In children's fairytales, the story always ends with a kiss from your true love, which miraculously breaks whatever dastardly spell the evil witch put on you. I was currently dreading the moment I'd have to kiss James; I didn't want the fairytale to end. (However, if some witch did put a some kind of clumsiness spell on me, perhaps I would like it to be broken. Maybe then I wouldn't trip over my own feet so much and finally learn to cut fruit.)

Another reason--the real reason--I was so anxious was because I was afraid the kiss would look so fake that everyone would find us out once. I was too embarrassed to admit that at 26 I hadn't had my first kiss yet, so the topic never came up in the preparations discussions with James and Eleanor. Even if I didn't know how to kiss him naturally, though, I couldn't imagine having to practice kissing.

The cringe must have shown in my expression because one of my bridesmaids Thao reached over to give my arm a squeeze and whispered, "Hey don't be nervous! This is your big day! Nothing will ruin it, I promise."

I let my face melt into a grateful smile even though my stomach was still doing somersaults.

After a couple more minutes of idle chatter and quiet nerves, one of the event managers Juwan finally came to usher us into the procession order, with James in the front with his grandparents and me with my godfather in a separate sitting room waiting for the ceremony to start. Juwan then rushed off to doublecheck the quartet.

It was times like this when I started missing my parents again. Instead, we flew in my godparents from Denmark whom I barely remembered from my childhood. Since we moved to the States, Uncle David and Aunt Truc, as I call them, have been helping to look after our old house, but while my parents often went back to visit, I haven't since primary school. They has grandkids now to occupy their time and it's been about three years since I hired a new groundskeep for the estate, but I still haven't gone back.

"I remember when you were just this big. You've grown so much!"

"Thank you, uncle, and thank you for being here today. It really means the world to me."

"Of course, dear. It's the least I could do after I missed your parents' funeral."

"No one blames you, uncle. How are the kids these days?"

"Little Cynthy still gets sick too easily, poor dear, and worries her mom every day, but Bi is an absolute darling! You need to visit and hear him. He's already talking in complete sentences."

"You call him Bi? That's so cute! I have a cousin on my mom's side we used to call Bi because his hair was always close-shaven."

David laughed. "Is that why Truc calls him Bi? Because his parents keep his head shaved? That's hilarious!"

We were still laughing when Juwan returned to remind me of my doom. "The music is starting in about a minute. I'll stand outside a signal when you can come out." He turned to me with a smile. "How are you doing, Claira? You ready? Do you need anything? Water? Remember our signal when you're at the altar. You look gorgeous, so don't worry about anything, okay? Just relax and trust me!"

Soon enough, the cello and bass started off the first measures of Pachelbel's Canon. By the time it was the bride's turn, my stomach was at my feet, and my head was floating above the crowd. To distract myself from the staring faces, I focused on the altar ahead where--my breath hiccupped in my throat--James was waiting for me with a cheeky smile and a knowing gleam behind his eyes.

Then the priest went on telling our fabricated love story of how we met as neighbors and eventually coworkers. Because most of the details actually happened and because the story was so believable, I caught myself falling for it too. Maybe I could pretend, just for an hour, just for today.

"Claira," James grabbed my hands. "This day, before our family and friends, with joy in my heart, I pledge myself to you as your husband, promising to love you, to cherish our moments together, for now and forever."

I smiled, hoping the bitterness wasn't obvious. "James, I promise to be there when you need me, to fill your days with sunshine, to comfort you and encourage you, to help you reach your goals, to be your best friend ever, and to love you all my life, with all my heart."

As James slid the ring onto my finger, I let my mind blank out with a frozen smile. I felt an aching pain in the small of my back where the train of my dress started, and it weighed down on me with the responsibility and quiet suffering that came with a loveless front marriage. If only I didn't love him, then perhaps I wouldn't be feeling this way.

"Having pledged your love and promise to one another today in front of all of your friends and family and by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

James stepped forward and grabbed my waist just like we rehearsed, but instead of playfully shoving him away like I did the night before, I closed my eyes and let him lean in to kiss me.

One Mississippi.

The painful aching from before had crawled up to my neck and across my shoulders, reminding me he wasn't mine to have.

Two Mississippi.

My hands, resting on his chest, tugged on the lapels of his suit jacket, desperately wanting to pull him closer--physically, emotionally.

Three Mississippi.

James dropped his arm into a crook for me to hold onto as we separated. The audience was on their feet, in polite applause.

"Congratulations! Friends and family, it is my honor to introduce to you: Mr. and Mrs. Crowe."