My dad and Oriana got closer to each other, held each other’s hands tightly, and leaned in to kiss each other.
That was it. The union was sealed. There was nothing I could say or do about it now. The voice inside of me began to yell and curse, berating me for not speaking out against the marriage.
I merely tuned him out and focused on what was going on. Dad and Oriana had broken their kiss, and were presented by the minister as the newlywed Mr. and Mrs. Summers. Everyone then began to exit the chapel, starting of course with Dad and Oriana, followed by the ring bearer and flower girl. Next was Princess Better, who was Oriana’s maid of honor, and she walked alongside Dad’s best man. Then the rest of us groomsmen walked with the same bridesmaids we walked with when we entered the church, which meant that I had to walk with sister Better again.
Once everyone was out of the chapel, Dad and Oriana rode in their own carriage, her bulk making the flimsy thing jostle slightly, while the rest of the family went in another. We were on our way to the royal gardens to take some photos before the reception. My father’s side of the family consisted of me, Grandma, Grandpa, and my Auntie Vanessa, while Oriana’s side consisted of Princess Better, Princess Marian, Princess Alexia, and Princess Tootsi.
As the rest of the family talked amongst themselves, I simply stared out the window, looking up at the sky.
All I could think about was how much my life was going to change, and how much coping it would take to get through it. I tried to think of the positives in order to lift my spirits, but it was barely working. Thankfully no one seemed to notice my less-than-ecstatic demeanor.
We finally got to the gardens and once everyone was gathered around, we all decided the different photos we would take.
And by “we,” I meant “everyone else.”
First, of course, were the bride and the groom. The photographer was all set up in front of a decorative gazebo, and the happy couple stood in front of him to take the picture.
“Okay, smile, and… There we go! Now let’s have the son come into the photo.”
“Come on up, Devin,” Dad called, beckoning me with his hand.
“Coming,” I say, putting on a warm smile and walking up, standing in-between my dad and…
…and my new stepmother.
The three of us smiled at the camera, and the photographer took several pictures.
From then on, everyone went in and out of the gazebo, taking pictures in different groups: me and Dad, the guys, the girls, the parents, the siblings, the cousins, Dad’s side of the family, and Oriana’s side of the family.
“Okay… I think that’s everyone,” Dad said, making sure that there wasn’t a group that was left out.
“Actually, honey, Devin hasn’t taken a picture with me yet,” Oriana told him.
“Oh yeah, you’re right. Come on up, son. Take a picture with your new mom.”
“That bitch will never be my mother.”
“Shut up! Don’t call her that! What did she ever do to me?”
“Devin?” Oriana asked. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I was just spacing out, is all,” I lied.
I approached Oriana, and she didn’t hesitate to pull me closer to her. She looked down at me and smiled, and I nervously returned said smile.
“Okay, you two. Watch the birdie!” the photographer said to us, and we looked at the camera with smiles on our faces.
The photographer took the pictures, and with that, the photo session was over.
Despite my yearning to just go back to the castle and stay in my room, there was still one more event I had to attend:
The reception.
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