Someone was knocking at the front door. It came again. Where was Jen? I didn’t get a fingernail in the ribs to wake me up this morning.

I rolled over and groaned. My face felt sticky. Every time I blinked my eyelids hurt slightly from whatever oily sticky stuff was caked over them. There was a note on the bedside table, folded and propped up so I could read it across the bed:

You looked too cute to wake
Time to say bye-bye to the bachelor life! HAHAHAHA
Just be there at the right time, ok?
— your future wife

After rubbing my face, my palm was bright and pink with lipstick. She had kissed me while I’d been asleep. Several times. Now she had left, and the bedroom was empty and quiet now.

After the sleepiness melted away, it hit me.

The wedding. Today. It was today.

I jumped up and ran over the bed.

Through the bedroom window, the regular sight of Jen’s fiery red Mazda was gone. Instead, there was a different car parked in the driveway, one I hadn’t seen parked outside the house in some time.

After a long breathless jog to the front door, I gave the voice command and it opened electronically. I craned my neck up at the visitor.

Stuart met me with his light parted hair, and usual goofy smile. I was relieved to see he was in better spirits compared to the last time. Now he was all ready for the ceremony, wearing a suit and some self-consciously shiny shoes. I was in pyjama pants and my face was still bright pink.

“HEY, JERRY!” he said.

“Hi Stuart,” I said quickly, “Jennifer’s not here right now.”

He chuckled. Then he bent and carefully scooped me up in his hands.

“GLAD SOMEONE’S STILL POSTED ON BASE KEEPING GIRLBOSS DISTRACTED. SO THAT’S ME OUT OF TROUBLE.”

He was still calling Jen the ‘boss’. What a mark she left on him.

“LET’S GET YOU TO THE CHURCH,” he explained, “BEFORE SHE FIGURES OUT THERE’S A HOLD UP, AND COMES AT MY NECK FOR BLOOD.”

He waited in the living room while I made myself a bath. When I came out he was looking over some photos on the mantelpiece.

There used to be photos of him and Jen. Now it was photos of Jen and I. She had to be creative posing us because of the huge size discrepancy.  In most, I sat on her shoulder or was pressed against her cheek, or smooching lips. Stuart turned away with slight unease. Some of the photos were raunchy, but not pornographic.  In one of them I was carrying her ass cheek like Atlas holding up the world. The reason I looked strained in that photo was not because of her weight, but because she had accidentally sat on me twice trying to angle the selfie correctly. But no reason to blush at that. The really pornographic ones were on her phone.

I rode in Stuart’s pocket as he drove us to the ceremony venue.

Of course Jen booked up the most lavish cathedral in the area, not a stony antique but something modern. And incredibly tall. The entire building was big even for a normal size person. But it needed to be. Guests were beginning to flock around the entrance, and…whoa. The cathedral entrance was swarming with a sea of people.

“Stuart,” I exclaimed, “who are all these people?”

“THEY’RE YOUR GUESTS,” he replied.

I searched the packs of guests for familiar faces, and then ran my palm over my brow.

“I don’t know who half of these people are.”

With a plummeting feeling, I realized why Jen booked such a big cathedral.

“Maybe they’re on Jen’s side of the guest list.”

“THEN IT LOOKS LIKE HER GUEST LIST HAS ITS OWN GUEST LIST.”

A further plummeting feeling, this time like I’d been socked softly in the gut. So many people, all clamoring to see the spectacle of a very tiny man wed a normal size woman. Even a TV crew were setting up outside the cathedral, and being rebuffed by security stationed outside the entrance. You couldn’t get in without showing an invitation. Trust Jen to want the wedding run like an exclusive nightclub.

Stuart flashed his invite and we went in.

It was big as a hangar inside the cathedral. The soft floor lighting and padded pews and a modern interior. It was like a talk show studio, but with draping aisle runners and tall florals. At the other end, before the altar, on the groom’s side, there was a monolith like a lectern, almost the height of a man. A white card on top said: GROOM. As if there was any doubt who would be standing on it.

The importance of the day was suddenly bright and real and inevitable. I was going to be married in this room, and wouldn’t be leaving here until I was. She would be my guardian, next of kin, keeper, wife -- everything. Every conceivable right and claim over my being, my whole existence, was going into her hands. Literally.

I needed air. I tried to get Stuart’s attention but he was quickly pulled aside, out of the flow of people.

