It felt like a war was breaking out with every step I took. I could see the static between the two sides, feel the electricity being discharged both ways as I held onto my bundle of white roses and kept a smile painted on my face. All I had to do was make it to William, tell him I love him, and then hopefully all of this dumb feuding would end.
Hopefully.
Even the priest who stood above us all on his pedestal looked worried, looking down on us with his almighty judgement, I could see a twinkle in his eyes that showed some degree of discomfort. I just wanted to be with the man I loved, despite race and despite class – why was this so hard? Why couldn’t we just love each other?
Needless to say that the vows were the easy part; I stood tall in my white dress as I pretended to belong in a place that would never accept me, but William’s glow and smile was enough for the both of us to get us through the ceremony. He told me he loved me, he told me I do, and he kissed me passionately. The room lit up with the sound of clapping, but looking towards my parent’s faces only brought the vision of two people trying desperately hard to hide their disappointment. I’d spent so much time trying to prove myself to William’s crowd I never thought what mine would think of any of this.
Why did it matter? I was in love, I was married to a wonderful man and anyone who didn’t like that could leave and not look back – still, my family were looking at me like I was a traitor. We’d never had much, we’d never wanted much and we lived by a ‘just-enough-nothing-more’ sensibility. Many of the kids I knew in school came from families who probably would have jumped for joy if they married into money, but not mine. My family weren’t the type of folks who dreamed of riches; they had their own culture based off honest work and made friends with like-minded people. I guess I’d betrayed that, all they saw in me now were the diamond earrings and designer dresses; I had to show them those weren’t me – I was still the Alesha they once knew, just in higher, more expensive heels.
“Congratulations,” I was greeted at our receptions with a variety of people who suddenly smiled at me when they wouldn’t have given me the time of day twenty-four hours earlier.
All those pretty, botched, fake, plastic-looking Barbie housewives were now hugging me; they were talking to me like I was one of their own and asking me about the honeymoon we’d planned. I never wanted them here but their husbands were William’s friends and so they had to be invited, too – it was my new world of politics, you had to smile at the bitches that sucked the dicks of your husband’s friends.
“What is Charlotte doing here, after that scandal with an engineer I’m surprised she dares show her face,” it looked like the Hampton housewives had a new target and a new reason to gather the pitch forks and light the torches.
I excused myself quickly; needless to say I wouldn’t be inviting them over for drinks anytime soon.
Now all that petty stuff that sent ripples through me and William’s relationship didn’t matter, his friends had to accept me, his society had to accept me, and if they didn’t they’d be insulting one of the most powerful businessmen to grace the Hamptons.
Besides, I could always throw another punch if some bitch overstepped the line.
To be continued....
Getting to the Love Below - A Sensual Erotic Romance Short Story from Steam Books Page 3