Their Wedding Day
The second Saturday of February, at a wedding hall on the outskirts. Sunlight filters through the forest, weaving patterns amid the budding green sprouts that infuse the landscape with fresh vitality. The chirping of birds returning for spring echoes like a melody. A gentle breeze whispers past the ears. White chairs are arranged on the lush green lawn.
Bianca and Carlyle had agreed to hold their wedding in a small church nestled near the woods. Public institutions even subsidized the costs, making it affordable, but there were other reasons too. Bianca had suggested it first.
"Hey, Carlyle. I'd prefer a small wedding."
"I don't want to worry about other people's eyes, and a big one feels burdensome. Honestly, my social circle is pretty narrow anyway."
There was no shame in admitting it, but when she pointed out she didn't have many friends coming, Carlyle burst out laughing. He was the same, he said.
"But really, is that okay?"
Bianca nodded firmly at his question.
"Yeah, it's fine. Kinda weird, right? Neither of us is the type to actively make friends or date around."
Bianca knew it about herself, but Carlyle had always kept walls up around others too. Neither was particularly outgoing. Carlyle Schultz just had more social experience, clear goals, and unshakable confidence, so he seemed laid-back—but he focused on his own tasks, not others'. That's why Bianca thought she got it: why he'd dated a few women before but always ended up breaking up.
'Who else but me could fully understand you...? It's because it's me.'
She and Carlyle were fated. They were made for each other—no one else would do. Carlyle fit her perfectly, and she fit him. Of course, Bianca didn't know the truth: Carlyle had fallen completely for Bianca Shama without realizing it. He treated her worlds apart from other women. She was his one true first love, the only one to truly steal his heart.
In any case, they settled on a modest church for fifty guests. And on this clear, sunny Saturday in mid-February, it was finally their wedding day.
The wedding hall in the suburban woods.
"Congratulations, Maxim."
"Aigoo, thank you."
Maximilian Shama chuckled heartily as he greeted a neighbor among the guests. He'd arrived with a funeral face and gotten scolded by his wife Emma, but this was a joyous occasion, after all. A daughter getting married tugged at the heart, but as a parent, how could one not be happy too?
Wildflowers bloomed nearby. The weather was pleasantly cool.
"Father. How is it?"
His stoic eldest son approached.
"What do you mean, how?"
"Bianca picked well. Seems like a nice place, despite your worries."
Maxim was more satisfied than expected—the venue was surprisingly good. He'd hoped for a grand hotel, but this wasn't bad. Honestly, it had thrown him a bit. As a parent.
'...When did she grow up this much?'
The youngest child who'd feared ghosts and been so tender-hearted was now handling everything on her own. She'd matured. They'd booked the venue themselves, even found a place for their honeymoon home. It had been a month since he'd heard.
"Carlyle and I will handle it with our savings, Dad."
No mistaking whose influence that was. Maxim had felt strangely conflicted. He'd grumbled back then—"Don't talk nonsense"—but part of him was proud, so he'd watched. And they'd booked the venue, prepared flawlessly. Honeymoon home pending, but they were managing.
'Heh, well...'
His judgment had been spot-on from the start.
'That guy, anyway...'
He hadn't liked the fellow stealing his daughter, but approving the relationship—and the marriage—hadn't been a mistake. The resolve he'd seen then, the action to back it up. A solid man. One his daughter could rely on for life.
Just one thing irked him.
"Tch. Still, so few guests. The place is tiny as a mouse turd..."
His second son chimed in at the petty complaint.
"Don't you know, Dad? Small weddings are the trend now."
"Right, yeah."
With the eldest joining in, Maxim had nothing to say.
'Young folks these days...'
Even so, his face beamed as he greeted more guests.
"Maxim, old man, congrats. What a happy day."
"The venue's lovely."
"Exactly, a celebration. Ah, this is the place our kids booked themselves..."
He started boasting. Praise for the venue turned to praise for his daughter who'd booked it. Young as they were, not asking parents for a dime, doing amazingly well. His mouth stretched ear to ear.
"Jeez... Dad."
"Can't be honest, can you?"
His two sons shook their heads at their father.
The ceremony was about to begin.
Inside the church's waiting room.
Thump-thump. Her heart raced wildly. Her head felt fuzzy; the situation didn't feel real. She was tired too.
'From coming early this morning...'
Bianca had arrived at dawn with Carlyle to handle preparations. Rehearsals, checking the setup personally. Wedding photos too.
"Bride, smile! Your expression's a bit stiff."
"Ah, yes...!"
Oddly nervous, heart pounding. Photos with Carlyle took forever. It was hitting her now, unreal yet real.
'Just a little longer...'
Once it ended, she'd truly be husband and wife with him. Yes, married. Wife, husband. Lifelong partner. Her as wife, him as husband. The fact felt both distant and imminent.
As stylists adjusted her hair, Bianca's mind blanked. Out of it completely.
"Bride, how's this? Better loose?"
"Emphasized a mature feel over bubbly."
"...Ah, yes."
She responded, but honestly didn't care. When she snapped to, friends Shasha and Emily were there.
"Wow, Bianca..."
"You're so beautiful."
Congrats from both.
"It's surreal, really. My friend getting married. And so young."
Shasha buzzed excitedly; Emily looked nostalgic. Strictly speaking, Emily knew the truth about "Vita Shama." Bianca had awkwardly confessed once.