“YOU’RE STUART,” said a familiar voice, leading us into a smaller room to the side. “GROOM’S QUARTERS IN HERE – YOU HAVE HIM?”

Stuart held me up. Away from all the people I got a look at the man’s face.

“Yo, Scott,” I piped up.

“YO, JERRY!”

“I didn’t think you were coming.”

Scott closed the door, shutting out the buzzing thoroughfare, giving me a second to think.

The groom’s lounge had sofas, a TV, a mirror, and a poker table. If Jen had finished getting her hair done at the salon, she would be in the equivalent bridal room with her bridesmaids. There was no seeing her before the ceremony, no time left for conversation, confession, epiphany, compromise…

Scott returned.

“OF COURSE I CAME,” he said, “YOU’RE STILL MY BUDDY.”

“Got any advice for me?” I said hopefully.

He looked startled. My heart sank.

“LOOK, MARRIAGE IS WONDERFUL…AND TERRIBLE. BUT IF YOU NEED A PAD TO CHILL AWAY FROM THE MISSUS WHEN IT GETS TERRIBLE. THERE’S STILL US. TASH AND I. UBER DOWN OR SOMETHING ON A WEEKEND. WE’LL MANAGE ANY BLOWBACK.”

“Thanks Scott.”

I changed into my tuxedo while chatting to Stuart and Scott, and five minutes later, all dressed, feeling a little better. It was great Scott was here, but – ‘blowback’ ‘terrible’– why did he have to make it so ominous? Before I could ask him more about it, he went out to help security filter the guests from curious onlookers and reporters.

I paced on the table, drinking the incensed and floral air into my lungs. Then I checked my reflection in the mirror across the room, while Stuart stood idly in the reflection’s background, all six foot of him. I wondered if he hadn’t cheated on Jennifer, whether they would still be dating, or even whether he would be the one standing here in my place. Stuart was tall and friendly and conservatively handsome. If he couldn’t make it work with Jen, what hope did I think I had…?

I stuttered out:

“So how are you and Margo doing?”

Stuart smoothed his jacket and then shoved his big hands in his pant pockets.

“OH, WE’RE TAKING IT SLOW, I GUESS YOU COULD SAY,” he murmured. “VERY, VERY SLOW. I MEAN, STANDSTILL.” His shoulders slumped. “ACTUALLY, WE’RE NOT TOGETHER ANYMORE.”

I spun around and faced him.

“What happened?”

“THAT MARGO,” he said fondly, “SHE’S NEVER IN THE SAME PLACE FOR LONG. AND YOU KNOW ME, I’M MORE OF AN ARMCHAIR-WARMER MYSELF. WHY DO I ALWAYS FALL FOR LADIES HEADING DOWN THE FAST LANE?” He chuckled humorlessly. “ANYWAY, WE SAID OUR GOODBYES AND SHE FLEW SOUTH.”

The door tilted in questioningly. We both turned.

“JERRY…?”

Natalie’s face appeared, searching, and then spying me on the table. She beamed at me and her voice swelled with affection.

“BIG GUY!”

She slipped into a seat at the table I was standing on, bringing her face closer. I stopped and peered up at her.

“THEY PUT YOU IN A TOP SECRET VAULT IN HERE,” she said breathlessly. “I NEARLY HAD TO BRIBE YOUR DOORMAN TO SEE YOU.”

“You look gorgeous, Natalie,” I said before I could help myself. But it was true; she was wearing a ruffled pink dress and her hair was done up with a stylishly messy wave. She looked like a fairy-tale princess if anyone did.

“AWW, BUT WHAT ABOUT YOU?” She gave my tuxedo one of her warm, million dollar smiles. “YOU ARE ADORABLE – AS ALWAYS.”

She leaned right in, her breath beat against my face for an instant, and then without hesitation she kissed me on the cheek. Her lips also captured mine by accident, and the soft suction of her kiss got me stuck for an instant. My heart thudded in my head. Realizing what she’d done, she giggled and blushed. I didn’t know how to react. I reached for her finger and squeezed it awkwardly.

She managed to compose herself before me, and decided to pretend that it didn’t just happen.

“DON’T YOU DARE SAY YOUR VOWS BEFORE I CAN WISH YOU GOOD LUCK!”

“No way,” I said weakly, “I need all the luck I can get.”

Hearing the quiver in my voice, she gently took each of my hands between a thumb and forefinger, and stroked them.

