World's Greatest Criminal Wife

Prologue

This feels so uncomfortable. This thing is choking me, I swear.
Flaversham loosened his tie, staring at himself in the mirror. He had never worn a suit in his life, but he figured his wedding seemed like the best time to start wearing one. Gazing at his reflection, all the confidence he had slowly dwindled away. He looked like an absolute fool, or, at least, he felt like one. His suit was too big for his skinny frame and his large, round glasses looked tacky paired with his formal attire. His ginger mustache and sideburns were messy and no matter how many times he tried combing them out, he was not able to fix them. How he managed to get someone to even accept his proposal was beyond him. It was getting too late to fix his appearance now. All he could do was hope Rose thought he looked at least somewhat decent.
He glanced down at his watch. 1:55. Only five more minutes until the wedding began. As the clock slowly ticked down the seconds, his hands began to shake with anticipation. He had been waiting for this moment since he met his sweetheart back in high school. They had been dating for so long, but now they would finally be together forever. She would always be there for him to hold and to shower with love. The very thought made his heart skip a beat.
However, in the back of his mind, there was a soft voice nagging him, telling him, no, screaming at him that something was off. Something was going to go wrong at this ceremony, he could feel it. He tried to push the voices away, trying to convince himself he was thinking to hard about it, but the panic quickly won over. He gripped the edge the table to steady himself as a wave of dread and panic nearly knocked him over. "Relax, Flaversham," he scolded himself through gritted teeth. "Everything is going to be fine. Now is not the time to panic." Nothing he said seemed to help. He wasn't even sure why he was freaking out so bad. He growled, lightly tugging on his ears in one last vain effort to calm himself down.
"Pull yourself together, you pathetic moron!"
"What is the matter with you? I can hear you screaming from the other end of the hall."
Flaversham yelped, whirling around to face the mysterious voice behind him. Monica, Rose's maid of honor, leaned against the door frame, one leg crossed over the other with her hands carelessly shoved into her pockets. She eyed him with an unimpressed stare as he hastily straightened himself out. "You look like a mess," she pointed out, her voice void of emotion.
"Ye-Yeah, I have noticed." He chuckled awkwardly, trying to break the uneasy tension in the room. "I'm not sure what has gotten into me. I'm fine now, though, don't worry."
She hummed. Clearly, she was not worried about him seeing as even her hum had no emotion behind it. As they stared at each other, he felt an uneasy lump rising in his throat. Her judgmental glare made him uncomfortable and he could sense hostility in her gaze. To be honest, he didn't blame her. They have had a rocky relationship since they met during their tenth year. She despised him and everybody knew it.
And now, with him about to marry her best friend, he could only imagine the rage she expertly hid behind her blazing yellow eyes.
She was going to make him pay for this, he could tell, even if she didn't show it.
"Well, you better get your shit together," she finally said, breaking the unnerving silence. "You have three minutes left. Don't want to be late, do we?" She disappeared behind the door again, leaving it cracked open behind her.
He glanced back at the mirror one last time. He still looked like total garbage, but he had no time to worry about it now. He quickly shook himself out before following Monica down the hall. His heart raced faster as he walked, but he tried to ignore it. He didn't remember the last time he had actually gone to church; it felt like years. Nothing much had changed besides a few new posters plastered on the shiny, white brick walls. He paused as the maid of honor rounded the corner into another room, taking a few deep, calming breaths before continuing on.
Once he entered the chapel, he instantly noticed how packed the room was. Flaversham had planned for this to be a relatively small gathering with family and a few friends, but it felt like everyone in Mousedom was in one place. Did they really invite this many people? He slowly padded up to the front of the room, stopping just before he reached the alter. As he waited for the bride, the soft music that filled the room eased his nerves, shutting out the panicked voices in his head.
After what felt an eternity, Rose finally appeared in the doorway, seeming just as nervous as he was. All eyes fell on the beautiful bride as she walked down the aisle, the grand piano welcoming her arrival. Her dress complimented her snow-white fur, her silky black hair shimmering like an obsidian gemstone. She was absolutely stunning which only made him feel uglier in her presence. Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself. Just focus on her right now.
Flaversham recognized Rose's father as he walked her down the aisle, gently holding her arm as they approached him. There were tears in his eyes and, honestly, he couldn't blame the poor guy. He was having to give away his precious daughter, his only child. If he were in that man's spot, he would probably be crying as well. Besides, he was a really gentle, sensitive guy. He would have been surprised if the man wasn't crying.
He held out his forearm to Rose as the pair reached him. She kissed her father's cheek, silently thanking him before taking his arm, holding it the same way she did before. He led her up to the alter as her old man sat down in the front row. Next to him, Rose's mother leaned over to comfort him, handing him a handkerchief from her purse for him to dry his tears. She was such a sweet woman.
The couple stepped onto the podium, holding each other's hands as they turned to face each other. The priest, and old grey mouse in fancy white and red robes, welcomed them with a bright smile. He flipped open his bible, reading the passages from the page while Flaversham focused on Rose's hands. Her fur was soft to touch and it soothed him to rub it with his thumbs. She smiled at him, a joyful tear running down her cheek. He wanted to wipe it away for her, but he didn't want to let go of her. He wished this moment would never end.
"Hiram?"
Hearing his first name for the first time all day caught him off guard. He looked over to the priest who grinned at him before asking, "Do you take Rose to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"
"I do," he blurted out. There was zero hesitation; he was just too excited. The priest smiled and turned to the bride, asking her the same question he asked him. She grinned, gripping his hands tighter.
"I do," she whispered, her smile bright.
The priest nodded and turned his attention to the crowd who watched with baited breath. "Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."
Nobody spoke. Flaversham felt relieved for a brief moment, but he soon noticed Monica begin to stir behind Rose. Her lip quivered as she opened her mouth, inhaling softly. Was she about to object? No, no, no! Flaversham tried not to let his panic show as he stared at her. She would not do this, not at her best friend's wedding... just to get back at me! His heart nearly raced out of his chest as he waited for her to speak, to say something, anything!
Nothing. She let out a silent sigh before snapping her mouth shut again.
What a relief.
After another moment of silence, the priest spoke again, this time to the lovers. "I now pronounce you husband and wife," he proclaimed with a friendly smile. "You may now kiss the bride."
Flaversham sighed happily, cupping Rose's cheek before pulling her in for a sweet, loving kiss. The crowd erupted into applause as the newly weds embraced. This was the moment he had been waiting for for years. She was his at last, and he was hers. Nothing was able to ruin this moment.
Nothing except the feeling of eyes glaring at him.
He opened one eye. Just as he suspected, Monica was staring at him again, her face twisted into a hateful scowl. She continued to stay silent, instead mouthing one word to him.
Lucky.
Lucky? What does that mean? What does she have planned?

