What do you mean you won’t take his surname? my mother-in-law bellowed across the registry office.
Emma never actually dreamed of getting married. Yet, at nineteen, she found herself unexpectedly expecting, thanks to her long-time classmate and boyfriend of three years. She didnt see much choiceshe wanted her baby to have a dad.
Her boyfriend, Mark, was older, though only in years and not a bit in maturity. Mummys boy through and through. Still, he didnt boltvowed hed marry her and raise their child. So, wedding arrangements it was.
Emma would have been content just signing the register and popping for chips afterwards, but the families insisted on grandeur. She could not fathom why anyone would spend a small fortune on prawn cocktails and old aunties when a pushchair and a stack of nappies seemed a better investment. Not a soul cared what Emma thought. The restaurant, dress and guest list were all chosenby whom? Her future mother-in-law and her own sister!
When summoned for the dress fitting, Emma nearly staged a sit-in protest. She envisioned herself as a walking meringue dotted in diamantesher sister and Marks mum had never been accused of style, but soldiered on anyway. When Emma voiced her doubts, she was called ungrateful and got the full family cold shoulder. Not that she cared one iotaher mind was fully occupied with A-levels, exams and preparing for babys arrival.
Come the big day at the registry office, Emma wore a simple white dresstasteful, lovely, and, crucially, nothing frilly. Thats when the real entertainment began.
None of Marks family knew Emma was keeping her own surname. Mark himself had been told and shrugged. His mother, sensing a family drama in the making, went crimson and shouted, Honestly, what kind of woman doesnt take her husbands name?
Emma just smiled and sidestepped towards the biscuits. She had bigger battles ahead: the grand wedding reception in Marks village, where every cousin, auntie and the vicars cat seemed invited. Best to conserve the nerves.
Not that it mattered for longthe marriage barely outlasted the wedding cake. Mark proved himself a hopeless husband and worse father, glued to his computer every weekend and barely acknowledging the family. When Emmas patience finally ran dry, she packed her bags and left.
Her mother-in-law was, predictably, appalledoutraged at Emmas reckless independence. Emma, for the first time in years, exhaled deeply. She was finally free. And very, very happy.
