Charming: A Modern Day Sexy Cinderella Story

by Jennifer Miller

  “Of course, dear. Are you okay?”

  The simple act of kindness, the concern in her voice, and the fact her salt and pepper hair, dark eyes, and soft smile reminds me a little bit of my beloved aunt, makes the tears flow faster. “No, not really,” I respond honestly.

  “Do you feel like talking about it?”

  Twisting the tissue in my hands I force out a laugh, “It’s a long story.”

  “Oh honey, we have nothing but time.”

  She isn’t wrong; we have a long flight ahead of us. Still. Turning my head to the right at the crazy thought of spilling my guts to a stranger, I begin to shake my head no, but something stops me. Truth is, I feel like I want to tell her. She’s someone that has no idea who I am or anyone I might speak to her about. Baring my soul to her is more than intriguing, it feels necessary, and safe. Maybe she sees that I’m considering it because she smiles warmly at me, “Who knows, dear, maybe talking to me will be like confiding in your very own Fairy Godmother, and I’ll be able to help make your dreams come true.”

  Laughing softly at the mirth in her eyes, I sniffle, “Well, that’s a nice thought. If only it were true.”

  She smiles and holds out her hand, “My name is Faye, love. And you are?”

  “Gabriella, but my friends call me ‘Ella’.”

  “Well, Ella, will you please tell me why you’re so sad?”

  I begin shredding the tissue in my hand and I watch as the pieces fall like snow into my lap, “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “Well that’s easy, love. At the beginning of course.”

  With a nod and a small smile, I take a deep breath, and begin.

  When I was a little girl, Cinderella was my favorite princess. I loved watching her dance at the ball in the arms of Prince Charming – it’s still my favorite part. Even though it was a cartoon and not an animated version like we have today, you could clearly see the love in Cinderella’s eyes, a small smile of happiness upon her lips, and even a look of stunned disbelief at times on her face. Looks that told me she couldn’t believe how happy she was and that she was dancing in the arms of her love.

  Looking at my reflection in the mirror, taking in the vision, I focus intently, desperately searching for a look just like that princess in blue. But, there isn’t even a hint of a smile upon my lips or a trace of a twinkle in my eyes. Instead, there’s uncertainty, desperation, and perhaps a twinge of fear. I’m wondering for the hundredth time if I’m doing the right thing. Am I sure that I want to walk down the aisle? Is this really the man that I want to be with for the rest of my life? Is Jeremy my real life prince? Are these thoughts normal to have on my actual wedding day?

  Fidgeting with my veil, I purposefully take some deep breaths; hoping doing so will calm my nerves. Closing my eyes, I try to picture my doubts as dust particles that simply blow away with each, and every, exhale. I give up when it feels like I’m closer to hyperventilating than calming down. I’m trying to avoid a tiny voice in the back of my mind that’s screaming, “RUN!” It seems that ignoring it is only making it get louder and louder. It’s telling me that I’m about to make a mistake. A huge, gigantic mistake.

  When Jeremy proposed marriage, saying “yes” just seemed to be the appropriate response. We knew one another in college and were casual acquaintances initially. His father worked for mine and I knew who his dad was, but Jeremy and I had never officially met before. We didn’t begin dating until he attended a work function with his father that I was also attending; we gravitated toward each other and hung out for the evening, spending hours talking. We never quit spending time together after that and our relationship developed from there. He met my stepmother and stepsister and I saw his dad again, met his mother and his brother. My family loved him, his loved me, and most of our friends always made comments about how perfectly matched we were, and I wondered if maybe they could see something that I didn’t. I knew that I loved Jeremy, but lately I’d been questioning if I was in love with him.

  I enjoyed spending time with him, but I always felt like something was missing. I never felt the passionate, fiery love that I’ve read about and saw in movies. But, I know that those kinds of feelings are fictional. It’s silly to base real life on some fairy tale and so I pushed them aside and told myself I was being unrealistic. So, when he proposed, regardless of my hesitations, I agreed to become Mrs. Jeremy le Pieu.

