Round Three

A White Wedding To Remember

There's several reasons Marco decided on the Wedding Palace for our event – with this being his first wedding I let him run his ideas by me and went along with most of them. As I said before he likes to show off, and he's been thinking big. The Wedding Palace is huge – here it is in its entirety (I think!)


There's method to his madness though. With this being a double wedding, the guest list is massive. As well as that there's apartments for us to spend the night there if we so wish, and Marco took advantage by booking us both a room, staying there to get ready so keeping the tradition/superstition of not seeing the bride or the dress before the wedding. I'm not usually one for tradition but that one I'll go along with given what happened last time. He forgoes the comfort of his coffin for the day ahead while I stay at home and enjoy mine.

I get rudely awakened by the doorbell at gone five in the afternoon. Rising from my slumber without the slightest hint of drowsiness, I pin myself up against the door as I fumble blindly for the lock, and open it wide with my back flat against it.
“Come in!” I yell from my shelter.
It's Erin who pulls the door from my grasp as she closes it. “Hello sweety!” she greets as we hug.
“Hiya,” I smile back, “Do you want a drink, or get straight on with it?”
“No time for a drink dear, you've got an appointment in a few hours!” she grins, and taking the hint we go upstairs. The first thing I do is shoo her from the room as I put on the lingerie they bought me, then let her enter while I try on my dress. Once it's on however, we both look at each other with expressions of disappointment – it does show through the dress. Damn!
“Oh what a shame,” she muses as I take it off. “You need something blue though...”
Suddenly I get hit by a tidal wave of inspiration, and my eyes sparkle as I approach and run by her the zaniest idea I've had yet. As I hope, in reply she cackles with glee.
“I thought you might like it somehow,” I grin.
“Don't move!” she grins as she makes for the door, “I'll be right back with everything you need...”
“Hey Erin!” I call to her before she leaves, “Go crazy! He wants a winter-themed wedding, he'll damn well get one!”
“I'm on it!” she smiles on her departure.

We finish just in time, and head off to our ultimate destination. I find Emily and Nadia there waiting for me, and for a moment the pair of us can only gaze in awe at each other.

“My word...” she gasps, “You look incredible!”
“You too!” I grin in reply, “I thought you might go for that kind of theme somehow.”
She chuckles a little. “I remember seeing these dresses on the nobility,” she says, “I yearned dearly to wear one of them just the once...”
“Come on you two!” Frank bites, “Some of us feel the cold you know!”
“Alright alright,” I chide in reply as we move off, both of us allowing ourselves a long exhalation as we go. This may be my second marriage but it's my first big wedding, and on top of that there's another anxiety playing on my mind. As we approach though, the sight of Evan's Best Man trotting down the stairs to us tells me there's already a problem.
“Hi Joe,” I greet him, “What's up?”
He sighs angrily in reply. “Your darling groom has been a silly boy,” he grumbles, “He didn't think things through when he booked – you'll be lucky to squeeze your own guests in the aisles, let alone Evan's too.”
“Huh?!” I exclaim, exchanging looks with Emily. “So we have to go one at a time?”
“Basically, yes,” he says, before adding a remark that may shine light on the problem, “Still, that may be a good thing, if you get me...”
My heart starts to pound as I look back at him. “Is he here?” I check.
“Well I don't know,” he frowns, “I haven't seen him, but Evan seems happy...”
As he leads Emily and Nadia away, I tug nervously at my skirt as Frank offers his arm.
“He's long gone, remember?” he reassures me, “If he is here, he's Evan's guest not yours. You might not even see him.”
“True,” I smile as we walk onwards, concentrating on remembering my lines.