“LISTEN,” she said earnestly, “YOU’RE GOING TO BE A GREAT HUSBAND. I KNOW I MAY HAVE SAID SOME THINGS ABOUT MARRIAGE THAT I SERIOUSLY REGRET NOW. BUT THAT WAS JUST ME BEING THE BIGGEST DOPE EVER IN EXISTENCE—”

“Natalie,” I gently interrupted her. “What you said was…honest. I am little and it’s…a fact of life.”

As if she hadn’t heard me:

“BESIDES, IF ANYONE NEEDS LUCK, IT’S ME.”

“What do you mean?”

She pressed her lips together.

“NO…I…OH, FORGET IT…”

“What?”

“GRANT’S NOT HERE BECAUSE, WELL, WE THINK WE’RE DOING GOOD ON AMICABLE BREAK TERMS RIGHT NOW...”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

She gave my hands another little squeeze.

“DON’T BE.” She beamed. “IT JUST MEANS I HAVE SO MUCH MORE TIME TO HANG OUT WITH YOU! AND I NEED TO FIND ME A YOGA BUDDY TO REPLACE GRANT – WHAT DO YOU SAY, PARTNER?” She poked me in the chest and challenged: “CARE TO DO THE DOWNWARD DOG WITH ME?”

“Uhh..”

She giggled at the innuendo. Possibly even intended it. She and Jen still talked. Alarmingly, Jen’s ribald nature didn’t deter her. Maybe it was even rubbing off on her.

“Well my cardio is good for yoga again,” I said, politely ignoring the innuendo. Provided my body was still in one piece after the honeymoon.

Stuart went out of the room to help Scott with something. Natalie’s gaze crept over my head, watching him leave. When she looked at me again, her pupils were slightly dilated. She moved her head in really close as if admitting a secret.

“UM…WHO IS HE?” she asked, in a hushed tone.

“That’s my best man, Stuart,” I replied. “He’s a friend. And he,” I felt compelled to add, “used to date Jen as well. I guess we have the same taste in women.”

“HE’S TALL,” she blushed.

“Careful. He’s single.”

“REALLY..?”

Then Stuart came back and Natalie jumped to her feet. Reading her mind, I introduced them, which probably wasn’t a good idea as pretty soon they were both giggling and blushing. And suddenly Stuart was leading Natalie in a slow dance to ‘practice’ for the post-ceremony dances although it became obvious neither needed practice.

Before Natalie slipped out of the room, she gave me another peck on the check for ‘good luck’, although now she seemed distracted. Stuart also seemed distracted, and didn’t speak for a moment.

“SHE WAS… WOW,” he mumbled.

In less than an hour the ceremony would begin, I would be tethered to Jennifer for life. And I was petrified. The two things I fantasized about having most were: Jennifer, and being big again. But I couldn’t have both. Even if I found another way to regrow, even if I had the guts to experiment with Remy’s machine again and succeeded, something special I had with Jen would be lost, and nothing about a full size relationship would recapture it. We would both change, orient away from each other somehow. I would no longer have to depend on her, and she would need to find some other willing subject for kinky experimentation. 

It was the final hour to decide which of these I wanted more, before the choice was taken away. The thing to do now was to sit back here in the lounge and wait, and not go back out the church's door, even if I snuck out in someone’s pocket. Who would understand that I felt a little stifled, anyway? Stuart might. He might give me a break. Okay, focus. What did I want? I did want this – I mean do want it. But all at once, for life, with no clean escape? No breaks Jen didn’t come with an ‘off switch’.

“What am I doing?” I yelped.

Stuart stared at me.

“SOUNDS LIKE YOU’RE ARTICULATING PRE-WEDDING JITTERS,” he answered. “I’M PRETTY SURE THAT’S NORMAL.”

“This is anything but normal.”

Stuart looked alarmed. He found a chair and plopped down.

“YOU KNOW IF YOU BAILED NOW, YOU’D NEVER GET OUT OF HERE ALIVE.”

He was only half joking.

“I know,” I said.

If I tried to run from the altar it would be the shortest chase ever. I would only make it midway down the aisle before Jen snatched me up, and, huffing with irritation, reinstall me at the altar, chiding me for my lack of faith in the tradition, and demanding the officiant to get it over with, marry us dammit!

