Marry Me Read Free Page B

said,’ she would whisper, at the first sign of ostentation. ‘
One should only celebrate a happy ending; celebrations at the outset exhaust the joy and energy needed to urge us forward and sustain us in the long struggle. And of all celebrations a wedding is the worst; no day should be kept more quietly and humbly
.’ I was inclined to agree, so when she accepted my proposal I looked forward to a simple ceremony among our immediate family and very closest friends.
    One thing led to another, and a year later I found myself in a white suit, riding a bejewelled ostrich across a castle drawbridge and into an enormous room packed with guests, plenty of whom neither of us particularly liked.
    Shortly, an eighteen-horn fanfare heralded the arrival of my bride. She rode in on a white horse with what looked like an ice cream cone stuck to its head in an attempt to make it look like a unicorn.
    â€˜What would Goethe have made of all this, then?’ I asked her, as we dismounted and prepared to exchange vows.
    â€˜Ah, who cares?’ she said, glowing with delight.

FATE
    When it comes to matters of romance, my fiancée is a firm believer in destiny. ‘If fate has decreed that I end up married to you,’ she’ll sigh, ‘then there’s not much I can do about it, is there?’

DRESS
    My wife’s final wish was to be cremated in her wedding dress, and when she slipped away I tenderly prepared her body just as she had asked.
    When I carried her into the funeral parlour, the undertaker took one look at her and shook his head. With impeccable politeness, he explained that even though the dress was very small, the black rubber it was made from would cause a terrible mess in the furnace, as well as sending an acrid aroma through the surrounding streets. ‘I am afraid, sir,’ he said, ‘that there are rules about this kind of thing.’ He saw the dismay on my face. ‘Perhaps,’ he suggested, ‘madam had something in her wardrobe which was comparably whorish, but rather more likely to conform to council regulations?’

CHEER
    My wife told me she had turned herself inside out trying to find a way ahead for us as a couple, but no matter how hard she looked she just couldn’t see one. She knew in her heart that our marriage had run its course. I didn’t know what to say, and just stood there looking really sad. In an attempt to cheer me up, she started tickling me. ‘Tickle tickle tickle,’ she said. It didn’t work; I just carried on looking despondent. She tried again. ‘Tickle tickle tickle.’ I remained downcast. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘You’re taking this even worse than I thought you would.’

ALBUM
    Six months into our marriage, my wife told me she was leaving. ‘It’s not going to be easy for you,’ she said, ‘but there are plenty of positives you can take from the situation. Mainly, you should just be grateful that you had me at all—most men don’t get near a girl like me their whole lives.’ She handed me a photograph album containing page after page of pictures of herself in erotic poses, and explained that she had been compiling it over the preceding weeks, with the intention of helping to soften the blow of her departure. ‘It’s all very tasteful,’ she said. ‘There’s no split beaver, or anything like that.’
    I leafed through it, and there she was, draping her bikini-clad body across a motorcycle, pouting in high heels and lingerie on a mountaintop, and fondling her naked breasts under a waterfall. She told me I was welcome to show it to my friends and family, and brag to them about having had repeated sex with someone as hot as her. ‘I did one for my last husband when I left him,’ she said, ‘and I know it really helped.’
    The trouble is, she’s nowhere near as attractive as she thinks she is; if anything she’s a bit funnylooking,