  “Just say the word.”

  “What?” I ask startled out of my thoughts. Turning to my best friend, and maid of honor, Katie, I smile at her appearance. She looks beautiful in the rose hued strapless dress I selected for her that compliments mine. The tulle skirt flares at her waist and stops at her knees. Her dark hair is piled on her head and her lips are painted the brightest pink. However, one look in her eyes shows me they are full of worry.

  “I said, just say the word, and we will make like Julia Roberts in Runaway Bride and get the hell out of here.”

  I start to laugh at her joke, but find myself wondering if I could do it? Could I walk away? I know she’s not kidding, all I have to do is give her a nod of my head and she will make it happen.

  What’s worse? Marrying a man I’m unsure about and living a potential unhappy life, or disappointing people that will eventually get over it?

  She takes my hands in hers, “Ella, no one knows you better than I do, and I know you aren’t happy. I know you are just doing this because you think it’s the right thing to do. I know given everything you’ve been through that settling for mediocrity is easier than being alone, but I’m begging you, one last time, don’t do this.”

  Biting my lip, I look deep into Katie’s eyes and see her sincerity. There’s no judgment, no abomination, only concern and a desire for me to follow my heart. Taking a deep breath, I squeeze her hands, and give her a tiny nod. She expends a sigh of relief, “Thank god. Okay, here’s what we’re going to do-” before she can continue, the door opens, freezing us both as if we were already caught in the act of running.

  When we see who walks in the door, we probably shouldn’t be surprised. I mean really, why wouldn’t they try to ruin today like every other day they’re a part of? Katie and I both exchange a look that screams, “What now?”

  My stepsister, Jackie, decked out in head to toe black is closely following behind my stepmother Angelica who’s also wearing black and topped off with a black pillbox hat with a small veil that covers her eyes. They are quite the duo. I can’t decide if they’ve confused my wedding for a funeral, or if they are mistaking New York for London. Either way, they both look ridiculous.

  To say there is no love lost between us is an understatement. I’m surrounded by a family that’s anything but mine. My mother passed away from breast cancer when I was a little girl. My father grieved for years and while I know he missed her every day, we made the most of a life with just the two of us. I had a content and wonderful childhood. It was full of love, laughter, and beautiful memories of the three of us together as a family before my mom died, and more of my father and I after her loss. My father doted on me, and while I missed my mother, I never lacked love and affection.

  Katie came into my life in the fourth grade, just before the loss of my mother. We bonded over our mutual love for dancing and the color pink. I never felt sad that I was an only child, because in my mind, Katie has always been my sister. I felt like I had an almost perfect life. So, when my dad started dating, I had a hard time initially, but quickly tried to understand his need for a woman’s companionship and conversation. I was thirteen and was determined to show my maturity at the situation even though part of me hated it. I didn’t want to share my father with anyone – I’d gotten too used to the two of us. When I was introduced to the woman that would become his wife, Angelica, it was easier than I expected to push the jealousy away because his happiness was far more important. I was kind, polite, and did my best to welcome her and my new stepsister, Jackie, into our lives.

  Right from the get go, there was no love
lost between Jackie and me. Anything and everything we could have argued about – clothes, boys, TV shows, school activities, friends – you name it, we did. Inevitably, we did our best to avoid each other unless we were forced to spend time together with our parents as witness.

  When my father died unexpectedly from a heart attack a few years back, all bets were off. I no longer cared about getting along with either of them. Overnight they had become greedy bitches from hell. When they found out my father had not only left me money to pay for college and a trust to take care of myself, but that he also gave me controlling interest in his company as well, they were livid. I didn’t care. I was off to college anyway, eager to meet the requirements needed to take my rightful place as head of his company, and I didn’t have time or patience to deal with them.

