Chapter 2: The Wedding and the New House

I don’t know how Marcus convinced his parents, but the matchmaker came again, and besides generous gifts, the wedding money was indeed two thousand.

My parents were stunned.

The Taylors were truly sincere. Word spread quick in our small town; before long, folks at the diner were whispering about how Marcus must really love me.

A pair of silver bracelets, two sets of clothes for each season, a bright red wedding dress, four pairs of nice shoes...

Mom said the wedding money was for my own security. Counting everything, I had over three thousand in private savings, enough to put a down payment on a house or buy a used car.

Because of this, my parents were overjoyed every day.

The wedding date was set for May 27.

Since we were from the same town, and Marcus had gone all out insisting on marrying me—forcing his parents to give two thousand—the whole neighborhood knew.

It was also said that he wanted to build a house, saying that after getting married and having kids, there wouldn’t be enough space for everyone.

His mom called him stubborn, but still had to buy the empty lot next to their house and build two rooms as our new place.

With a fence, it was completely separate from the Taylor house. You could smell the honeysuckle blooming along the new picket fence.

I snuck over to look. There was a rocky patch nearby—if cleared, fruit trees could be planted, or soil piled up for squash and veggies, or at least chickens could be raised.

On the wedding day, relatives and siblings came to give wedding money. My little wooden box was filled with bills and coins, adding up to a couple hundred.

I couldn’t help but cry. My throat tightened, and for a second, I almost wished I could run back to my old room, crawl under the patchwork quilt, and pretend nothing was changing. It was a mix of joy and the bittersweet feeling of leaving home for good.

Mom cried, Grandma cried too.

Aunts hurried to comfort us: "It’s good you’re marrying nearby. You can come home anytime."

The two families were close. My parents thought a pickup would do, but Marcus insisted on hiring a band and a classic car, and having a big parade through town.

He also insisted on circling the block nine times, meaning everlasting happiness. Folks waved from their front porches, tossing birdseed and wishing us luck. The band played old love songs; even Mr. Jenkins, who never cracked a smile, tipped his hat as we passed.

He invited every household to the reception, saying there’d be pulled pork, fried chicken, even roast lamb, beer to drink, sunflower seeds and peanuts to snack on, and wedding candy to take home.

Neighbors brought pies, and the whole town turned out, laughing and gossiping under strings of fairy lights. These all cost money, but his parents let him do as he wished. It showed he wasn’t quite the workhorse everyone thought.

At least in the Taylor family, his parents and brothers couldn’t truly control him.

I breathed a sigh of relief and focused on the wedding ceremony. I let my sisters fuss with my hair and fix my dress until everything was perfect.

"The ceremony’s over. Escort the bride to the new house."

I thought I would just walk, but Marcus picked me up. Amid laughter, under the red veil, my face was burning. Someone whistled and my brothers cheered as we crossed the threshold.

"Lift the veil, lift the veil!"

I didn’t dare look at Marcus, and he didn’t seem to dare look at me either.

We were pulled out to toast the guests.

Halfway through, a young woman brought me some food.

"Third sister-in-law, have something to eat."

"Fifth sister?"

"It’s me. When we were little, I played with you, third sister-in-law. Now I know why third brother never married—he was waiting for you."

I almost spit out my food, choking and coughing.

Aubrey Taylor grinned and poured me some sweet tea.

"I’m not making this up. Do you remember? When we played house as kids, third brother always made you the bride and made me and fourth brother bow to you. If we didn’t, he’d throw a fit."

...Did that really happen?

Maybe it did, maybe it didn’t. Too much time had passed; I could hardly remember. Childhood memories in a small town have a way of blurring together, especially after ten years away.

"Third sister-in-law, you better keep third brother in line from now on. Don’t let him... Haha, I’m off to eat. I’ll come back to help clean up."

Aubrey was the youngest and only daughter of the Taylors. She seemed to have more to say, but stopped. There was a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

On the wedding night, I was nervous and shy.

Mom had given me some advice, but I was still unfamiliar with Marcus.

And it hurt—a lot.

But Mom told me to endure it, that all women go through this on their wedding night, and it won’t hurt after.

But I was really uncomfortable.

My body tensed, unsure if I should flinch or lean in, and I wondered if every new bride felt this lost. When Marcus came close again, I turned him down.

He said nothing and lay down beside me.

I turned my back to him and quietly exhaled.

In town, I’d married with great honor—so many gifts, two thousand in wedding money.

My parents had also prepared a generous trousseau.

I had no complaints about Marcus, just wasn’t used to being so close to him.

From now on, he was my husband. I should respect him, love him, and try to get along.

But...

I might not be able to do it.

I couldn’t keep worrying about what I’d do if he treated me badly in the future. Worrying about things that hadn’t happened would just make life miserable.

So when Marcus thought I was asleep and put his hand on my waist, I resisted the urge to push him away.

I drifted off in a daze.

Suddenly, loud knocking startled me.

I completely forgot I was married. In my panic, I bumped into Marcus’s chest, making my whole body ache.

"Na... Natalie, is it serious? Do you need a doctor?"

I shook my head.

The door was still being pounded.

"Third sister-in-law, Mom says get up and make breakfast!"

...

I was stunned.

Whose family calls the new daughter-in-law to get up and cook before dawn on the second day of marriage?

My face and nose already hurt, and now I couldn’t hold back my tears. I curled tighter under the quilt, feeling lost.

Marcus had already gotten up. The door creaked open, followed by a scream and the sound of something crashing.

"Is there no one at home?" Marcus’s voice was cold.

The woman outside replied weakly, "Third brother, it’s Mom..."

"Third brother, what are you doing?"

Bang.

"Ah..."

Screams followed one after another.

"Marcus, what are you doing so early in the morning?"

"You ungrateful son..."

Marcus said, "I came to call Mom to get up and cook for the new daughter-in-law. Mom, hurry up, or your daughter-in-law will go hungry."

"Ah, Marcus, let go of me!"

"Marcus, let go of Mom!"

"Ah, Marcus, why are you hitting me?"

"I’m hitting you because you can’t handle the daughter-in-law. Acting up so early in the morning—since you like getting up early, get up at this time every day. If you can’t, I’ll remind you. Late once, get a warning."

After saying this, Marcus yelled at his mom, "Mom, hurry up and get breakfast started. When has a new daughter-in-law ever come in and the mother-in-law sleeps in?"

He turned the house upside down.

My face and nose hurt so much I was crying, but now I couldn’t help laughing out loud.

After Marcus’s scene, no one dared wake me up to cook in the morning again.

As Marcus carried me over the threshold, I realized—whatever happened next, I’d chosen this. And I was ready to fight for my place.