The Struggles of Being a Teenage Wife

Chapter 2

I spend the whole night awake, thinking about Zach Taylor, and death.

I want to talk to him, see how he's taking the new reality. After all, I know what it means to lose a parent. What would I say to him? It's not like this new arrangement makes us best friends now.

He must think this is as ridiculous as I do. How can a clause like that still exist? I'm mortified. I can't face him or Sarah tomorrow; my mom and I have to go help them with the funeral for John, but I'm too angry and embarrassed. Mostly with my mom though, and my dad.

It's like I don't even know my own parents anymore, this can't be something my dad would have wanted for me. He was always so proud of my ambition and lofty dreams. He didn't exactly approve of Stanford... but I know an arranged marriage at 16 was not in his plans.

Then again maybe it was, and he just didn't anticipate John dying so quickly after him. He didn't anticipate we'd have to do this so soon. My mom did say they would have told me about it when I turned eighteen, so maybe it was a wish to fulfill when I was graduated from college, years later, years more mature and experienced.

I finally fall asleep and dream of death, both real and figurative.

***

I don't want to ever go to another funeral again. I know that's a naive thought. Of course I'll have to go to another funeral. Maybe I should just ask that the next time please oh please won't be this soon.

My mom hasn't brought up the company or the marriage again, and I don't know if it's because now's not the time or because she thinks I already agreed to it. Because I technically haven't, although I know I will. I have no other choice.

It's been four days since John died and here we are at his funeral. I still haven't seen Zach. I've said maybe a sentence to Sarah, and she hugged me. She hugged me and I want to know what she's thinking, about everything. I want to know why Zach hasn't been here for his mother.

I'm pissed at my mom, but no one should have to grieve by themselves.

We are just arriving at the cemetery, Sarah gets out of the car first. My mom and I follow closely. She hasn't stopped crying, but she doesn't push away our support. It's just like when my father died, and it's too much. It's too much pain and so I cry too. I cry and not just because of John, but because of everything wrong. How did everything get so wrong?

The rest of the town cars arrive and guests begin to follow us and John to the plot. It's on the other side of my father's  and grandparents' plot.

Will Collins arrives too, with his wife Vanessa. Will is the CFO of Remlor, he manages finances, and although he doesn't have a family history tying in with ours, he is-was-John and James' trusted friend. Remlor was family, and their presence is evident today. I look around for Zach, and he's still not here. Is he even going to show? Maybe I should have called him or...

"Emma, how are you?" Will turns to me. People are still crowding around, there's so many people.

"I'm... managing. It's a hard loss." He looks down, his eyes glistening with tears. Is it a coincidence that a summer day in August is cool and cloudy? The clouds are as gloomy as we are.

"It is. Especially so soon after–" He stops and looks at me, I guess realizing who he's talking to.

"I know," I assure him. There's dozens of people flooding the area now, talking, crying, and in this moment all I can focus on is the ladybug zipping past me.

Will squeezes my shoulder before walking towards my mom and Sarah. I sigh and try to dry my eyes when another car rushes into the area.

No one else notices it, and I'm not in the mood to talk to someone else about John or my dad, so I take a few steps away from the crowd.

A tall man steps out of the black town car. The first thing I notice is how ungracefully he practically fell out, probably because he knows he's late. He smooths his dark gray suit and tie, and adjusts his black glasses.

It's him, it's Zach Taylor.

So many emotions run through my head in that instant. He finally showed. How ironic, the last time I saw him was at my father's funeral, and now here we are. Here we are, engaged? He is handsome, he always has been the better looking one. Maybe that's why I usually avoided him, or why he avoided me. Maybe we just always avoided each other because it was our parents who were best friends, not us, what could we have in common? I've talked to him maybe a handful of times, I don't know him, only the praises from his parents.

He walks slowly, with both ease and hesitation, towards his mom, who's hovered near the casket. They're about to close it.

He's running now, and I'm frozen in my spot.

"Wait, please, I'm sorry–" He tells the funeral director. He embraces his mom, and says something to the funeral director that I can't hear, but I think he asked them to open the casket again. I think about walking over to my mom but I can't move. I can't take my eyes off Zach wipes tears off his face and Sarah clutching her only son.

I am in way over my head.

My mom walks over to me a few minutes later.

"Mom–I–I can't–" She nods as if she knows what I'm trying to say, and hugs me. I see over her shoulder that each guest is tossing dirt into the grave, John already in it.

"I know. He was your father's friend, he was family," she whispers. I nod, but even I don't know if I was talking about being here or the marriage to Zach.

I walk over to the grave, my mother following beside, so I can pay my final respects. The dirt is cold and gritty, and barely makes a tap noise against the casket. I know everyone's watching but I don't look up. I can't or else I'm going to scream or something.

Sarah is suddenly next to me and embracing me. I let her, and I finally get the nerve to lift my head. Zach's brown eyes meet my icy bright gray eyes, and he gives me the smallest smile.

Later, Sarah leaves in the town car with Zach, while my mom and I take another. I turn to her, and I'm suddenly aware of my puffy, red face as I say:

"When do I marry Zach?"

***

I can't decide what to wear, and it's making me anxious. What would you wear to your, um, wedding? Definitely not a white dress.

I finally decided on a blush colored dress. It came to just above my knees and had a high, sleeveless neckline, with blush crocheted lace. It's simple and flows just a bit.

You only get married once, right?

"Ready to go sweetheart?" My mom asks me while looking for her keys.

"Yeah," I mumble, grabbing a small purse for my phone. We could be going to the mall with how casual this all is. It makes me want to rip my hair out. John's funeral was only a week ago, and now here we are, going to my wedding at city hall. But my mom insisted it had to be right away, for the sake of the company.

She looks at me a little upset. "I hope you know that I am no happier about this than you. It's just what has to be done." She says, and I can tell that she's trying to be sincere, but it's hard for a person who's angry on the inside to accept sincerity.

She starts to tear up.

"I know."

Let's go have ourselves a wedding.