Eyes widen and mouths fall open as I pass them, including Marco's when he sees me.
“Is this wintry enough for you?” I tease with a sparkle in my eye – although maybe the contacts mask that, I don't know, I've never worn them before.
After briskly nodding, he dips his head towards my ear. “You look amazing!” he whispers.
“Thanks,” I grin, before eyeing his suit. “So do you!”
He mutters his thanks before it's time to get started. I'm so set on remembering my vows I lose track of time, and before long he's saying his to me.
He gets bitten by the nerves bug for a spell however, and bites on his lip as his gaze drops to the carpet of snow at his feet.
“It's okay, take your time,” I soothe as I speak. The poor guy's more reserved than me, and as he takes my hand I can feel his shaking.
“Never in a million years did I imagine myself doing this,” he confesses, “If you'd told me even a few years ago I'd be getting married I'd have laughed, but...”
Blood trickles down his chin as his lip suffers another bite. He looks at me with sorry eyes as he shakes his head, cursing to himself – he's lost his nerve.
“I'm sorry,” he utters, “You can rehearse until you're blue in the face...”
My heart goes out to him as I lay my hands on his shoulders. “Hey, relax, it's okay,” I tell him, trying to settle him. Before long his son Karl and Manuel are by his side as they join me, and as his Dad gives him a hug I turn apologetically to our guests, who are probably quaking with him.
“Let this be a lesson to you all,” I address them as I guess what the problem is, “Never make your first wedding a big one.” I then eye my Maid of Honour as I add as an afterthought “Unless you're as extrovert as our Hallow e'en couple, of course.”
I manage to raise a chuckle from the gathering, and it even seems to ease Marco as Manuel hands him back to me.
“It's only now I realise that,” he remarks dryly, licking his lips as he tugs at his jacket, muttering to himself. “I'm gonna do this, I will...”
“Take your time,” I remind him. He merely nods as once more he takes my hand, determination burning in his eyes before another feeling takes over as he gazes into mine.

“There is a thin line between true love and infatuation,” he begins, and I know immediately what he refers to but let him continue. “When infatuated, you only think you're in love... but the real thing is when you know you want to spend the rest of your life with that person, without ever knowing why... there's just something about them that glows, that pulls you in as a lighthouse would beckon to a lost ship... and this vessel comes bearing precious cargo that has been securely locked away for a long time. That lock has been forced and almost broken before, but it took your gentle touch to release my hidden treasure... That I promise you now and for all eternity, to grant you the love you once had and to never hurt you.”
It's as much as I can do to keep my tears inside, and as my turn comes I recite a poem I wrote for the occasion.
“In all the time we've known each other
Only now our love has grown
No fairytale this has been
Yet for us no less significant.

When all hope seemed lost you gave me light
Gave me the strength to go on
I give you now my promise
To stay true, return your love for me.”

How we manage to stay dry-eyed is anyone's guess, but with all the kisses we've shared before this one tastes the sweetest.

Once the emotion has died down a little, the cameraman switches into work-mode as the crowd disperses, some of them heading for the bar.
“Okay, let's get a shot of you on your own...”

“Okay, let's get some of you two together!”
Still recovering from his emotional influx, he steps over and plants a big kiss on my cheek.

“I need a sit down,” he complains.
“Aw, poor you!” I tease, before deciding it would make a good picture...

I then frown as he assumes his favourite position.
“Sit down, you said!” I bite playfully, but as he gazes up at me all I get in reply is a nice view of his tongue. “Put it away, don't know where it's been!”
“Oh yes you do,” he chuckles with a twinkle in his eye, “That's the best bit!”
My jaw momentarily drops. “Behave you!” I scold before breaking into giggles. I would say that man never ceases to amaze me with his humour, but...

“Okay,” the cameraman pipes up, and my cheeks redden as I guess he heard our banter, “let's get the rest of you in there.”
We both stand up and the fun ensues of getting everyone into a good position. I guess now's a good time to name everyone – you can probably recognise Marco's parents and my brother already, but moving along we have my Maid of Honour Giana, the wife of Evan's Best Man – she asked me to be the same for her wedding so it was only right to return the favour. The guy on the ground is Karl, Marco's son and Best Man, and my bridesmaids are my daughters Jeanette, Emma and one of my ex's daughters, Lorna. About the children... those four year olds left with Evan some time ago are now old enough to go to school. Our flower girl is Vicky, and our ring bearer is one of Evan's, who I consulted very politely before swiping him for our needs.

