Willow's Wedding Vows: a laugh out loud romantic comedy with a twist!

by Debbie Viggiano

  Charlie would probably wonder why Emma was asking such personal questions. He’d likely be annoyed too. Willow couldn’t put her finger on it, but sometimes she detected frosty undercurrents between her boyfriend and her bestie. Mind you, Willow was now feeling a little frosty about Emma too. Perhaps she should have been more assertive and told Emma that she and Charlie had a fantastic sex life. She wondered what Emma would have said if she’d divulged the whippy cream details.

  “Whippy cream? You mean you let Charlie squirt the stuff all over your nipples? Are you kinky? You’ll be telling me he puts mayonnaise or tomato sauce on them next.”

  Thinking about tomato sauce immediately made Willow remember Noah’s silly joke about ketchup. She grinned at the recent memory. But Willow’s smile faded when she recalled Emma homing in like a heat-seeking missile with the suggestion that she have a date with her twin. Willow fidgeted uncomfortably. She’d have to watch herself in future. It was one thing feeling that zinggg of chemistry with someone, but quite another to let it show on your face.

  Willow didn’t like to admit to herself that Emma’s nosey question had lodged in her brain. Even worse, it had started to fester. The reality was that Willow’s sex life was mostly infrequent. She’d never dared complain to Charlie, because she knew he worked so hard and was invariably tired. Nor could Willow quite reconcile the Charlie she knew, to the Charlie in the last week or so. It was like someone had kidnapped her boyfriend, given him a massive testosterone injection, then returned him to her with a sky-high libido. Suddenly Charlie couldn’t get enough of her. Why had he changed? She had no idea.

  ‘Darling?’ said Charlie.

  ‘Sorry, I was miles away,’ she whispered.

  ‘I’ve ordered us champagne.’

  ‘Lovely,’ she mouthed.

  ‘What?’ Charlie leant in.

  Willow didn’t trust her voice to stay low, so she gave him a thumbs-up. Almost instantly she regretted doing so. This wasn’t really the sort of place one did such gestures. It wasn’t the right setting. It was a bit like witnessing Queen Elizabeth knight someone and then catch Her Majesty doing a high-five. Her musings were interrupted by Miguel returning with the champagne.

  ‘My lady,’ he murmured, pouring the chilled fizz into her glass.

  Willow inclined her head. It was still too risky to speak. The last thing she wanted was her voice booming out and interrupting that couple over there who were so enthralled with each other. They were holding hands across the table and gazing deeply into each other’s eyes. They had no need for words.

  Miguel poured Charlie a flute of champagne and then, bowing and scraping, reversed away.

  Charlie picked up his glass.

  ‘To us,’ he said softly.

  Willow gently clinked her glass against his and nodded agreement.

  Charlie cleared his throat.

  ‘There’s a reason I brought you here.’

  ‘I can’t hear you.’

  Charlie leant in further.

  ‘I said, there’s a reason I brought you here.’

  Willow found herself leaning in closer too.

  ‘What have you caught?’

  ‘What?’ Charlie frowned.

  ‘You said you’d caught something.’

  ‘No, brought.’

  ‘What have you bought?’

  ‘Oh for goodness sake,’ muttered Charlie.

  ‘Cake?’ Willow queried.

  Charlie sighed and shook his head. It was no good. He was going to have to speak up. Loud and clear. Sod the other diners.

  He fished in his jacket pocket for something, and then stood up. Moving round to Willow, he looked first at her and then at all the diners.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he announced to the restaurant.

  Everyone paused and regarded him curiously.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt your evening, but there is something I need to ask my girlfriend, and I have to be absolutely certain that she hears me.’

  And with that, Charlie dropped down on one knee. He looked up at Willow. She was staring at him with her mouth open.

  ‘Darling Willow,’ he said, producing a small jeweller’s box.

  It was open. Nestling against a black velvet cushion was a diamond ring.

  ‘Will you marry me?’

  There was a collective gasp as both Willow and the entire restaurant sharply inhaled.

  ‘Oh!’

