Honeymoonship Chapter 1: Buttercream

Jennifer was not a fan of wedding cakes. She hated buttercream frosting, and she hated the feel of it. It was tacky - in both senses of the word. Something original would have been nice, but it hadn’t been her choice. 

She looked at the seven-tiered chocolate cake that towered over her on the table. Her new mother-in-law had long usurped Jennifer’s bridezilla with a mother-in-law-zilla. Mama Kaiju had spoken, and damn it, that certainly was going to be the cake. Just like this was damn well going to be the dress. This uncomfortable dress that was miserable in the summer Spanish weather. It was a rental, of course, and it was going to be returned with sweat stains.

Jennifer’s eyes passed along the room, looking for her husband who was supposed to be there next to her. They had cut the cake, passed along the slices, and the others were eating. Jennifer would have eaten some too, but she wasn’t able to breathe in that dress, much less eat. 

And it was damn buttercream.

She looked around at the Spanish loggia, realizing she didn’t even know most of these people. She had expected to not know half of them, but she strained to find one person she did. There were her bridesmaids, their dates, the boy toy Cindy changed in at the last minute, and her parents. Other than that, no one else. 

Still, what she hated most was that the part she was looking forward to most, shoving the cake into her husband’s face, seemed hard to do without a husband around.

She told herself that she did love James, and she had long before she knew he was rich. But thousand-dollar cake shoving was nice. This wedding had cost more than her parents’ house.

She was ready to spend the rest of her life with him, richer or poorer, buttercream or not. 

Assuming she could find him. 

She excused herself while everyone else was enjoying the buttercream, and crossed the loggia back into the house. 

There was a room that she had agreed to meet him if things went South. It was a bedroom adjacent to the porte-cochère at the front of the house. They had agreed to meet there, right next to the limo, in case they needed to escape early.

She looked out the window of the room, and saw that the motor was running in the limo. Maybe James had already had the same idea. She remembered for a moment how sweet he was when they started dating. It had been surprising. Maybe the start of the marriage life would be just as full of surprises. 

She escaped the pretentiously white room and left the house’s front door. She snuck up in case others were looking, although she had no illusions she could go anywhere in that dress undetected.

She opened the door to the limo, and she found her maid of honor.

And her husband.

What she didn’t find were their pants.

“Jennifer!” James said gasping, catching his breath mid-thrust.

Jennifer stared, taking everything in. Whenever he would inevitably call later, she wanted to be able to remember this moment. She spotted a half-eaten piece of cake sitting on the opposite seat next to James's pants.

Friggin' buttercream.

James dove for his pants.

Jennifer grabbed the cake. With a precision that shouldn't have been possible in that dress, she caught James mid-dive, smashing the cake straight to his face.

It made a satisfying sound, crumpling with as much sturdiness as James's vows, and just as blinding.

Jennifer glared at Patrice, who froze. Jennifer's middle finger rose harder than anything Patrice had seen in the last five minutes, as Jennifer slammed the door. She turned away. Even though she could hear their muffled sound through the door, she ignored it.

She looked at her hand. Buttercream. She wiped it on the dress.