“Oh Marco!”
Too late I realise why the cameraman protests, and the culprit's arm flops suspiciously to his side as he looks about himself in mock-innocence.
“What??” he replies, but I'm not fooled for a minute. I glower playfully at him and nudge him sharply with my arm in response.
“Here we go,” I mutter to myself. The emotion's gone with a vengeance now, leaving behind the silliness I'd grown accustomed to over the years.
I suddenly gasp in surprise as he pinches my rear, before slapping his torso with my hand.
“Ow!” he complains, before looking around, “Assault!!” he cries before looking back at me, “On our wedding day too! What're you like?!”
“I could ask you the same thing!” I retort, but all I get in reply is a poke in the ribs, prompting a shriek that causes my poor brother to wiggle a finger in his ear in protest. “Bastard!” I bite back giggling, but realise that to be a mistake as it serves to encourage him as he approaches me.
“I beg your pardon?!” he says with a smile.
“You heard!” I retaliate, backing away.
“Come on you two!” a little voice pipes up, “It's meant to be a double wedding!”
I look up to find Evan and a crowd of his guests peering down at us from the nearby bridge, and apprehensively clear my throat. “Sorry,” I call back as I grab Marco's hand, pulling him away from the arch.
“We'll see you in the bar,” Manuel tells us as most of the crowd move off. Marco and I linger in the background as his guests accumulate in the little area, before shaking my head in disbelief as I look back at him.
“What were you thinking?” I ask softly as the next wedding progresses, after we've retreated to the bridge.
He shakes his head at me in reply. “I don't know,” he admits, “It all looked so nice, romantic...”
I cuddle up to him in a reassuring manner. “It is,” I smile at him, and continue to watch Evan's wedding without saying another word, my eyes fixed onto them to the point where I don't notice anyone else in the crowd.

After their pictures I get called into the scene for the big one... and quite a crowd it is too. When it's done I get my first good look at Evan and a chance for a chat.
“Wow, look at you!” I admire, before noticing for the first time the silver glistening in his ear lobes. His long mane of brown hair usually flops over his shoulders and ears.
“Thanks,” he grins in reply, “You look great!”
“Thanks,” I smile, before out of the corner of my eye I notice a little crowd gathering a little way from us. It's a group of three, two boys about Evan's age and a well toned adult... I can't see the latter very clearly, but the green skin in itself is eye-catching to say the least.

“Who are they?” I ask him.
“The two kids are Joe's twins, Chris and Andy,” comes the reply, “Remember what I told you about Chris?”
My eyes roll skywards as I search inside my mental filing cabinet. As I find the answer, I retrieve with it all the sorrow surrounding the boy, and it shows through as I look back at him.
“Yeah, I remember,” I reply softly, “Which one's him?”
“The beefy guy with the reddish-brown hair.”
“Okay,” is all I can say before I peer curiously at the back of the grown man's head, eyeing the leaves seemingly sprouting from his scalp. “Who on Earth is that?”
I don't know which is more strange; Evan's answer or the manner he adopts as he gives it.

“That's Dad,” he awkwardly replies.
At first I'm taken aback. “What??” I exclaim, “But... he's green!”
“I know,” he explains, “He had an argument with the wrong kind of plant life while doing some gardening.”
I rub the back of my head in puzzlement, trying to comprehend what he's saying. “Your Dad's a plant?!” I check, knowing how ridiculous it sounds – and that's coming from a vampire talking to her equally undead son.
“Yeah,” he confirms, smiling knowingly at my expression, “I know.”
Sadness tugs at my heart as I notice Chris having an emotional episode, and he sobs into Luca's chest. Evan goes over to him, and by the time it's all over Evan lays a hand on his shoulder before having a word with Luca. It's then he turns and sees me. Sensing an awkward moment Marco excuses himself from our presence, and as the rest of the crowd moves off it's just me and him.
“Hi Sarah,” he greets gently, “You look wonderful.”
“Thanks,” I smile back, “I'll be honest, I was only half-expecting you to turn up.”
“Well, I won't repeat myself,” he says, “I'll let Evan tell you what I told him, but I will say now I can understand why you ended it... I've been such a d*** to you all.”
My head lowers as memories I'd tried to bury begin to emerge. “Look,” I say as I struggle to retain my composure, “I know you couldn't help it...”
“It's okay,” he says, “Anyone else would have run screaming long before you'd eventually had enough.” He then smiles sadly as his rich green eyes gaze down at me, “You two deserve each other – you're both wonderful people.”
I can feel tears beginning to trickle down my face, and self-consciously dab at my cheeks before he offers me a hug.

