I'm pacing back and forth in the bride's room trying to get a hold of the woman responsible for my suffering, My Mother.

A few months ago she had been so insistent on me getting married because I was getting too old.

Mind you!... I'm only 27 and I have a pretty demanding job, I never have time for romance much more me but she wanted me to to get married.

And somehow I agreed, Honestly I was tired of her nagging again and again. This is all because all her friends have grandkids and she doesn't.

This woman is aware of my situation besides the demanding job, I can't have children but she doesn't care.

I once brought up adoption but she was absolutely repulsed by the idea of having children and no man in my case that she dropped the marriage thing for a while.

But it never lasted.

3 months ago she found a single father who is a police officer and ok with the fact that I'm practically barren.

I agreed of course also because I could see a wonderful partnership between us in terms of business considering that I'm a social worker and my business constantly links up with police officers and maybe that would make my mother stop worrying about me so much too, but we couldn't meet because of the outrageously busy schedules we had but I met his mother and daughter and they were wonderful.

His Daughter Raine is 6 and the sweetest thing I have ever seen. I almost cried when I had to leave her and his mother is a cheerful chatterbox.

Even if he was going to be the aloof kind with these two I knew I was going to be fine and happy.

This woman seriously won't answer my calls where is she. The people here keep calling me Shirley and I'm seriously tired of correcting them.

They bring the dress over, it's almost time.

" Ma'am we have brought your dress it's almost time please let us help into it..." the stylist

( this old woman went all out she even got stylists too)

" ok lemme try my mother one last time, ok ?"

I plead with them guiltily because I have been dragging this out for some time.

The call finally goes through

" mom! Where are...?" I didn't even get to finish

" Lala momma is gonna have to call you back I'm dealing with a real Karen down here, love you"

And she hung up on me.....

WHAT THE HECK DOES SHE MEAN SHE IS DEALING WITH A KAREN WHEREAS IM ABOUT TO GET MARRIED?!!!!!

She should have at least shared the itinerary with me. This is why black people don't do arranged marriages. Ok maybe I'm over thinking I just need to take a deep breath and get to the altar. She is going to be all day if she is going to be arguing with someone.

The dress they brought was too many sizes smaller, they brought My Dress later and they got me to the altar since the only woman who was responsible for that was missing.

Walking down the aisle I'm an ocean of nerves I'm practically trembling. I can't look at anyone in the crowd I'm scared I'll faint. I'm avoiding looking at the man I know nothing about what if he doesn't like my size? What if he doesn't want to get married anymore? What if he is abusive? What if he is a jerk? Much better! What if he doesn't know I'm barren?

That would be the ultimate kicker

I get to the altar.

I finally look around and the reception looks outstanding. There is no way my mother or even me could afford this.

Did his mother pitch in?

My hand is passed to him. His giant hand envelopes mine easily that doesn't usually happen. I'm a big girl with not so delicate hands that also happen to be chubby.

I'm astonished by the size of his hand, I haven't looked up to look at this man.

I see ink peeking out from his wrist, ( I heard he is a decorated officer , could he have decorated his body as well? If so... dear lord I may be in trouble. I love tattooed men!)

The weird historical music stops playing abruptly and the priest begins

" dearly beloved..."

I zone out again, ( his hands are too pretty to be those of a guy who runs around the hood putting guys away and fighting crime, they look like a lawyer's hands.... Or those of someone who flips paper for a living. These hands probably get paper cuts. Next to his mine look like a man's hands)

Before I can stop myself my head is flying upwards my eyes colliding with his. This doesn't fed real at all. This man..... he can't be a police officer. His skin is clear and tanned. He is not black or am I thinking too much.

He has long black hair, front half tied into a pony at the back and the rest resting on his shoulders. He has a perfect hairline one that could complete with mine and I have way too healthy African hair. His brows are thick but look like they have been worked on by an artist.

