The (Anti) Wedding Party

It doesn’t matter anymore; what matters is that Hannah loves me enough to want to marry me, and how could I say no to that?

‘I’m getting married,’ I allow myself to squeal. Considering I never in a million years thought this day would come, nor wanted it to, it now all seems rather exciting and special, like someone actually wants to marry me.

I take in the vintage lace-style wedding dress that is gathered

wedding puns today, apparently. Goosebumps prickle my skin

pinkie toes, what with the draft in this over-the-top, dramatic and ancie

-in-law, I was under no circumstances allowe

whirlwind romance, not when her family are taking up one side of the castle cathedral while Mum, Alex and Charlie are standing on the other side cheering us on. Mum with tears in her

I glance in the slightly smeared glass of the archaic mirror with a gold leaf border, and sure enough, my lips are blue.

Romance was not a word commonly uttered in my house, with my

, marriage was not something I dreamt about nor had time for, but then as the saying goes, ‘when you know, you know.’