  So this was the surprise Charlie had talked about. His proposal had completely floored her. Her mind careered backwards. Back to her birthday when she’d idly suggested marriage. Charlie had reacted so badly he’d disappeared for the entire weekend. Then there had been that bizarre moment in the kitchen the other day. He’d got down on one knee after she’d cooked brunch, but it had transpired he had tummy ache and wanted the toilet. But now, for reasons Willow couldn’t fathom, her boyfriend had changed his mind. He wanted to get married. Indeed, he was so serious he’d booked Goldhill Grange to pop the question and produced a stunning sparkler in front of all these strangers.

  ‘Darling?’ Charlie prompted.

  Willow stared at him, like a rabbit caught in car headlights. Why wasn’t she feeling thrilled? Or wanting to whoop with happiness? Or even leaking a few tears of joy?

  Her thoughts strayed to Noah… how he’d made her feel when they’d spoken on FaceTime. Excited. Fizzy. Like a shaken-up bottle of champagne that was just waiting to explode. And then her thoughts returned to Charlie. Here he was, finally down on one knee. Both he and the entire restaurant were holding their breath, waiting for the girl with the golden hair to answer the handsome man whose eyes were full of love. This was everything she’d ever wanted. Wasn’t it? Well, it had been. On her birthday. When she hadn’t met Noah.

  Oh don’t be ridiculous, Willow. You haven’t “met” Noah. Not properly. Two FaceTime calls do not substitute for meeting a person. And forget the connection you fancifully think you had with him. The only connection was a digital one, and most certainly not an emotional one. You don’t know the guy, so stop being a plonker!

  As that last word echoed through her brain, Willow remembered Emma mentioning her recent doomed romance. She’d declined sharing the details with Willow but referred to the unnamed man as a “plonker”. Poor Emma. She’d probably give her right arm to have a man like Charlie giving her the full romantic works and a dream proposal. Unlike Emma’s mystery man, Charlie was reliable… solid… good looking and – Willow tuned back in – now looking horribly anxious about her lack of response. In fact, her boyfriend looked like he just might burst into tears.

  ‘Please answer me, darling. Please say yes. I so want to marry you, Willow. And to prove just how serious I am, I’ve gone ahead and booked everything.’

  ‘W-What?’ said Willow, flabbergasted.

  ‘It’s true,’ Charlie nodded. ‘I’ve paid for the wedding to take place here. Goldhill Grange. Saturday the seventh of December. The marriage of Willow West and Charles Goodman. Look.’

  Charlie’s free hand disappeared to the inside breast pocket of his jacket. It emerged with a folded letter. He passed it to Willow. Wordlessly, she took it. Her eyes widened. Written confirmation for a wedding package… banquet for sixty guests… photographer… videographer… cake… oh my God… these were the “errands” he’d been doing earlier today. Charlie had been organising a wedding. Her wedding!

  ‘And I took the liberty of booking this too’ – like a conjurer magicking a rabbit from a hat, Charlie produced another piece of paper – ‘our honeymoon.’

  Willow silently scanned the document which confirmed a trip to… good heavens… the Bahamas. Flipping heck. Charlie must really love her to have gone to all this trouble. She’d be mad to turn him down. Crazy. You didn’t refuse your partner’s proposal just because a stranger in Australia made your heartrate zoom like a jumbo jet roaring down a runway. And how dare Emma ruffle her feathers and imply Charlie wasn’t the man for her. Accepting Charlie’s proposal would certainly prove
to Emma, if nothing else, that Willow was deliriously happy with Charlie.

  ‘Willow?’ Charlie implored. ‘Please don’t refuse me.’

  Slowly, shyly, Willow smiled.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, I will marry you on the seventh of December.’

  And as Charlie closed his eyes in relief, the entire restaurant exploded with a round of applause and even a couple of piercing whistles.

  Charlie slipped the ring on her third finger. It was the perfect fit. He’d even taken the trouble to get that right. He moved in closer and kissed her.

  ‘Phew,’ he said, over the din of everyone cheering. ‘For a moment there, you had me worried.’

  Willow tutted and smiled.

  ‘You never had anything to be concerned about.’

  And Charlie couldn’t help but smile at the irony of his new fiancée’s words.

  Fifty-Seven

  Willow was awoken on Sunday morning by Charlie’s erection jabbing her in the back.