His lashes are dark and thick blinking once in a while releasing those grey lances and clear whites. He has that perfect white mans nose. His lips.... A real problem for me.

A thin upper lip and a juicy lower lip so pink they almost look like candy.

He smiles looking at me,  as if he can see me checking him out under the itchy veil. He squeezes my hand as his one finger teases my palm.

I'm immediately embarrassed, I turn my head to the crowd and everyone is looking at me expectantly and I realized I haven't been paying attention to my own wedding.

I instantly want to die.

Hie guys this is my new story

I wanted to write it as a CS but it wasn’t working so I decided to make it a novel

This book is also available on watt pad

Please like share comment support and follow for more as I strive to bring you more great stories for leisure

That are addictive as well

But I’m still learning so please be a little patient

Argh five hundred words

I’m so close to tears why is this app like this

Wattpad doesn’t even care

By the way please also rate my writing and compare with my Chat stories so that I know which ones to focus on

My annoyance cannot be mistaken, everyone in the wedding hall can feel the irritation seeping out of me just waiting to crush them.

This marriage for me is the absolute definition of a nightmare. To begin with I had absolutely no ambition of settling down anytime soon or of pleasing my hypocritical family but they got themselves in a bit of a wedge. They had promised a marriage between my brother and their only daughter however my brother suddenly brought home a wife 5 years ago . Luckily the matter could be delayed because Shirley had to go abroad for university and for four years things were great until last year she came back after completing her studies and I was under attack like it was my fault.

My refusal was considered being unreasonable and They decided to strike me where it really hurts and that was sabotaging the projects for my starting company. That's why I'm here because I love my work more than I actually needed a wife.

The horrible music suddenly starts and I know she is here, the doors burst open and the press immediately starts recording the bride. Shock instantly paralyzed my body as soon as the bride came into view.

That's not Shirley. No way.

I marvel at the disaster that's pending. My eyes stare at her once more, there has never been such an obvious difference between people. People instantly move to enquire but I wave them no. Standing before me is a big African woman whose head is just below my chest.

She is so short. But then again I'm a giant.

Her head is bowed and I can feel her little hand shaking in mine.

Is she nervous?

I wonder is this some kind of ploy from the Bennetts or something is wrong here.

Her head shoots up, I can feel her looking at me studying me. She doesn't say anything she is just looking at me

I feel my ears heating before my cheeks

" Mr Forder do you take this young lady to be your wife? In ...." The priest asks me as per ritual but suddenly this feels real and true

" I do..." I'm quick to say hoping to get a reaction, she doesn't even flinch

" Young Ms do you take him to be your husband? In sickness and in health, in riches and when poor, for all the days of your life till death do you part?" The priest asks her

She doesn't reply, she's not paying attention she is still looking at me. I'm satisfied with this. I shouldn't be. This could be mockery from the Bennetts. I look back at her and the heat travels to my face and I smile and tease her. She's instantly brought back and immediately embarrassed. She turns to the crowd confused.

I do something I have never done before, I tig on this woman's hand and ask her gently

" do you not take me to be your husband?" I ask with my head bowed to look at her

She is startled by the question n instantly panics.

" no I do!..." she replies

We put on the rings and it's finally time. I open the veil and I almost want to die .

She is so cute, her eyes aren't so big but they are bright, her cute little African princess nose, her thick upper lip and cute lower lip. Before I know it I'm kissing her. What is happening?

She is shocked, I bite her lower lip and she gasps allowing me to completely kiss her. The excitement from the soft thick lips travels straight to my cock. She hits on my shoulder out of breath and I'm reminded of the place and situation.

We are quickly ushered to sign the contracts and I couldn't be happier when I saw they required us to fill out our names. Our names weren't preprinted! Today has to be all about me. The luck is outrageous.

As soon as the documents are signed I have one of my friends quickly take the to the city hall and have them officially recorded into the system.

Whether mistake or mockery I'm not letting this gorgeous woman out of my sight!