand which have shaped us into the people we are now and I wouldn’t want to do anything differently. I love my life as it is now because it’s perfect. Matthew Albert Jenkinson, I love you and I will be proud to call you my husband.”

        While everyone else was wiping away a few stray tears which had fallen, with the single people wondering what it would be like for them to be able to say that to someone and the married people remembering back to their own wedding day, Marcus was the only one stifling a laugh at the announcement of Matthew’s middle name.

        Even I hadn’t been able to say it with a straight face, but only Matthew had seen the slight smirk which appeared when I said his name aloud for everyone to hear. I didn’t care though because I was going to be married to him and I knew that he loved me. He will forgive me without a second thought.

        “Now, for your vows Matthew,” the registrar said, clapping her hands together happily.

        “Chloe. What is there to say about a girl so wonderful she made me the person I am today? Honestly? I don’t think there is anything which can be said. No amount of words will ever be able to describe how I feel for you and no number of adjectives will even come close to emphasising the love I hold in my heart for you,” he paused for a moment, looking up so that he was looking directly into my eyes, “you becoming my wife is only the beginning of a very long life together. I promise I will always be there, prepared to carry you anywhere when you’re too lazy to walk or to surprise you with trips to places you’ve always wanted to go. I promise that, during sickness and health, for richer and for poorer, I will never leave your side. You are the single best thing to happen to me and I love you so much. You are my everything and I hope you never forget that.”

        “Have we got the rings?”

        “Oh. Shit. I think I may have left them--“ Marcus started with a serious face, patting himself all over as he tried to phone the boxes he was supposed to have on him.

        He did that for a couple of seconds before an arrogant smirk appeared on his face and he pulled the boxes from the inside of his jacket, handing my ring to Matthew and his to me. “Only joking mate. I would never forget something as important as that.”

        “It wouldn’t surprise me to be honest. Didn’t you forget your own father? Left him at a bus stop?” Matthew retorted.

        “It was in the middle of a supermarket actually,” Marcus muttered, quickly retreating back to his seat with a grim look on his face. He was obviously used to always having one over on Matthew and he was impressed that, this time at least, he had something to come back with.

        “Chloe. Repeat after me,” I nodded at her words, quickly returning my attention back to Matthew, his ring hovering close to his finger. “I, Chloe Alison Susan Eileen Parker, do take thee, Matthew Jenkinson, to be my lawful wedded husband.”

        “I, Chloe Alison Susan Eileen Parker, do take thee, Matthew Albert Jenkinson, to be my lawful wedded husband.” I grinned as I pushed the ring down his finger until it was sitting perfectly above his engagement ring. I could see that he was doing his best not to laugh at the fact I had managed to slip his middle name in there again.

        “And Matthew. Repeat after me,” Mathew nodded at her with the biggest smile ever on his face. “I, Matthew Jenkinson, do take thee, Chloe Alison Susan Eileen Parker, to be my lawful wedded wife.”

        “I, Matthew Jenkinson, do take thee, Chloe Alison Susan Eileen Parker, to be my lawful wedded wife.” he said as he did the same with my ring I had done with his. He slid it down until it was sitting perfectly above my engagement ring and I couldn’t help but admire the ring.

        Apparently my mother picked the rings out and, despite wanting to murder her, I had to admit that she had some good taste in rings. Matthew’s was a simple silver ring with our names engraved on the inside of the band while mine was a gold ring with red stones embedded around the outside, with our names on the inside of the band. They were perfect really, especially with the smaller detail of our name being on them.

        “If there are no objections,” the registrar paused for a moment, but no one spoke up and put a stop to what she was about to say, “in that case it is my greatest of pleasures to announce that you are now husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”