  If it hadn’t been for Jeremy, I wouldn’t even have invited them to our wedding, but at a weak moment, he talked me into it. He reminded me that as we began a new chapter in our lives it was time to let go of the past and to start fresh from our wedding day forward. I wasn’t so sure I agreed, but went along with his preference to invite them anyway. Clearly, that seems to be my MO where he’s concerned. From the look on both of their faces, I’m regretting giving into his suggestion.

  With a sneer upon her lips, Jackie spits, “So, this is really happening then? You’re marrying him?”

  “Excuse me?” I ask at the same time Katie says, “What the hell do you both want?”

  My dear stepmother says nothing, but Jackie spits, “I’m not talking to you,” to Katie before turning to look at me once more. “You’re seriously going through with this?”

  My brow furrows and while I’m definitely not going to go through with this, I still don’t understand why she’s asking, “Why are you asking me that? What are you doing back here?”

  She shakes her head, “That bastard. He didn’t tell you, did he?” She looks at Angelica, “See? I told you he hadn’t told her.” Angelica’s lips somehow manage to purse even tighter.

  “Tell me what? What are you talking about?” I throw up my hands, “You know what? I don’t care. I’m kind of busy here. Leave,” I tell her knowing I need to get the hell out of here now and the longer she delays my escape, the more impossible sneaking out is going to be.

  “Jeremy and I have been having an affair,” Jackie blurts. “We have been for quite some time.”

  My mouth falls open and my stomach twists painfully making me gag. Katie reaches out and grabs my arm, her fingernails painfully digging into my skin. I may be ready to walk out on Jeremy, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still shocked and hurt by the bomb that just dropped.

  Katie recovers first, “What the hell are you talking about? This is low. Even for you,” she snaps at Jackie.

  “It’s true,” she hisses. “Fact is Jeremy doesn’t love you. He only wants to gain access to the business. I wouldn’t even be telling you this if I didn’t have to. But, he’s hoping that by marrying you, he’ll get to eventually run your father’s company and push you out.”

  “He can’t push me out of my own company,” I state thinking about the marketing company I manage that’s become my pride and joy. I love what I do, love that my father loved it as well. No one is taking that away from me. No one. I’ll die first.

  “Maybe not, but you weren’t signing a prenup were you? He can certainly take you to court and make your life hell down the road. If it came to that. Or maybe you’d be so in love with him and his little act that you’d sign over controlling interest to him? Regardless, you can’t tell me that Jeremy wasn’t going to get a primo position within the company. He has it all planned out and he wants to leave you with nothing.”

  Jeremy’s been working at the company since I took it over. I love my job, love coming up with creative and innovative ways to help our clients promote and market their dreams. Playing a role in helping them share their dream with the world, to realize that dream, well that’s just an amazing experience. Plus, I’m damn good at it.

  “And what?” I ask her. “You’re doing me a kindness by telling me because you care about me? Because of our sisterly bond? Seems to me you both have more to gain by not telling me a thing.” I scoff while gripping Katie’s hand tighter in my own. Nausea washes over me at the thought of Jackie and Jeremy together and I do my best to cover it up. Jackie and Jeremy. Jeremy and Jackie. Isn’t that cute? Their names even go together. Gag.

  “No,” she snaps. “I don’t really care about how this makes you feel at all. I regret he let it get to this point, such a waste of time and money, but I have no choice now but to take matters into my own hands.”

  “Do you want me to say ‘thank you’? Because if that’s what you’re waiting for, feel free to hold your breath.”

  “Why should she even believe you? How do we know you’re even telling the truth and not just trying to be a bitch on her wedding day?” Katie asks.

  “Don’t believe me. I don’t care. Or I can show you the photos I have on my phone of us together. Just…don’t go through with this,” she says as her hands touch the front of her stomach and she caresses it. In that moment, her words register. She doesn’t have a choice but to tell me, and I know why. This isn’t just about her anymore.

