You must be mistaken; I’m not your bride.
Why on earth are we doing this?
This incident truly happened and ended quite unfortunately for one woman—actually, two women. But it all started rather ordinarily.
John’s folks had been eager to see him settle down. Just think about it—handsome, healthy lad, employed as an assembler at a defense firm, earning a hefty salary, yet strolling around single. He only gave a small portion of his income to his parents and spent the rest on mindless entertainments and dining out, without any intention of buying a car. He could save for one in six months, or even faster. But why bother? With money at hand, you can easily take a cab. A fairytale life, indeed. In his free time, he was well-fed and merry, with no one to nag him—except his parents, naturally. But they were parents, so they nagged. John thought they could go on nagging for all he cared.
However, his mother and father saw things differently. After much deliberation, they decided on a drastic approach. They struck up a deal with a woman named Fiona, who lived next door and had a daughter perfectly eligible for marriage yet somewhat ignored by all. Fiona approached John under the guise of needing help with a heavy bag on a narrow path.
John, being kind-hearted, agreed to assist. In gratitude, Fiona sat him at her kitchen table and poured him some brandy. Everything was so warm and welcoming. “We’re simple folk, John,” she said, “and we greatly appreciate kindness in others. We want to treat you for your generosity.” John didn’t decline; a woman was asking, after all. He knocked back the drink, and she poured another. Something to keep on his feet.
Then, Fiona’s daughter, introduced as Gina, waltzed into the kitchen. John smiled spontaneously, but it was a mistake. Fiona invited him back the next day for Gina’s supposed birthday celebration. Slightly tipsy, John agreed. After all, it was Saturday, no harm in partying a bit. And party he did. So much, in fact, that he woke up there the next morning. By Monday, he went straight from there to work. In the evening, he glumly told his parents, “Seems I’m in a fix… I have to get married now…” His parents exhaled in relief and smiled.
The days to the wedding flew by quickly. It always seems that way; time rushes when there’s much to do. They had to book the venue, tailor the suit and bride’s dress, find the perfect rings that appealed to the bride, pay for transport for the couple and guests in advance… Watching his money slip away to who-knows-what made John gloomier by the day. Especially since he wasn’t in love with Gina. He had merely blurted out while drunk, half-jokingly, that as an honorable man, he should probably marry—but Gina and her mother clung to him relentlessly. Now, why should he suffer just because he blurted something out?
Gina, in her joy, added, “Get ready for the bride price, John!”
“What?” he tensed. “How about we keep it simple? I’ll come to pick you up, we’ll sit in the car, and go to the registry office.”
“No!” the bride insisted stubbornly. “I want it the way Mum says.”
“Oh, the way Mum says…” John muttered through gritted teeth, recalling their first encounter, where he helped Fiona carry her bag home. He suspected their meeting wasn’t so accidental but part of a well-devised plan by his future mother-in-law.
Yet, the big day arrived, and with a heavy heart, John donned his groom’s attire and set off in a hired car to collect the bride. He felt foolish; he could have walked there—it was just the next block. But tradition demanded the groom arrive in style.
As soon as he entered the building, bridesmaids attacked from all sides, demanding he pay for each step leading to his happiness. Feeling exhausted, and keen to have them back off, he handed over pre-counted bills. He was growing increasingly irritable from the ceremony, and the looming thought that he’d soon have to lie in the registry that he loved the bride agitated him further.
Cursing everything mentally, he climbed to the second floor, entered the “sacred” flat, only to find five brides instead of one, each with her face veiled with white lace.
A bridesmaid pointedly announced, “Now the groom must identify his beloved Gina on the first try. Each mistake will incur a heafty fine!”
“So, you expect me to pay a fine too?” John mumbled, but everyone laughed, taking his words as a joke.
For a solid minute, he stood glaring at the veiled girls, realizing his window to escape was rapidly closing. The guests thought he was trying to recognize his bride, but he was fighting off the verge of fainting to make a right decision.
Finally, he took a step. He picked the girl whose figure and height most contrasted with Gina, grabbed her hand, and nervously exclaimed, “Here’s my bride!”
He announced, and swiftly exited with her, not releasing her hand. She, mistaking the commotion for harmless fun, laughed and followed willingly.
The crowd erupted, shouting, “The groom chose wrong! Ten thousand penalty!”
While they shouted and laughed, John and the girl dashed to the car, and he ushered her inside.
“What are you doing?” the girl realized, reluctantly getting into the car. “You’ve got the wrong bride!”
“I know!” John cried anxiously and directed the driver, “Step on it! Get us out of here, fast!”
The car smoothly rolled away, and the girl hurriedly pulled away the veil.
“What are you doing? You’ve made a mistake! Stop the car!”
“No, I haven’t!” John shook his head furiously, his eyes meeting hers full of desperation. “I haven’t made a mistake at all!”
And then something very strange and inexplicable happened. Perhaps the girl read something very familiar and comforting in his eyes, for she suddenly calmed down. She cautiously asked:
“Are you sure, John, that you’re doing the right thing?”
John, still locking eyes with her, nodded desperately.
“So you don’t love Gina at all?” she asked again.
“I loathe her,” John whispered, each syllable dripping like venom.
“Where are we headed now?” the girl inquired.
“Where to? The driver asked in confusion. “Aren’t we going to the registry?”
“No, chief…” John said sadly. “We’re not going there.”
“I don’t get it!” braked the driver sharply.
“Now I probably need to hide somewhere…” John looked into the understanding girl’s eyes again, and she smiled.
“Do you want me to hide you?” she offered.
“Hang on, you lovebirds!” the driver exclaimed in frustration. “Why aren’t we going to the registry? I’ve got your whole route planned!”
“Don’t worry; we’ll compensate you generously,” the girl assured confidently. “Just take us to this address.” She provided the street and house number. John quickly added, “Yes! We’ll pay double! Just please, if my relatives start calling, don’t answer!”
There was a massive scandal, of course. John’s parents, along with Fiona, even wanted to report him missing to the police. The officers just laughed and suggested going on TV to appeal to the runaway groom.
John spent two weeks hiding from home, and Valerie—the girl with whom he made his escape—became enemy number one for her friend Gina.
Yet, a couple of months later, John and Valerie tied the knot—lovingly, on mutual terms. The man settled down after the wedding, became a model, sober husband. Indeed, he purchased a car. But they had to choose their new home far from Fiona and her daughter’s residence.
