Page 26 of Fighting Mr. Knight

I force a strained smile and brush a stream of water off my cheek.

Father Donaghy opens the double wooden doors to the chapel. It’s clear from the sound of shuffling and throat-clearing that the crowd has been waiting for a good show for a while and are restless to the point of being fed up. We are eating into their boozing time.

“Ready, ladies,” the wedding planner prompts, guiding us like children into the right order, with me at the helm. “Bouquets up. Heads up,” she commands in a tone fitting for army marches. “Big smiles. Wide eyes, Bonnie. Wide eyes!”

With a smile showing all my teeth, I force open my tingling right eye.

“Honey, you look like you have menstrual cramps. I need you to smile harder. Brighter.”

I’m scared.

The music begins to play. That’s my queue.You proceed when Father Donaghy is three pews up from the back.

Heads turn as I set foot into the chapel. The pews are full of hats, fancy hairdos, tuxedos and very made-up faces.

With all eyes on me, the nerves fluttering in my belly threaten to launch into a tornado.

Father Donaghy makes good speed down the aisle. I suppose this is just another daily commute for him.

The slow dramatic walk I perfected yesterday has gone to shit. My swelling eye won’t allow me to focus on synchronising my walk with the music.

I try not to fall over my feet, and blink away the water mixed with eyeliner and mascara from my weeping eye. Everything is clenched. Ass cheeks, stomach muscles, face cheeks. As a stress ball, I hold the bouquet in an iron grip.

Row upon row of people smile back at me, pushing cameras in my face.

Head up, bouquet up, try not to look like a massive tit.

My theory about sexy thoughts applies to weddings. Most people are in their own heads, dreaming about better sex than their reality permits.

I catch the eye of Kate’s creepy Uncle Dom and blink.

He winks, breaking into a salacious grin.

My skin crawls.

Halfway up and I turn my head ninety degrees. Michelle Allard, the supermodel. She’s friggin’ hot. Legions above anyone else at the wedding.

Or on earth.

Sean’s side all look like money.

As I approach the altar, Sean, Max and Jack come into focus. All three smile at me.

My heart breaks a little as I take in Max’s suit. It would have been similar to his groom’s suit forourwedding.

Jack looks sensational in a black tuxedo. Inappropriately sexy for mass.

I shuffle into the second pew and sit down, relieved that Becky is now the focus of attention.

Before I know it, Becky is beside me in the seat, and finally, Kate reaches the top of the aisleto a lot ofoohsandahsand incessant camera flashes.The whole thing must have taken a minute or two but felt like a feature-length film.

“You look amazing,” Nisha whispers to me from the pew behind.

I turn subtly and mouth, “Thanks.”

As Father Donaghy welcomes us, Nisha leans in and quietly wipes under my eye. I feel a few eyelashes fall.

“What happened?” she whispers as the choir launches into “Gloria.”

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