It's Complicated

Maria let out a sharp breath as she stood behind the door that would admit her into the aisle of the church. People were sitting just beyond the slab of heavy wood, waiting to watch her walk down the aisle, sparkling in her expensive wedding gown, glowing like a woman who couldn’t wait to change her name and life forever.

She hadn’t wanted the wedding in a church. She’d much more fancied the idea of being married on a beach in the Caribbean, with the soft breeze fluttering through her hair and dress, surrounded by fewer than ten family members, where the two of them could jump into the salt water after the ceremony. Perhaps it was cheesy, but it was just what she’d pictured.

But Harry had vehemently protested. He said that his mother would expect the ceremony in a church, and she would surely look down on the possibility of it happening elsewhere.

They had argued extensively about it, in hushed voices while Clarissa slept in the nursery that Maria had thankfully decided to paint mint green, and Maria had finally caved. Maybe they could renew their vows in the future, and that ceremony could be on a beach. Maybe it fit more.

She looked down at herself again, in the figure-hugging gown that made her look incredible. Unlike her worst fears, she had been able to get back her body after Clarissa was born. It took a lot of work and determination and restrictive eating, but she’d done it, and she loved the way she looked once again.

“Are you nervous?”

Her dad’s sweet Irish brogue came from next to her. He looked so handsome in his tuxedo, with his goofy grin, and Maria couldn’t help but feel a wave of love toward him. They’d never been close, really, since Maria was very good at distancing herself from whoever loved her, but since the wedding had been announced, he had plunged headfirst into the planning. He was excited to marry her off, she suspected, because he had never thought the day would come.

“A little,” Maria admitted. She was so used to showing weakness by that point that she no longer questioned whether it would be appropriate or not. It was better to own her feelings, she discovered, than to pretend they didn’t exist. After all, if she didn’t have feelings, then what made her human?

“I think everyone gets a little nervous before they get married. I was petrified when I was about to marry your mother.” Her father chuckled for a second, shaking his head at the memory. “I was about three seconds from running out the door when she burst into my dressing room in her slip and screamed that her dress was defective.”

“Defective? How did she not notice it before?”

“Because it wasn’t. She was just paranoid, and she was stepping on the fabric so it didn’t cover enough of her bosom, and she thought that someone was playing a cruel trick on her.”

Maria’s laughter rang throughout the hallway, and her father eventually joined in. “See? Tensions run high. But you’re here, without any mental breakdowns or panic attacks, and you’re about to marry the man that loves you more than anyone else in the entire world. Except your dear old dad, of course.”

“Of course.” Maria turned and grinned at her father, who stood only a bit taller than herself. “Dad, thank you. For everything.”

“I’d lean over and kiss you, but I’m afraid I’ll mess up your makeup.” Maria’s father snickered a little bit. “Just go in there and break some hearts, kiddo.”

Still smiling, Maria hooked her arm through her father’s and mustered up the courage to step in front of the many people Harry had insisted on inviting. She could hear their mutters as she walked by them, people cooing about how beautiful she looked, “like a goddess.”

She almost wanted to cry, but that was one thing that hadn’t changed. After the pregnancy hormones faded and Maria was herself again, she went back to her way of suppressing all tears, all the time. It was just habit, and it wasn’t a habit that she could train herself out of, no matter how hard she tried.

As she continued down the aisle, she caught sight of Louis and Jess, both with one child each on their laps, bouncing them up and down to keep them content. They were nearly nine months by that point, and it was shocking how similar they looked, despite their being fraternal twins.

And in her mother’s lap sat Clarissa. She looked absolutely nothing like Maria, save her slightly olive-toned skin. But with her light brown hair that curled in wisps and green eyes that looked blue in certain lights, she was certainly her father’s daughter. He’d inherited his personality, too, smiling and giggling all the time, her eyes sparkling with a love for life and the world that Maria had never embraced.

For the first time, Maria allowed her eyes to meet with Harry’s at the end of the aisle. He looked absolutely taken aback by her appearance, his face colored with shock, like he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life. Maria felt her face flush, and she hoped that she had on enough makeup to hide the embarrassment.

The vows were read, and it took everything in her body to keep her focus on what the priest was saying and not staring at Harry’s face. His tuxedo complimented his looks so incredibly, and she was positive the thoughts that were running through her head were not appropriate for the religious setting.

And then, it came time for the I Do’s. For a while, Maria contemplated the possibility of them writing their own vows, but she was too afraid that it would get incredibly personal and sentimental, and she didn’t want anyone in the pews to feel uncomfortable, so she dismissed the idea before long.

Soon enough, the end came, and Harry pressed a sweet kiss against her lips while everyone burst into applause.

And in that moment, seeing her mother clap Clarissa’s hands together excitedly, the baby bouncing up and down in her life, Maria felt like absolutely anything was possible. She had the utmost confidence that she and Harry could get through anything, given the hardships they’d already overcome, and she couldn’t wait for the possibilities to unfold.

The two of them soon were in the limo, after being pelted with rice for good luck, though Maria was sure they didn’t need the well wishes.

“Do you still stand by your decision?” Harry asked, his eyes bright and wandering over Maria’s body that was so wonderfully accented by her dress. “That we shouldn’t have a honeymoon?”

“Clarissa’s too young,” Maria reminded him. “Right now is the best time to bond with her. But we’ll do a honeymoon another day. We have the rest of our lives, don’t we?”

“Good point.” Without another word, Harry leaned forward and cupped her face with his hand, kissing her deeply. “We’ve got forever.”