The Nuclear Family Pt. 03

"You okay there Robbie?" he said with a grin.

"Yeah, butterflies just hit me, that's all," I replied, trying to return the smile.

As guests started turning up, I pushed down my nerves and started greeting people. It was an interesting mix of people. Our staff from ALRO and ALRO Homes were in attendance, with their significant others coming to around sixty people. This included Amy's overseas staff that she had flown in. I vaguely remember a couple of the Brown's extended families from my wedding to Georgia. Surprisingly, the Gold Coast Mayor and the current state government representative turned up, having been involved with ALRO for some time. I had met the mayor several times with Total Build. He commiserated with me around my departure but smiled from his eyes about my marriage to Amy and working with her in and around ALRO.

"By the way, I've always wondered, what does ALRO stand for?" the state representative asked me as we spoke.

I smiled. Though I suspected, it had taken me months to get it out of Amy; as it was, we were almost a month into our overseas trip before she told me. I leant towards the mayor and spoke in a low, practically conspiratory tone.

"Amy Loves Robbie Other." And I leaned back. For a moment, the career politician just looked at me. I kept the smile plastered on my face.

"No, you're kidding; you mean all these years?" He looked at me, a smile on his doubtful face.

I nodded. As the following guests to be greeted came up to me, he took his wife's hand and shook his head, laughing.

About half an hour before sunset, a limo drove up. I found myself holding my breath; Rayne got out quickly, making her way to the place of honour for the bride's mother at the front; as she came past, she promptly stepped up, kissing my cheek and smiling broadly at me before taking her seat. By that time, I looked up, and Amy was standing at the top of the stairs, her father, Peter, holding her arm, beaming broadly, about to marry off his only biological child.

Amy took my breath away. I think all grooms have that impression when they see the woman they are about to marry. With a bit of guilt, I thought back to my marriage to Georgia, knowing I had a similar feeling. With Amy, though, we had been through both joy and pain in coming together, so a couple of factors magnified the sense.

With Amy, I felt I had someone who wanted me for me, not just what I could give her. Georgia was beautiful, and I know she loved me when we first started dating. But we were in lust with each other before love. I must admit that with my family situation, I had thought a few times that we may have been placed together, feeling now; that my marriage to Georgia was never built on trust and friendship.

The music played, Ruth and Toni preceded Peter and my bride down the aisle.

Amy was gobsmackingly beautiful.

Her plain white strapless satin dress flared out at her hips. Her bridal train flowed almost two meters behind her. It covered her face falling over her eyes and ending at her nose. Her lips had a deep red lipstick on them, and I could see that she had a modest deep blue rouge around her eyes that matched the carpet she walked upon.

The minister spoke, but I barely heard the words as I was scared to breathe looking at her. I continued to stare into her eyes as we somehow managed to speak through our vows.

I was so excited. I felt my chest beating a mile a minute. I was marrying my business partner, my hero, and more importantly, someone I knew deep in my soul was my best friend.

The service continued as we stared at each other. In the background, we smiled as we heard the minister asking if there was anyone who objected to our union and to speak now or forever hold their peace.

Usually, everyone waits a few moments; there are a few sly smiles. Then everyone breathes a half-hearted sigh of relief as the ceremony continues. In our case, as Amy and I stared into the eyes of each other, we were oblivious to the group that had arrived part of the way through the reading of our vows.

"I object!" a voice rang out from towards the back of the crowd that had gathered along with our guests. Most of them were just people passing by that wanted to check out a wedding being held on the beach. But standing in the middle of that crowd was a group that would not leave me alone.

Standing at the front of this group was a pregnant woman who happened to be Amy's half-sister and my ex-wife.

Georgia strode forward, followed by Brad Jr, my mother and father. If I peered back further, I could see Joanna and her fiancé Chris.

The minister, a local pastor by the name of Gordon, cleared his throat. "On what grounds do you object?" Gordon was a good guy, Amy and I had met him thrice before today, and I was pretty sure he had never had an objection at a wedding ceremony before, judging by the look on his face.

Georgia looked at me, a pained expression on her face. "Because it's wrong. He's my husband. He can't marry my sister."