"Hey! Earth to Flavy! Are you there?"
Flaversham snapped out of his worried trance feeling someone nudge his shoulder. James, another old friend from school, stood beside him with a sly smile. "I thought we lost you for a moment. Is something troubling you?"
"No, I'm fine," he sighed, smacking his acquaintance in the arm. "I have just... there has been a lot on my mind today, that is all."
James raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his water. "Let me guess, Monica has you worried, doesn't she?"
"How did you figure that out?"
"She has been angrily staring at you since the ceremony began," he told Flaversham. "You are not the only one who noticed, you know. She hates you with a burning passion, everyone knows that."
"Yes, I am aware, but why does she hate me so much?"
"I have no clue. She looked a little jealous to me. Maybe she was in love with Rose too." He chuckled at the idea.
"What make you say that?"
"I know that look from experience. You remember my friend, Felix, right?" Flaversham nodded. "When he got a girlfriend, I got jealous too. I can understand where she is coming from." James sighed before shaking it off. "But that is besides the point. I came over here to inform you that you might want to offer your wife a dance." He pointed at the bride who stood near a cluster of tables, chatting with Monica's brother, Sean. She seemed to be bored with him talking her ears off, her tail twitching behind her. Flaversham quickly fixed his tie before swooping in to rescue the poor damsel.
Hearing his footsteps approaching, she turned and saw him, her face lit up with a smile. Her grin was bright and beautiful, able to melt the coldest hearts. She gave him butterflies with every glance and he adored it. Sean noticed him as well, congratulating him as he left the couple alone. Rose gave him a hug, planting a kiss on his nose and making him blush a bright pink.
"I am sorry this is not the most extravagant party, my dear," he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Don't worry about it, sweetheart." She giggled as he kissed her cheek. "I have been having a great time, but I am glad you saved me from that boring conversation."
He chuckled, extending a hand to her. "Well, do you think I can make tonight more exciting with a dance?" He smiled awkwardly which made her giggle.
"Of course, darling." She took his hand. As he led her onto the dance floor, he could feel everyone watching them. Her tried his best to ignore it as they began their dance, swaying to the rhythm of the music. She laid her head on his chest with a warm sigh, making his heart flutter as he held her close.
After a while, he grew more comfortable with her in his arms. He spun her around, making her dress spin with her. She giggled, pulling him in for another kiss. He rested his chin on her head, patting her back as the song slowed down.
However, as the newlyweds finished their dance, he noticed Monica staring daggers at him. Their eyes locked as she snarled, making him flinch a bit. Lucky for him, her brother grabbed her attention, ending their fierce stare down.
What is her problem? Is she really jealous?
Rose pulled away as their waltz ended, kissing him one more time. This time, she added a little bit of tongue into the kiss, making him moan softly. With a wink, she ran off to talk to her friend who created her with a smile. The first time she had smiled all day. His wife was unaware of the dirty glares Monica had been giving him all day. Her ability to hide her emotions sent shivers down his spine. He feared she was plotting to hurt him or Rose, but it was impossible to see into her mind.
Damn it, Flaversham, stop overthinking everything!
He sighed and walked away hearing someone calling his name. He didn't even notice as the rat dropped a flower onto the ground and stepped on it, still glaring at him as he left.