Delivering the Virgin

By: Cassandra Dee

And my new husband lost it then.

“You fucking fucked my face while I was passed out?” he screeched, jumping up and down like a monkey. “Do you realize how wrong that is? We were saving it for marriage, we were supposed to take each other’s virginities, it was supposed to be a special time and you’ve fucking ruined it!” he screamed. “You whore, you slut! You’ve ruined it.”

But I just smiled. I swear, Gary was so handsome but juvenile sometimes. He should have thanked me for using him as my fuckdoll, how many guys ever got the opportunity? But I couldn’t get a word in because my new husband really flew off the handle then.

“I wish I’d never married you!” he screamed, yanking his wedding ring off and throwing it into the far reaches of the room, the metal band disappearing under some furniture. I sighed and rolled my eyes. At the time, I thought this was over-the-top dramatic given that we’d just lovingly exchanged vows not twenty-four hours ago in front of dozens of friends and family. But Gary couldn’t be stopped, he was serious.

“You better not be here after I get out of the shower,” he ground out, his face mottled, spittle flying from his lips. “Get the fuck out,” he raged before stomping into the en suite.

I just shrugged, not taking him seriously. I figured a hot shower would calm him down, help take the edge off the hangover, but that was my mistake because my new husband was actually dead serious. When Gary came out of the bathroom and saw me sitting there still, calmly finishing my breakfast, he stomped over to the closet and began throwing random things into a suitcase.

“What are you doing?” I asked, eyebrows raised. As a newlywed of twenty-four hours, I never expected what happened next, not in a million years.

“I’m leaving,” he stated coldly, not even looking at me. And I shrugged, not too worried. We’d had fights before and I figured Gary just needed to cool down, we were meeting some family for a post-wedding brunch in a few hours, surely he’d put on a smile and act like a happy groom even if he was still seething inside.

But no, Gary actually checked out of the hotel and disappeared. Just like that, he became an invisible man nowhere to be found, ignoring all my texts, my pleading voicemails, my desperate attempts to reach him. And I was really embarrassed.

“Where is he?” whispered my mom during the brunch. We were supposed to be celebrating our nuptials, but one half of the happy couple was nowhere to be found. “Your husband was drunk last night but still, honey, he should be here,” she said reprovingly.

“I know Ma,” I replied, whispering out of the side of my mouth. “But Gary stormed out this morning, raging mad, and I haven’t seen him since.”

Linda paused.

“But what did you fight about?” she asked, her eyes confused. “You were literally just married yesterday, this makes no sense.”

And I shook my head, shrugging, red coloring my cheeks. This was not the time to tell my mom, or anyone, that I’d rubbed my kitty on my groom’s face while he was sleeping. I’m not sure which part was worse … that I’d done that to an unconscious man, or that my new husband, who was supposed to adore my kitty, had stormed out in anger after he found out.

So I just shook my head, shifting gears.

“I’m sure Gary will come around,” I said reassuringly. “He’s probably just running a little late, maybe he needs to get gas for the car.”

But to my utter embarrassment, that asshole didn’t show up. Didn’t come to his own wedding brunch, leaving me humiliated in front of assorted family and friends, making apologies and excuses when we should have been putting on a show as lovebirds, cooing at each other, romantic with stars in our eyes.

“Well,” said my mom tightly. “I hope this is a one-time thing for your sake.”

I nodded.

“I know, Ma, I know,” I said soothingly. “I’m sure Gary will come around, this was just an aberration, he’s usually really responsible and kind.”

But the look in my mom’s eyes wasn’t so sure. Maybe Linda knew something that I didn’t, or maybe it was the fact that she’s been married four times, but my mom’s instincts proved right. Because my new husband had gone certifiably crazy, he pulled the plug on our union       just like that. Gary never moved into our new apartment, never moved his stuff in, never applied for the extra parking space we’d talked about. Instead, the incident on our wedding night opened a can of worms and I realized the man I’d married had been a mirage, a figment of my imagination.

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