"Uh, Emily... You're invited, but no pressure if you can't come."
That backfired; Emily scolded her.
"I confessed, got cleanly rejected. No regrets, no lingering feelings. It's the past, meaningless now—don't worry."
How could she skip a friend's wedding? So Emily came gladly, as Bianca Shama's friend.
"Happy, right, Bianca?"
Emily smiled brightly.
"Yeah, of course."
Bianca nodded vigorously, grinning sheepishly, scratching her cheek, voice giddy.
"I'm happy, definitely."
"Good, then."
Emily's soft smile. She still regretted that slip-up, but seeing her happy lightened the load. She'd liked Carlyle once, but it was past. Confessed, rejected cleanly. And Bianca had even pushed her toward him, despite liking him herself and stepping back. So they'd become friends again—now truly precious.
She could say it sincerely here.
"Congrats on the marriage. Makes me happy too."
"Thanks, Emily."
A shared glance, known only to them.
"What was that about, you two?"
Emily giggled at Shasha's fussing.
"Nothing. Anyway, Bianca, your makeup is flawless!"
Rare for Emily to deflect, but today's bride Bianca was dazzling.
"Seriously fairy-like. How does it suit you so perfectly?"
"Right? Total new bride vibe."
Shasha agreed, making Bianca blush at "new bride."
"R-Really...?"
Chatting flew by. Then mother Emma Shama arrived, grasping her hands firmly.
"No honeymoon home yet?"
"Yeah, Mom. Not urgent."
Planning a month or two in her room for now.
"So, you're already living together...?"
She stammered; Mom smiled.
"Not yet?"
"...N-No."
Caught, Bianca denied hastily, but she sucked at lying.
"What can you do with sweet kids like that."
Mom sighed, still smiling.
"But you used protection...?"
"......"
"......"
Then she got an earful. Excuses about no pregnancy earned a swat on the back. When she came to, the ceremony loomed. Guests seated.
[Groom, enter-!]
Bianca heard the booming call from the corridor, beside her father Maximilian Shama. But he looked off—tense.
'Dad's nervous...?'
Her own heart fluttered too.
"Dad, you okay...?"
His face relaxed then.
"Y-Yeah."
Her imagination? He blinked oddly, voice hoarse. Bianca tilted her head, never dreaming he was on the verge of tears.
[Bride, enter-!]
Her turn. Step by step with Father. Shasha, Emily. Junior Lou, classmates. Neighborhood elders from home visits. Carlyle's invites, unfamiliar faces. All eyes on her.
"Oh, so pretty..."
"Beautiful, Bianca-!"
"Congrats, senior-!"
Voices amid wedding march. Bianca looked ahead and stepped forward. One step, two.
'Way more than I thought...'
Embarrassed, dazed. But at the white carpet's end stood Carlyle Schultz, the man she adored.
The wedding flew by. Surprisingly ordinary, really. Prep was the hard part. The officiant—Carlyle's old boss from abroad, a department head now at the local branch—accepted eagerly despite no expectations. Bianca trusted Carlyle; he wouldn't ask just anyone. Parents approved too.
The somber-faced man in his thirties exuded capable salaryman vibes. The ceremony went smoothly. He lost himself briefly at groomed bride Bianca Shama, stumbling descending the podium to join hands—turning it into a joke that warmed the air instantly.
"Looks like our groom's feet are on fire trying to snag this fairy-like bride, folks?"
Laughter erupted over the lawn.
"Right-!"
Cheers, applause. Bianca and Carlyle blushed from the start but wouldn't let go. Hearts tickled, palms sweaty. Naturally, fingers intertwined. Reassuring, just holding hands.
Standard vows followed.
"Yes, I swear."
They pledged in turn, hands clasped: Carlyle to take Bianca Shama as wife, Bianca to take Carlyle Schultz as husband.
"Then, the vow kiss-!"
Bianca hesitated; Carlyle didn't. She remembered: sweet kiss, body melting. His arm steady around her waist. Time slowed. Eyes met parents' below. And yes—this moment, unforgettable till death. A whirlwind of emotions.
They greeted parents. Carlyle, no parents of his own, joined.
"Be happy, dear."
Mom teared up, but Dad wept—stunning Bianca. Hot tears on weathered cheeks.
"D-Dad...?"
Sometimes actions spoke louder. His tight hug conveyed love fully. She nearly teared up but held back. Surprisingly, Dad spoke to Carlyle.
"I'll be watching, always."
"No worries, Father-in-law."
Carlyle replied confidently. Lips twitching at the title, but Dad hugged him too.
"...Make her cry, you're done."
"...Yes."
Bianca missed their whisper. The two men embracing looked awkward; she giggled. Probably everyone did.
"Now then..."
Officiant mischievously prompted more: Bianca princess-carried by Carlyle around the hall.
'Uwaa... what.'
Mortified, face buried in his chest—but amusing everyone more, unbeknownst to her.
They thanked guests. Eldest brother stoically, second with warm smiles.
"Congrats, Bianca."
"Yeah, bro..."
Playful third needed a glare—ghost trauma source.
"Can't believe it... my little sis marrying."
As a woman? Unspoken.
"Talk nonsense, die."
"Haha, congrats..."
Many more blessings. Teased for marrying young from love. Spot-on, but they smiled happily, sometimes awkwardly, eyes meeting.
The wedding was a success. Amid unanimous cheers, flawlessly, they became husband and wife.