As we sat in the small office, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander around to all of the certificates and diplomas on the wall. Who knew a priest could be so highly decorated? I fidgeted nervously in my seat, tugging at the hem of my dress and hoped it wasn't too short.

Nothing like coming across as whorish to a man of the cloth, I thoughtnervously.

"There's nothing to be nervous about honey."

I looked over at my cohort and smiled sheepishly. He squeezed my hand and I squeezed back as he looked at me reassuringly.

I looked at my watch and sighed. We'd been waiting for 22 minutes and I couldn't help but get antsy. I didn't really want to be here, but was unwilling to overlook the ugly looks I'd get if I hadn't shown up. I couldn't help but wonder what would really keep a priest tied up. Maybe it was an emergency exorcism. That sounded like something important and time consuming.

I looked over at the man holding my hand and smiled. I would go to church and be a good girl for him. He was worth it and I was happy to be what he wanted. I sighed contentedly and patted the top of his hand.

He looked up from his Blackberry and smiled kindly at me. He was happy too.

The door behind us creaked loudly as it swung open and a balding man with a paunch entered.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. There was a delivery issue with the upcoming rummage sale and I needed to get it sorted out."

Oh, so no exorcism then.

"No worries Father Stevens, I am so glad you are taking the time to meet with us today," he said as he shook the priest's hand.

"I wouldn't have it any other way. It isn't everyday that I get to speak with such an attractive couple. Please sit," he said as gestured to the chairs we had just stood up from. He rounded his desk and took a seat as well.

I smoothed out my skirt and sat down. I flicked my hair neatly over my shoulder and smiled tensely.

"Father, this is Isabella Swan, my fiancée."

The father reached across the shabby desk to shake my hand and I awkwardly stood/curtseyed to meet his reach. I had always heard people talk about Catholic mass being a sit/kneel/stand/repeat type event, but even meetings outside of the sanctuary were shaping up to be a mini workout. Maybe my ass, I mean butt, would tighten up with enough Sunday masses. I may even start going on Saturday's if things started firming up.

"It is nice to meet you sir, father, sir. And please call me Bella," I responded inarticulately. I felt a blush warming my cheeks. I didn't know exactly what to call him, but hoped I was at liberty to call him father. I didn't know if that was something only church members could do and seeing as this was the only time I'd been in a church in years…

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Isabella. I am glad that our parish's largest family is welcoming yet another member," he said as he looked fondly at my fiancé. I looked at him too and forced a smile. His family was like the fucking, I mean freaking, Kennedy's, nothing but money and pregnant women. I'm sure their tithes had the Father here resting comfortably with the nuns in the monastery. It was sort of creepy to hear him refer to me as 'yet another member.' It sounded a little Jonestown.

My groom and the priest exchanged more pleasantries and I listened to their comfortable rapport.

"Well kids, let's get to business. As you know, the marriage covenant isn't one that is entered into without much thought and consideration. I am very pleased that you are choosing to go through premarital counseling. There are many aspects of marriage that you don't consider until after the vows are taken. I like to think of this as an opportunity to air any issues and topics that may not have been discussed." He looked at me as he spoke and I couldn't help but think that he was seeing every naughty thing that I'd ever done. Hell, I mean heck, they were probably written all over my face.

I'm a sinner. I've had sex already.

I get drunk. I curse like a sailor.

I covet. I lie. I think dirty thoughts.

I looked over at my well groomed groom and saw him looking intently at the priest as he prattled on about marriage and the church. I didn't see those sins on him. I saw sweetness and kind words. I saw sensitivity and thoughtfulness. I saw a man who loved me and the person I should strive to be.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

"I always ask my couples the same question before we delve deeper into what marriage is and your answer is very important. I want you to be open and honest with yourself and each other when you answer," he paused and slowly moved his eyes between the two of us.

Shit, I mean shoot, I am no good at these honesty things. I'm no good on the fly. I can get a good and sincere answer together, but I rather prefer a day or two to mull things over. When he asked me to marry him, I thought about it for a day and got back to him. It was just another example of his unending patience and I appreciated it more than he'd ever know.

"I'm sure, Father, whatever you've got for us we can answer. Communication is one aspect of our relationship that we both take very seriously," he looked earnestly at the Father and again squeezed my hand reassuringly.

Who was he kidding? I never told him anything. Well, I do tell him stuff, but 97.83% of my conversations with him go on inside of my head. I think of it as avoiding unnecessary arguments and aggravation. Only 2.17% of the time do I actually spit out what I'm thinking. Don't get me wrong, we talk about stuff, I talk all of the time, but when we 'communicate' it is usually after I've had a few days to think it over and rehearse my answers.

In my defense though, I don't really tell anyone all of my secrets.

See the problem is as follows: I know how wrong I am for him and his sweetness, but I want to spend the rest of my life being what he wants and needs. I want to be the perfect wife for him and I want to work out my issues with him. And if we have forever, then I have at least a few days in there to think out good and honest responses to important questions.

The priest pursed his lips as he prepared his question. My breathing quickened and I braced for what was coming.

What could it be?

Was he going to ask me how many men I'd been with and whether I'd ever fantasized about being with a woman? More than 5 but less than ten and yes.

Was he going to ask if I'd ever been unfaithful or if I'd done drugs? Then I would have to ask if it counts if it happened in a dream and whether prescription drugs count.

"I want you to think of the one thing that the other person could do that would cause you to get a divorce and ponder it for a second," the priest leaned towards us with his elbows on the desk and his fingers knit together.

My mind raced through various unforgivable offenses: being a serial killer, abusing me or our children, cheating on me more than once…

"Now, I want you to think of the one thing that could tempt you to leave," he stated simply.

Technically there were two questions, but I let it slide.

I thought of what could tempt me away from my sweet groom. It wouldn't be money, because that wasn't an issue. It wouldn't be lack of fun things to do, because he was always coming up with things for us to do. It wouldn't be security, because he had our life all planned out. Then it hit me and I immediately felt foolish. If Robert Pattinson asked me, I'd leave my groom for him. I almost laughed out loud at the prospect.

Father Stevens' slightly nasal voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Now if you've thought of anything, I don't know if you're ready for marriage."

Say what? Was that like a cruel trick question?

My brow tightened and mouth fell open, but I quickly attempted to play it off.

"I feel confident in saying that there is nothing that Bella could do that would be unforgivable and nothing that could tempt me away from her. I hope to answer for her and say that the feeling is reciprocal," he said from beside me. I felt his hand reach for mine, but numbed to his touch as he wrapped his fingers with mine.

I frantically prayed that my face held back the emotions that were spinning deep within me.

I thought of a few things.

I thought about my unspoken response and like 97.83% of the 'conversations' that my great communicator and I have, I nodded dumbly and sucked back a scream.

Father Stevens looked knowingly from my face to the grooms.

"Well Mike, I know that you and Bella are ready for this. You two are obviously meant to be together."

But, as my handsome groom leaned in to give me a chaste kiss on the cheek, all I could think about was how much a plane ticket to Hollywood would cost.