“Come on,” he smiles as we break away, “Your friends will be missing you.”
We both join the others, who are by now finishing off their meals – one thing we both now share is the lack of needing to eat, so we haven't missed much. Although he takes me by surprise as he swoops upon the table containing the two treasures of the evening; champagne and wedding cake.
“Okay guys, how about something to wash down those tasty meals?” he grins as he fills the waiting glasses. Marco and I take one each, and we both watch in astonishment as Luca holds a toast not only to Evan's wedding, but ours too!

“Lose one Turilli and gain another, eh?” he acknowledges as he winks at Emily, before gesturing broadly with his free arm. “Welcome to the mad-house!”
A murmur of laughter drifts from the crowd before he continues. “I know there's been much pain from our family over the past few years, admittedly some of it by my hands, but I've learned a hard lesson since then...” As he speaks, he gazes sadly at our eldest Gino, as well as Chris, “Life is too short for regret, for pain... I can only apologise for my hand in it all, but now is the time to move on. Just as Sarah has by joining another lovely family; I'm sure she'll be just as proud to be a Staropoli as she was a Turilli.”
“I'm sure she will,” Manuel winks in reply.
“So with this I propose a toast,” Luca finishes as he raises his glass, “To the newly-weds... both pairs,” he says, grinning at Evan. I can't help but smile so broadly my mouth begins to hurt – just seeing Evan's face I can tell he's happy just to have his father back.

The night is still young however. I can tell Chris's appetite just by the way he hungrily eyes the cakes sitting on the table – he probably eats more than I used to!
“Oh alright, I can take a hint!” I tease him as I approach ours. I pick up the knife and gaze expectantly at Marco, but all he does is hover.
“You're meant to do this with me!” I prompt him. His response is no more than I expect.
“It doesn't take two people to cut a cake you know!” he retorts with that familiar glint in his eye. Shaking my head knowingly, I can't help but chuckle as I cut it myself.

Time for some quiet time as we sit with our friends, and I stare awkwardly at my plate. Forcing myself out of politeness to sink my fork into the slice, I brace myself for the taste I know will be awful but the conversation is enough to take my mind off it. That and the fact we haven't even eaten tonight – I will myself to finish just to fill the void in my stomach.
“Are you alright?” Marco asks with a smile.
“Ugh,” I moan as I grab the champagne glass, frantically gulping down its contents to wash away the flavour. “I need a proper dinner...”
“Yes, me too,” he agrees, “We can get that later, eh?”
I eagerly nod, but the mention of us leading the dance triggers a look of sheepish horror on his face.
“Um...” he begins. It dawns on me immediately what he's about to say.
“Oh you're joking!” I remark, but he quickly improvises.
“Come on,” he smiles as he clutches my hand.
“Where're we going?” I ask, but we stop only a little short of the area we've just left.
“We can still dance,” he says as he leads our music-less dance in the midnight snow, and I can't help but enjoy the coolness of the snowflakes against my skin as our feet disturb the otherwise serene white blanket, crunching along the patio as he gives me a twirl.

The rest of the night drifts along in a blur. Before long we notice some night creatures disappearing, returning and more leaving, and soon enough it's our turn; they were leaving - as we now are - for a midnight meal, and I return refreshed, content and ready to spend the rest of the night just relaxing. Marco seems to know just the place too, and whisks me away to the top of the palace where a rosy hot tub awaits.
I chuckle as I join him. “I'll bet this is the main reason you chose this place!” I tease as I settle down next to him.
He smiles a little in reply, but I frown as he becomes subdued.
“What's wrong?” I ask him.

He sighs sadly to himself before eyeing me somewhat warily. “When Dad asked what I wanted for a wedding gift, and I told him, he refused,” he tells me, “He said I look fine as I am.”
My heart sinks as I twig instantly what he's talking about. He's been making noises about surgery for a while, but even now for some reason I find it hard to believe he actually wants to go through with it.
“You do,” I try to comfort him, but quickly change my tack as I figure that isn't what he wants to hear. It's clearly been bothering him a great deal, and no amount of telling him otherwise will sway his decision. “But if that's what you really want, you'll have my support,” I finish with a smile, “So long as it's still the same Marco underneath, that's all that matters to me.”
He beams at me as tears trickle down his cheeks, scooping me into his arms, “Thank you,” he says, before the sparkle returns to his eye, “I promise I'll make a better kisser too.”
“Is that possible?!” I grin mischievously as our mood lightens.

... What? You don't expect details on what happens next do you?! Clear off, we're busy!