  “Oh my god,” I state feeling sick. “You’re pregnant.” Katie gasps, and the look on Jackie’s face is a mixture of apprehension and triumph. Angelica’s face shows only glee and malice. Clearly, she’s only here for the view. I almost laugh. Does Jackie think having an affair with an almost married man and getting pregnant with his baby deserves some kind of reward? Does she think I’d be grateful to her? The smirk she sports on her lips makes me want to smack it off. With a toss of her long hair, she spins on her heel and stalks out of the room, my dear stepmother following. Both of them walking away from the damage Jackie’s actions have left behind.

  Katie and I remain frozen, staring at the door Jackie slammed behind her. Words lie on the tip of my tongue, but are unable to form completely. I begin taking stock of my emotions – surprise, check; betrayal, check; anger, oh absolutely. Part of me expects tears to well in my eyes and screams of anguish to emit from my throat any second. I wait for them to run like rivers down my face and to burn from my throat, but they don’t come. There are no tears for the wasted years, months, hours and minutes I wasted on a man completely undeserving of every second he was with me. So much wasted time, wasted moments and memories. But there are no tears, at least not yet.

  Forming sentences continues to elude me, so I remain quiet. My gaze falls upon a clock on the wall and my mind can’t help but marvel at the way time continues to pass during moments that feel like life stands still.

  Katie receives clarity before me, and when she turns to me, her eyes capturing mine, I see the anger there, burning like an inferno. “There is absolutely no way you are not leaving here with me, right the hell now,” she practically spits each word. “It’s best friend code or some shit. Best friends shall not let each other marry a rat-cheating bastard that impregnates her wicked stepsister with what will no doubt be the spawn of Satan. I’m sure it’s a commandment or something.”

  Nodding my head absently, I whole-heartedly agree, and as she’s speaking to me, another flood of anger comes over me. It’s as if I’m kindling and the rage churning in her eyes grabs hold of my dry branches and sets them aflame. Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve grabbed my bouquet of white lilies and am out the door of the dressing room, making my way to the large room we’ve rented and decorated for our wedding ceremony.

  Halting at the sight of the large wooden doors before me, I picture the betrayer I’m seeking behind them. Like a lion hunting prey, all I can think about is getting at him, and tearing him from limb to limb – physically, emotionally – it doesn’t matter as long as I make him bleed.

  Out of nowhere my wedding coordinator, Brenda, pops up in front of me startling me and halting my steps. When she gets a look at my face, she flinches and visibly gulps. I’ve got t
o admire her bravery however, because it doesn’t keep her from asking her question, “Ella, what are you doing? You aren’t due to walk down the aisle for another,” she glances at her watch, “three minutes. You’re early. You can’t go yet.”

  I start to tell her there’s been a change in plans, but instead, I nod my head and turn to Katie. She takes me aside and acts like she’s giving me a hug, her lips close to my ear, “What the hell are you doing? We need to go out the side door right there,” she gestures with her head. “We can tell Miss Commando over there that you want some fresh air before you walk down the aisle. Once we’re outside, we can take off. My car is parked right there.”

  I can feel myself smile, but it’s all teeth, something predatory, “He’s not getting off that easily.”

  She backs up and her wide eyes meet mine, “Ella-”

  “It’s okay. I’ll be fine. Just walk down the aisle as planned, okay? I’ll handle the rest.”

  She reluctantly nods, but I know she doesn’t want to agree. It’s a testament to our friendship that she trusts me and does it anyway. She knows when to push, and she knows when to back off. “Please tell me you’re going to march down that aisle and kick him in the balls in front of everyone before you turn and walk out.”

  Despite my fury and shock, she still manages to make me smile – just a little. “Just be ready with your keys in hand, okay?”

  She clutches my hand, “Always. I’m always ready for anything you need.”

  “Katie, it’s time,” Brenda says, tapping Katie on the shoulder. Katie looks at me hesitantly and I can tell Brenda wants to ask me what’s wrong, but I force a smile and give Katie a nod, silently telling her to go, that I’m fine.

  With a look over her shoulder, she turns and disappears through the doors. I concentrate on my breaths while I wait. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.