  ‘Is my fiancée awake?’ he murmured huskily.

  ‘Well if she wasn’t, she is now,’ said Willow sleepily.

  As Charlie’s arms encircled her, she tried not to feel resentful at being disturbed. For the last hour or so she’d been in the sort of light sleep that produced vivid dreams. Her mind had been far away. Nearly ten thousand miles to be precise. In Australia. She’d been walking along a vast deserted beach. Despite never visiting this place, it had seemed familiar.

  The white sand had felt like soft flour between her bare toes. Willow had been holding a warm hand. A man’s hand. She’d never met the man, but somehow she knew him. They’d strolled along the shore in silence because there had been no need to speak. They were so in tune with each other, words hadn’t been required. The only sounds had been that of the waves as they endlessly shushed back and forth. The man had gently squeezed her hand conveying they stop. Together they’d stared at the ocean and the cloudless blue sky, enjoying the warmth of the sun on their faces. And then, wordlessly, they’d turned to face each other.

  Willow hadn’t been at all surprised to find herself gazing at Noah. His eyes had crinkled attractively as he’d smiled down at her. Both her heart and soul had expanded with joy. The experience had been comparable to a time lapse video of a rosebud swiftly blooming to full flower.

  ‘Willow?’ said Noah, finally speaking.

  He had looked at her with such love.

  ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’

  But now she’d never know what Noah had been about to say thanks to Charlie’s dick nudging her.

  What makes you think Noah was going to tell you something profound? sneered the little voice in her head.

  And a very good morning to you, Willow replied. Why don’t you just butt out?

  Why?

  Because my dreams are private.

  Not to me they’re not. Anyway, shouldn’t you be dreaming of your fiancé?

  I DO dream of my fiancé.

  Hm. Not recently. Not slushily.

  And your point is?

  It’s not me making a point. It’s your new fiancé, cackled the little voice as the tip of Charlie’s penis edged between her thighs.

  Willow had an overwhelming urge to slap Charlie’s willy away. Opening her eyes and catching sight of the ring on her left hand, she was immediately overcome with guilt. She was engaged! This was what she’d always wanted. And she was going to embrace it with open arms. And legs, if Charlie had his way.

  ‘I find you so incredibly irresistible,’ Charlie was now saying.

  His breath was coming in great whooshy gasps, hot on her neck and whistling into her eardrum. Now he was nuzzling her earlobe and leaving an unappealing wet trail as he tried to roll her over and kiss her on the mouth. Early morning snogs weren’t on Willow’s Seduction List. There was a lot to be said for minty breath and mouthwash.

  ‘I must have a wee,’ she said, wriggling out of Charlie’s arms.

  He sighed and flopped back against the mattress.

  ‘Don’t be long,’ he called after her.

  Willow made sure she was in the bathroom for a good ten minutes. First, she flossed her teeth. Then she thoroughly cleaned them. Then she decided her skin looked a little lacklustre, so applied a face mask. It had been one of the presents Emma had given her for her recent birthday. Willow read the instructions. It had to stay on for fifteen minutes. Oh. She might as well go and put the kettle on while it worked its magic.

  When she came out of the bathroom, Charlie did a doubletake.

  ‘What the hell is that?’

  ‘A face mask. My skin looked dull.’

  Charlie wrinkled his nose.

  ‘It smells peculiar.’

  He recognised the scent. He’d once caught Kev wearing one.

  ‘It has avocado in it,’ said Willow. ‘Let me go and put the kettle on.’

  ‘The kettle can wait, but I can’t… with or without the avocado face mask.’

  At that moment Willow’s mobile – resting on her bedside cabinet – began to vibrate.

  ‘Leave it,’ Charlie instructed.

  ‘But it’s Emma,’ Willow protested.

  ‘All the more reason to leave it,’ muttered Charlie.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘But I want to tell her my big news,’ Willow reasoned, diving over Charlie to reach the phone.

  As she threw herself across the mattress, her knee accidentally cuffed Charlie in the groin.

  ‘Ooof,’ he groaned, clutching his privates.

  ‘Sorr-eeee,’ Willow trilled, trying not to feel relieved that Charlie’s erection was now deflating faster than air leaking out of a party balloon.

