The Enchanting Wedding of the Enchanted Realm

Oliver Clarke wed Imogen Bennett on purpose to give Molly Whitaker a proper sting. He wanted to prove that he wasnt still nursing the wound of her betrayal. He and Molly had been together almost two years, headoverheels in love, ready to tilt the whole sky for her and mould his whole life around her dreams. He thought a wedding was the inevitable next step, yet her constant dodging of any talk about marriage was driving him up the wall.

Why rush a wedding now? Molly would say. I havent even finished my degree, and youre still stuck at the company no decent car, no house. And honestly, I dont fancy sharing a kitchen with your sister. Shed often add, If we hadnt sold that old house, wed still be living peacefully, unaware of any problems. Those words hit Oliver hard, and he couldnt deny their truth. He, his sister Olivia, and he all still lived in their parents flat; the hardware business was just getting its legs, and Oliver was still a finalyear university student. He had to take the reins before his diploma arrived. The house was sold with Olivias agreement to rescue the parents finances. Six months of mounting debts and studies later, the sale cleared the liabilities, restocked the shop and even left a tidy cushion of cash.

Molly, however, lived for the present, not some imagined tomorrow. With the parents bearing the bills, it sounded easy. Oliver suddenly found himself an adult overnight responsibilities to his sister, the shop, the household. He kept telling himself, Everything will sort itself a house, a car, a garden. Nothing hinted at disaster. They planned a night at the cinema, and Molly asked Oliver not to give her a lift, insisting shed get there herself. He waited at the bus stop, then spotted her pulling up in a sleek estate car. She hopped out, handed him a booklet and said:

Sorry, we cant be together any longer. Im getting married, she announced, before drifting back to the car.

Oliver stood stunned. What could have changed in the few days shed been away? When he got home, Olivia read his expression like an open book:

Already know? she asked.

He only nodded.

Shes marrying a rich bloke. She asked me to be a witness I said no. Shes a traitor, turning around my back with him Olivias voice trembled.

Oliver pulled her into a hug, smoothing her hair.

Calm down. Let her have a good life. Ours will be even better.

He then locked himself in his room for a full day. Olivia coaxed him out.

Come on, Ive made pancakes, she pleaded.

By evening he emerged, fire flashing in his eyes.

Get ready, he said.

Where to? What are you up to? Olivia asked.

Ill marry the first woman who says yes, Oliver replied coldly.

No, you cant! It isnt just your life, Olivia tried in vain to stop him.

You wont go Ill go alone, he snapped.

In the park a crowd milled about. One girl twirled a strand of hair, another bolted away frightened, but a third looked him straight in the eye and said yes.

Whats your name, love? Oliver asked.

Imogen, she replied.

Engagements need celebrating! He whisked Imogen and Olivia into a nearby café.

An awkward silence settled over the table. Olivia didnt know what to say, while Olivers mind whirred with thoughts of revenge. He had already decided: his own wedding would be on the 25th of the month.

Surely theres a serious reason you proposed to a stranger, Imogen ventured, breaking the hush. If its a spurofthemoment thing, I wont mind and Ill go.

No. Youve already given your word. Tomorrow well file the paperwork and meet your parents.

Oliver winked. First things first, lets be on a firstname basis.

The whole month until the ceremony they saw each other daily, talked, and got to know each other.

Why did you agree to this? Imogen asked one evening.

Everyone has skeletons in their closet, Oliver dodged.

The important thing is they dont stop you living, she replied.

And why did you say yes? he pressed.

I imagined myself a princess whose kingtobe picks the first passerby. Fairytales always end they lived happily ever after, so I wanted to test it, she said with a laugh.

In truth it wasnt that simple. A great love left a broken heart, a modest loss of savings, and a lesson in reading people. Suitors swarmed like a flock, but Imogen brushed them off at first glance. She wasnt hunting for the one; she knew she needed a clever, independent man capable of action. In Oliver she saw determination and a serious approach to business. Had he been just friends with his sister, she would have walked away.

So, what kind of princess are you? Oliver asked, halfserious. The shy one, the beautiful Vasilisa, or the frogprincess?

Give me a kiss and youll find out, she teased.

But no kiss ever followed.

Oliver handled the wedding preparations himself; Imogen only chose from his suggestions, even the dress and veil he bought himself.

