"...and do you, Elizabe--" "God dammit, Stan!" Elizabeth turned and thrust her bouquet into her maid of honor's hand and gave her still fiance an apologetic look, hoping that a reminder of her unfortunate situation so close to the moment he would pledge the rest of his life to her wouldn't make him rethink anything. He looked at her lovingly, and she thought that
"Sorry, everyone--just, like, forty-five minutes--open bar, help yourself, everything is fine!" She hiked up her dress and ran from the altar (a word that still brought back the cringe of adolescent rebellion), staring at the floor in an attempt not to see the judging looks of her soon-to-be in-laws. They had little patience with her situation. They had planned the wedding around the chance of this happening, though she had hoped Stan could be considerate to give her a break for a few days. Of course not, she thought as she threw her heels into the passenger's seat. As if having to deal with one man every day forever isn't going to be difficult enough. She hated thinking of Lawrence the same way she thought of Stan, but it was hard not to see the similarities of marriage and a pledged soul. They had been lucky to find an affordable location for the wedding so close to Stan's apartment. And a real honeymoon was out of the question, of course. She slammed the door behind her and stamped into his living room. She'd he damned if he had gotten an invite, even though it would have lessened the likelihood of an interruption. "Stan! What?" He sat on his couch. There was no doubt this was his asinine attempt to remind her who was still number one. He flinched a little at her raised voice. Even though she was forced to serve him, he still didn't like it when she yelled. "Ummmm, I couldn't reach the remote." She stared at him, wanting to break down, and reminding herself that if she cried, her makeup would be ruined for the pictures. A deep breath, and she handed him the remote from the coffee table. "Also, I wanted to give you your wedding present." He gave her a small, crooked smile. Her chest tightened and she felt her throat lump. After all these years...could he really be letting her go? She tried to suppress the hopefulness growing inside her, having been disappointed before. "It's on the kitchen table, it's a toaster."