My sister Valarie was my Matron of Honor and looked stunning in the violet fitted gown. Mary Lou was in a lighter lavender tone of the same fit and flair. They both looked great. Dickie's sister Harriet, unfortunately, did not have a shape that this type of dress complimented but my mother could not be persuaded to let the girl pick a different style of dress in the same color. His seven year old niece, a tom-boy I could totally relate to, insisted on wearing pants under the cream puff confection that was her dress.

Sadly, it was a miniature version of mine. Yes, I, Stephanie Plum, will be walking down the aisle to be married in a lace overlay tulle ball gown with intricate beading over the entire bodice and skirt. As if that wasn't already too much, the bottom had layers of feathers that led down to the floor. Feathers?! God save me, feathers! My mother insisted I try on this monstrosity that weighs a ton and a half, and both she and Dickie mom practically swooned when they saw it. My swooning waited for the price-tag. Who in all creation pays $15,000 dollars for a dress they hate? That would be me, friends. I will be paying off this dress longer than I paid on my last car. And I like my car. Is it possible I am allergic to my dress? It may also be molting.

The whole wedding had gotten away from me if I am honest. 500 guests… And I am pretty sure I only know about 50 of them. And the flowers: there were twelve flower trellises at intervals on the aisle, featuring the same flowers, white roses, light purple MoonAqua carnations and purple Dendrobium Orchids were over the top, but then comes the dramatic, oversized floral display that transformed the alter into a garden of Eden.

The sit down meal was going to be a feast of six courses, with an elaborate dessert display. This was the only area that I really had any say in. There would be dancing after dinner with a live band until midnight, when the DJ would take over. Open bar and a designer cocktail had been added and I am pretty sure when all is said and done, the cost will be more than a nice house in the Burg. But Dickie seemed incapable of saying no to either of our mothers.

We had flown in their family priest to officiate- he has been living in Scotland since he retired. We flew in every relative either of us ever had. We had booked rooms in three different hotels. The sheer scale was enough to make me hyperventilate.

And now, as I find myself alone with my dad at the back of the packed church, all I can think about is running away.

This isn't what I want. I like Dickie, but I think I was too hasty in agreeing to marry him. Lawyer or not, we really hadn't dated too long. And today of all days, I ran into Joe Morelli.

Joe had been in the Navy until recently, and then joined Trenton PD. I hadn't spoken to him since… since the summer day when I was sixteen and he almost… he wanted to take me… I wanted to be taken… He had broken up with Terry because he joined the Navy and she was furious… And he came in the bakery and he kissed me and we were wrapped around one another and I was ready and he was REALLY ready and then he stopped.

"You deserve better than me, Cupcake."

He got up, pulled his clothes together and left me breathless and still virgin pure. He stopped when I never would have. He saved my virtue. The white I wore today spoke to that pure state… which may have contributed to Dickie's urge to have us marry sooner rather than later.

It never occurred to me, when I ran out at 5am for coffee the morning of my wedding, that I would see anyone I knew. But there he was, getting donuts and coffee. When he saw me, he shook his head and my hand went up to my hair in curlers.

"Hi Cupcake." He said as he gave me a coffee and paid the girl at the counter for both of us. "I wanted to say…"

My mind raced with possibilities. He loved me. He wanted me. He was sorry he left me wanting him. He was sorry he left me dreaming of him.

"…congratulations on … your wedding and everything…"

And he walked away… AGAIN!

It was three o'clock on the dot and the crazy wedding planner signaled that it was time for me to start down the aisle.

I was going to marry Richard Orr. I would be a lawyer's wife. I would live in a big house.

My dad answered the priest when he asked who gave this bride.

I would be a lady who lunched. I would, in time, be a councilman's wife. Maybe even a Senator's wife. Or, going completely off the rails, a President's wife.

I daydreamed and then I heard the old priest say, "Should anyone present know of any just reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."

And shocking EVERYONE present, Joe Morelli stood up and in a loud confident voice stated, "I object"