schizo // heathers

seven

Veronica

Three months after we got engaged, JD and I got married. Most of the money was spent on my dress, as Heather shrieked if I refused to wear a nice and poofy dress. I did my own makeup and hair, as everyone I knew thought I was dead. My name was still Veronica in the fake documents JD had forged for me, but my last name was different. I had no family with me as I slipped into my dress.

When I finally looked at myself in the full-length mirror, I cried. I still wasn't showing very much at all so I didn't look pregnant, which I was sort of thankful for. And it was probably the stupid pregnancy hormones making me emotional. That and the fact that it was my literal wedding day. Besides, things with JD had continued to be on the up and up. I wasn't regretting this.

Sure.

I walked myself down the aisle at our wedding with no witnesses aside from two nuns who graciously offered. They smiled at me when I looked at them. Standing where the maid of honor would was my mental image of Heather Chandler. She looked the same as always, still in the long pink robe she died in. Her lips still stained blue.

JD was waiting for me by the priest. I was shocked when JD said he wanted a proper wedding. I had expected him and I to just take a trip to Vegas. But I didn't mind, not really. Finally I was at the altar. I felt like I was about to throw up.

We said our vows, just the standard ones. Neither of us wanted a priest listening to what we consider loving sweet talk. Then we kissed and it was over. We left, went home and consummated our marriage consensually. It was the first time we'd had sex in a few weeks as JD listened to my NOs now. Which I was thankful for.

It's the bare fucking minimum.

Piss off, I chastised Heather mentally. My smile turning into a grimace as I grit my teeth to will her away so I could enjoy this moment. I fell asleep in my now husband's arms and it wasn't until later that I woke up in excruciating pain. JD wasn't in bed with me, which frustrated me. I shouted for him and he rushed up to our room.

I was bleeding. Not a lot. But it was still pretty scary. We headed to the hospital and the doctors told me that I was in fact nine months pregnant, not the five JD insisted I was. They also told me that I was in labor and that there wasn't any time for drugs. I cried the entire time and hardly listened when they announced what sex my newborn was. JD smiled at me and kissed my head. It wasn't until I was handed a baby in a pink blanket that it sunk in that I had a daughter on my wedding night. I laughed. We named her Emily Jane Dean. Get middle name was after JD's mother.

It's still only 1991 and I had only just delivered my first child. Emily was born with hair around my color, which is a medium brown and quite a bit lighter than JD's almost black hair. She was an easy baby to breastfeed, the nurses insisted I try, but she took forever to burp. I swear I spent more time burping the damn girl than actually feeding her. JD wanted to try and of course, the second he did, she burped. This cemented the idea that she'd be a daddy's girl in his mind. He smiled at me happily. I smiled at him, despite the fact that I was still in a lot of pain.

Without any hesitation, or urging from me, JD sat in the rocking armchair and rocked Emily to sleep. Which only took a few minutes, she was pretty sleepy by the time she finally burped. He stood up carefully and put her into the bassinet between us. "Thank god." He commented as he sat back down.

"What?" I asked him.

"I can finally stop being fucking nice to you." He sighed, speaking quietly as to not wake Emily.

"Oh." I replied, a lump rising in my throat.

"Just don't do anything stupid and we won't have any problems." JD clarified what he meant. "But you're not pregnant anymore, I don't have to keep my hands off you." He added, his voice hardly louder than a whisper.

"For fucks sake, JD." I scoffed. I had accidentally said this at a normal volume, but thankfully I didn't wake the baby.

What an asshole.

And there's Heather, here to make my day worse. "I'm just warning you is all. You've been perfectly fine." JD went on.

"I don't want you to hit me." I informed him, as if he was unaware of this.

"Sorry." He shrugged. "I'm gonna go get you some McDonald's, I'll be back in a little bit." He added, getting up from the chair and leaving.

Looks like your husband isn't so perfect.

And now I'm stuck with him.

Yep.