Youll be the most beautiful, he kept telling her.

At the registry office, just as they were about to sign, they ran into Molly and her fiancé. Oliver forced a smile.

Allow me to congratulate you, he said, planting a kiss on her cheek. May your purse always be full!

Dont turn this into a circus, Molly replied, nervous.

She eyed Olivers new bride tall, striking, undeniably stunning, carrying herself like royalty. The comparison gnawed at her; jealousy settled like a cold stone in her chest. She felt shed made a mistake and would never get what shed hoped for.

Oliver turned back to Imogen.

All good, he said, strained.

Its not too late to stop, Imogen whispered.

No. We play till the end.

Only when they looked into each others eyes in the registration hall did Oliver realise the magnitude of what hed done.

Ill make you happy, he said, believing his own words.

Life settled into a domestic rhythm. Olivia and Imogen quickly found common ground, complementing each other perfectly. Impulsive Olivia learned to temper her emotions, while Imogen ran the household with quiet efficiency.

A savvy accountant, Imogen tidied the finances in no time. Six months later they opened a second shop, then formed a team of tradespeople they were no longer just sellers of building supplies but also fullservice renovators. Profits multiplied.

She turned out to be a modernday Vasilisa the Wise, presenting ideas that Oliver claimed as his own. It seemed a dream life eat, drink, be merry. Yet Oliver missed the dizzy rush hed had with Molly. Everything now was measured, predictable, calm. Routine is a slowdraining tide, he thought, and I dont like it one bit.

Thanks to Imogens hard work they moved into a new venture building turnkey homes. The first house they erected was for themselves.

The better the business did, the more often Oliver thought of Molly: She couldve survived a bit longer. Shed have seen the car I now drive, the house thats more a palace than a cottage! he bragged to himself, wondering what if.

Imogen noticed her husbands lingering pain. She longed to be his true love, but you cant force a heart, especially when it belongs elsewhere. Not every story ends happily, she mused, yet she held onto hope a promise was a promise.

Olivia also kept an eye on her brother.

Youll lose more than you gain, she warned, catching him staring at Mollys socialmedia page.

Dont meddle! Oliver snapped.

Olivia shot back, Fool, Imogen loves you, and youre playing games!

Just what I needed a kid telling me what to do, Oliver muttered, his thoughts drifting back to Molly. He finally wrote to her.

Molly complained that her personal life was a wreck. Shed been evicted, never finished college, had no steady job, and was living in a rented flat in a provincial town.

Oliver wavered for days: Should I go? Should I stay? But circumstances left him home alone for a while Imogen had gone to her ailing grandmother in the countryside.

He finally set a date, racing to her town despite the signs. His heart hammered as he imagined what shed say, where they’d go.

Reality hit hard

You handsome devil, Molly swooned, throwing herself around his neck.

The smell of cheap perfume and stale sweat hit him. He stepped back.

People are watching, he muttered.

I couldnt care less! she laughed, in a flimsy short skirt and gaudy makeup.

She reminded him of his old Imogen in all the wrong ways. Shes always been like this. Why didnt I see it? he thought, watching her gulp a pint.

Give me some cash, Ill pay you back, Molly teased, licking her lips.

He didnt know how to get rid of her.

Sorry, Ive got work, Oliver said, rising from the table.

Will we meet again? she asked.

I dont think so, he called the waiter. The bill, please.

Id like to stay a bit longer, Molly protested.

The girl can rest within that amount, the waiter replied, sliding a surprisingly large note across the table.

Oliver nodded, understanding.

He sped home, barely respecting the speed limit.

Stupid me, he muttered, Olivia was right! Why did I even bother? Though maybe it wasnt for nothing.

I never called my wife Imogen. I have no one else dear to me, he realized, pausing for five minutes, replaying the years since the wedding.

He saw his wifes face bright blue eyes with a hint of mischief remembered how she smiled when he arrived, how she gently ruffled his hair with long, wellkept fingers.

I promised to make her happy, he said, revving the car and turning onto a country lane.

A week is too long. I cant survive two days without you, he declared when Imogen ran out to meet him by her grandmothers cottage.

Youre mad, she laughed through tears.

Imogen, my love, Oliver whispered in her ear, both of them dizzy with joy.