Are we marrying already?  I thought suddenly. The wedding day had pounced on me like a wild animal. This is what my married life would look like: being casually stuffed on her person while she ran errands, while being talk-bombed about every impulsive thought she had. Doubling up for showers and baths. Being standby make-up applicator, foot massager, nail trimmer and painter. Getting her off at 3am. Getting prodded and tickled awake at 6am for another ‘quickie’. And again at 7am. Her eyes always asking: Do you love me? Prove it.

So don’t run from the altar. Run now!

A gush of cool air fanned in as Stuart had the door to the lounge held open and was chatting to someone from outside. This was my chance.

Don't take the front door. Scott was out there doing border control. There had to be a back door. Then Natalie’s voice burst into my head:

Can you honestly picture us getting married?…I want to be standing side by side with my groom…

The drive to run emptied out of my body immediately. I was flooded with guilt. What was I thinking? I couldn’t do this to Jennifer. This is what Natalie did to me.

I calmed and Stuart came back inside to get me. The ceremony was going to begin. I leaped to my feet and ran to the edge of the table, begging to be given away.

The cathedral ceiling was as big as the sky and stellated glass windows lit like the city. It was too big to take in, so I gazed out at the guests. But that was an even more arresting sight. A sea of heads packing the pews, murmuring and shifting restlessly. Giant feet shuffled over the floor as the last few guests quickly took their seats. Cameras flashed in my face.

The seated people stared at me like I was the ringleader of this glamorous circus. But I didn’t a better idea what I was doing than anyone.

Stuart, my best man, had plonked me up here, on this standing pillar, to remain for the ceremony. From the top of the narrow platform it was a 150 foot drop to the floor. I was stuck.

Then, heads turned as the room hushed.

From the other end of the room came the bride. Maybe Natalie was the fairy-tale princess, but Jennifer was a queen, in a gown that tapered at her waist and clung to her butt, with the ruffled train sailing along behind as she went down the aisle, on heels which alone outclassed me by size. Jasper Tomlin was at her side, with his salt and pepper sultan’s beard.

She surveyed the masses proudly, smugly, made eyes at some friends, and played up for the cameras, dropped Jasper off at an empty pew at the front, and then was looming over me. My platform fell short of standard adult height, making it only up to her neck. Looking at her glorious height, I felt up to my neck as well.

She inclined her head at me, and gave the shoulder of my tux jacket a tug.

“VERY NICE,” she said.

My brain struggled to make sense of everything. I never imagined I would ever marry Jennifer. When I first met her she seemed untouchable, too fast and mysterious for domestication.

Before us, the officiant broke into his service and I gratefully turned away from the cathedral’s staring audience. His voice reverberated around the ceiling and then a lavalier was put into my hand and my other curled around Jen’s fingertip, while I said my vows. The mic gave my voice a burst of misleading volume. Jen took my palm under her thumb while she repeated her vows.

Satisfied, the officiant declared:

"…I NOW PRONOUNCE YOU HUSBAND AND WIFE. YOU MAY NOW KISS THE BRIDE."

I gazed up at my wife's lips.

Easy for you to say, I thought, disconsolately.

Without any self-consciousness she moved in on me. The veil was pushed back and her beautiful face appeared before me. Her warm breath beamed over my face.

She placed her fingertip against my head to keep me in place and then her big full lips gave me a long, fierce kiss that caused a tingling sensation in my balls.

Her oppressive size made a kiss so intimate, pulling me out and spreading me onto her skin, and I felt myself on her huge lips, being absorbed into them, passing a little into them, into her mouth where the cathedral lights went out, and meeting in the dark with her warm wet tongue. For an instant I enjoyed the point of view of a piece of food she was about to swallow. There was a series of sharp pains as her smooch restlessly vacuumed my head. Her bulky tongue swished over my face. Suddenly my head was on the outside again, my hair was wet, my eyes felt sticky and my cheeks burned red, and the cathedral was ringing with cheers.

Jen eagerly scooped me up and took me down the center aisle. Her fingers were curled around my body and her thumb gently rested on my head, rubbing my hair. She could not stop touching me, sweeping at my hair and thumbing my face lovingly.

Out of the cathedral, there was a limo waiting to take us to the reception. The reporters were also waiting. We were caught in a mob of cameras. Jen’s stride didn’t falter but for an instant her exhibitionism prevailed; she held me up, trapped in her fist with just my head poking out, and pressed her lips to the top of my head, pointing my face at a stream of dazzling camera flashes.

The reporters were calling out with questions but Jen was already sliding into the awaiting limo. There was nothing more to say.