Happily Never After

This was it. I was finally getting married.

I couldn’t believe it! It was my big day.

I had to pull an arm and a leg to get my boyfriend to propose. I had to pay off $30,000 of student debt just so he’d pull out a ring and get down on one knee.

And now we were here, ready to set sail on a cruise where we would get married and live happily ever after.

Don’t you just love when life works out like that?

I adjusted my veil and took a deep breath. I pressed my dress against my slim stomach that I worked so hard for.

I took a glance back at my best friend, and I gave her a smile. Tears started to well up in my eyes.

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t do it! You’re going to ruin your makeup.”

She came to my side and grabbed my shoulders.

“You. Got. This.”

I took another deep breath of tropical ocean air.

She was right. There was nothing stopping me on my biggest day.

We were here on a private island in the Caribbean, thanks to my connections as a journalist on the red carpet. We were living that Hollywood dream life, and nothing could be more perfect.

After all, what could go wrong on a cruise ship?

“Titanic,” my little brother said as he ran to the hors d'oeuvres reserved for the bridesmaids. He had no manners, and he should have been sitting with the guests. “Doesn’t this boat remind you of that?”

“Ugh,” I squinted my eyes at him. “Not now, Caleb.”

“You look stupid,” he said. “Why would you wear a mosquito net over your head? There aren’t any bugs in the ocean.”

“IT’S A VEIL,” I said, annoyed and in monotone.

“Yeah, but… aren’t you supposed to look pretty?”

My eyes were about to pop out of my damn head.

“That’s about enough of you,” my best friend said, slamming the door in Caleb’s face. He whined like a puppy through the door.

“Go sit down,” she ordered, like he was a dog. She turned to me.

“You look STUH-NING. Greg is going to love you, like he always does. And especially today, because..." she threw her arms in the air. "Ya look like a goddamn snack.”

Roxy’s Wisconsin accent came out, reminding me where I came from. I was just happy to not hear her say that I looked like a bag of cheese curds (her snack of choice).

Suddenly, my stomach started to sink. Who was I to be on this fancy cruise ship? I was just some random girl from Wisconsin. I wasn’t even rich. It was all about luck and who I knew.

And I was getting married to the love of my life.

I smiled to myself.

Yeah, there was no reason to worry.

My alarm went off on my phone. I pounded down two of my daily anti-anxiety meds and two antipsychotics with a gulp of champagne.

“Okay, okay,” Roxy said, grabbing my glass. “It’s ten til go time.”

I took one last deep breath of the ocean. I peered out into the vast nothingness. I loved the way the sky met the horizon. It faded from a bright, baby blue into a richer, more vibrant hue.

I couldn’t wait to stick my feet in the pure white sand on my honeymoon.

Just then, a ship appeared on the horizon.

What? We reserved this part of the ocean. Our Hollywood contact told us that no one would be allowed in or out of the harbors for a whole hour.

“Rox,” I said with concern. “There’s a ship out here.”

“Okay,” Roxy started. “I wasn’t going to say this. But I know it’s your special day, and you should be treated like a princess, but you can’t expect the whole world to shut down for you just because you’re getting married.”

“O-kay…” I started, scrunching my brow. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“I’m not trying to be like that right now, Italiana.”

“Don’t Italiana me,” I shot back. “It-uh-lee. That’s my name.” I corrected. “You’re not my mom.”

Roxy got quiet.

It should have been my mom who was here instead of her, and we both knew that.

“I’m really concerned about this boat, though,” I said, redirecting my attention. For that, I was glad the ship was there, but I just wanted to get through this day.

This very expensive day.

Roxy peered out the window with me.

“It’s getting closer and closer,” Roxy said.

“Yeah. Like, super close.”

The wedding band started to play, and suddenly, we couldn’t hear much at all.

It was time to walk.

But how could I walk down the aisle with a ship coming toward us? There was no way in hell that my wedding day was going to be a Titanic situation.

Stupid Caleb. He always has to get in my head.

“I’m going to go talk to the captain and stop the band,” she said, lifting her dress like a princess, and booking it down the corridor stairs.

The ship finally started to turn, eventually lining up parallel with our boat.

“What the hell is this guy’s problem anyway?” I said to myself.

Suddenly, I heard a fart come from under the snack table.

“Caleb!”

“You got me,” he put his hands up in the air. His mouth was covered in chocolate and who knows what else. He smashed it all against the window.

“Really, you’re going to smash your face against a window instead of coming out here on the deck to look at the boat? Are you trying to ruin my life?”

Jeeze. It’s like I reverted back to a teenager. Wasn’t this day supposed to be about me?

“Maybe it’s a dude trying to get your number,” Caleb said. “That’s how I’d get it. I’d get my own ship and say, “What those lips do giiirrrrl?”

I rolled my eyes and sighed.

“SHOP THE BEDDING!” a man yelled from the boat, waving his arms.

“WE DON’T NEED ANY BEDDING,” I yelled back.

“I DO, IN CASE I FIND A GIRL HERE. DO YOU HAVE A BUSINESS CARD, SIR?” Caleb yelled.

I smacked his arm.

“STOP THE WEDDING!” the man shouted again, this time from a megaphone. “STOP THE WEDDING!”

He waved his arms frantically.

Caleb and I exchanged wide-eyed glances.

“Oh,” Caleb mouthed.

I recognized that voice.

Oh, no.

“Oh no, oh no,” I started to panic. “Not today,” I curled up into a ball on the bed and began to cry, risking getting mascara over my beautiful white dress.

“I’m going to get Greg,” Caleb said.

“Okay,” I cried.

My phone buzzed. An unknown number appeared. It had been called 127 times since I’d last checked it.

“Italy, don’t marry him. Please,” a text message read.

The man on the megaphone?

He was my stalker.

The man I carried a concealed gun in my purse on every shopping trip. In my pocket for every time I left the house. Around my waist for every run.

I had flashbacks to when he tried to propose over text messages, when he wouldn’t give up changing numbers just to reach me, and when he found fail-proof ways to override my phone so that way, I had to see that he was calling at all hours of the day.

My stalker always threatened that he would come visit Wisconsin, but he never did. I moved away from him four years ago.

We used to date.

I thought he would be over this by now.

And how did he find me?

“Italy,” I heard him shouting in the background. “Italy! I love you! Stop the wedding!”

It was getting louder and louder.

Roxy burst through the door. “Ittles. What the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t know,” I ugly cried.

Just then, the whole ship violently shook, like a 7-magnitude earthquake.

Screams erupted from our mouths.

“Please follow the emergency exit signs in a calm manner,” the captain announced on the overhead.

“I love you.” It sounded like it was coming from within walking distance. “Italy. I love you.”

His ship was practically on top of ours.

Greg burst in through the door.

“Italy!” he yelled and hugged me.

It felt so right to be in his arms, despite the world crumbling down around us.

“If I can’t have you,” my ex started over the megaphone.

Greg and I looked over at him from our embrace.

He leapt on to our sinking ship, lowering his megaphone.

“No one can.”