  She snatched up the mobile.

  ‘Ems? Hellooo!’

  Willow was now dropping bits of face mask all over the duvet, but she didn’t care.

  ‘Blimey, you’re sounding very chipper,’ Emma laughed.

  ‘I am, I am,’ said Willow, bouncing around on the mattress with barely contained excitement. Another blob of goo parted company from her face.

  ‘I was feeling a bit bored so thought I’d ring for a natter.’

  ‘Be bored no more!’ Willow giggled.

  ‘Why, what’s going on?’

  Emma felt herself perking up. Willow’s mood was infectious.

  ‘Omigod, you’ll never guess!’

  ‘Probably not, so just spit it out,’ said Emma, laughing again.

  ‘Last night, Charlie and I got engaged!’

  There was a stunned pause before Emma replied.

  ‘W-Wow. That’s… amazing. Congratulations. To you both,’ she added.

  Emma was doing her best to sound delighted. This was Willow’s big moment. She must be pleased for her. But try as she might, she wasn’t.

  Fifty-Eight

  Over the week that followed, the news of Willow and Charlie’s betrothal was met by others with mixed feelings.

  ‘Hey, matey,’ said Ben to Charlie. ‘You’ve finally done it.’ He clapped Charlie on the back. ‘Brilliant news. I’m so pleased you’ve seen the light and are going to make an honest woman of Willow. She’s a cracker.’

  ‘She is,’ Charlie agreed. ‘From now on I’m going to be Mister Happily Married Man.’

  ‘Good to hear. And don’t forget. You said that if you popped the question, I could be your best man.’

  ‘I haven’t forgotten, and it goes without saying that I want you in that role. So you’re still up for it?’

  ‘Try and stop me,’ Ben grinned.

  Willow was walking across Mosley Library’s car park when she heard footsteps coming up behind her. Turning, she was surprised to see Anna.

  ‘Hello,’ said Willow. ‘Whatever are you doing here?’

  ‘Well it’s not to borrow a book,’ said Anna brusquely. ‘I’ll come straight to the point. This is something that needs saying face to face.’

  ‘Oh?’ said Willow, as a nasty feeling began to unfurl in her stom
ach.

  ‘I’ve rescheduled a work meeting in order to say this,’ said Anna gruffly. ‘That’s how important this is.’

  ‘Could you come to the point, please,’ said Willow.

  Outwardly she was calm. Inwardly her insides were knotting with tension.

  ‘Ben told me that you and Charlie are engaged. I’d like to say congratulations. But I won’t. Willow, you need to listen to me. You really do. You mustn’t marry Charlie.’

  ‘How dare you!’ Willow exclaimed.

  The two women stood facing each other, oblivious to their surroundings until a car tooted at them to move. Upon shifting, Anna grabbed Willow’s left hand and inspected her engagement ring.

  ‘Lovely. Unfortunately, Charlie isn’t. Look, I know I’m upsetting you. And I apologise. All I ask is that you think long and hard about what you’re doing.’

  ‘Now you listen to me,’ said Willow angrily.

  Her cheeks had turned pink from both the cold morning air and fury at Anna’s outrageous comments. It took a lot to make Willow mad, but she could feel herself getting justifiably worked up.

  ‘I’m sorry that you and Ben didn’t work out. And I’m sorry Ben never asked you to marry him.’

  ‘Hey, this isn’t about–’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Willow interrupted. ‘You’re jealous, Anna. Jealous because I’m with my man, but you threw yours away, and now you’re with no one.’

  ‘Who says I’m not with someone?’ Anna challenged.

  ‘Right,’ said Willow, momentarily wrong-footed. ‘Well, if you have a new man, bully for you. That’s brilliant.’

  ‘Yes, it is brilliant. It will be even more brilliant when he’s properly available.’

  Willow shook her head. So that’s why Anna was being sour. She’d found another guy, but he wasn’t completely free. Well there was no need for Anna to take it out on her.

  ‘But this isn’t about me,’ Anna continued. ‘It’s about you. I’m not quite the bitch you believe me to be, Willow. All I will say is, don’t throw yourself away on a man like Charlie.’

  And with that, she turned on her heel and stalked off to her car.