Amy and I looked at each other, raising eyebrows followed by a smirk as a wave of whispering rolled through the crowd. Amy nodded her permission.

"Georgia," I said, turning towards my ex-wife but never letting go of Amy's hand. "We have been divorced for a year now. And separated for almost twice that." I replied. I knew I would get a reaction, so I let her hang herself.

"That doesn't matter, my love," Georgia responded, her voice whiny... desperate... "You're mine, and you always will be. I've put up with you being in that sluts arms for a year, but you need to come back to me." Georgia replied. I watched Brad visibly bristle and my parents pale a little.

Amy and I laughed together. There were a few murmurs through the audience as people began to put two and two together. I glanced at Amy again; she gave me a naughty smile and an almost imperceivable nod. Fuck it, I thought. If they were going to do this, I might as well fire up the nuclear reactor giving everyone a bit of entertainment.

I took a deep breath. "I ceased to be yours the night I came home finding my older brother fucking your ass in my bed." The audience went deathly quiet at that revelation.

"I ceased to be yours as I listened to the two of you demeaning me in bed, talking about how you were going to make me believe the child growing in your belly was mine when you knew it was his..."

Harsh whispers now from the crowd, my family, we're looking a little nervous.

"I ceased to be yours when I found out my family had been hiding your affair from me for three years." I spat suddenly; the fire that Georgia stamped in with failed, and she shrunk back a few steps. My family also suddenly looked very uncertain of themselves.

Whispers got louder though you could still hear a pin drop between breaths.

"I can't be yours because you married my brother after I divorced your cheating, deceitful ass."

More looks.

"And let's not even talk about the fact that the child you are carrying is most likely that of my sister's fiancé and not even your current husband..."

The whispering stopped, and everyone again went silent. Georgia suddenly went pale.

"No, Georgia," I said, continuing my verbal monologue. "No, my betraying family, you have no right to object to my wedding to a pure woman who lifted me out of my depression at being betrayed by those closest to me. None of you has any right to object to me loving a woman who has given me everything she had. Saved herself for me and me alone, never having felt the touch of another man."

I turned and looked lovingly at Amy for a moment, who returned the look. Then I looked back at Georgia, who was now crying. I looked at my parents. My mother was also crying. My father was stoic, and my brother was turning red.

I briefly looked at Rayne, she was staring at Georgia, and her look was mainly based on sadness which appeared to be her default state when my ex-wife was the topic.

"None of you has any right to object to my marriage to Amy, and none of you were invited today. The betrayal you all wrought affects all of us, and I hate that I have had to air our dirty family laundry here above all days, but when will you get it through your thick skulls that I want absolutely nothing to do with any of you!" I finished laying it out.

We stared at them. Amy looked back at George, who nodded and left his place as my groomsman.

"I knew something like this could happen, so I had George prepare accordingly", Amy whispered to me.

"Brad Other, Hattie Other, Brad Other Jr, Georgia Other, Joanna Other," George stated authoritatively. "I have here a restraining order that immediately notes that you are not to purposely be within one hundred meters of Mr Robert Other or, in the next few moments, the new Mrs Amy Other for the next two years. Any knowing violation of this order will result in your arrest."

Amy nodded to her mother, who stood and walked to Georgia. They whispered for a moment, and then both George and Rayne escorted the four of them away. I looked over and noticed that Joanna and Chris were already gone.

It took around another fifteen minutes before we got back to the ceremony. In all that time, Amy had not let go of my hands once. Gordon cleared his throat.

"No with no more objections?" He looked around, and everyone chuckled.

He completed the ceremony, I lifted Amy's veil, and we shared a kiss as everyone, including the random people that witnessed the drama, cheered!

Darren then stood up, letting everyone know that due to a delay, everyone laughed. We would be doing photos on the beach right away, and then we would come back and greet everyone as Mr and Mrs Other.

We took about half an hour for the photos. Amazing shots were taken. The photographer was great. However, there were also some of the saddest pictures you had seen. As we were on the shore smiling and laughing, he managed to get a few photos of us laughing but in the background, quite far down the beach, was my family looking sad and forlorn. Over the years, Amy and I looked at that photo and lamented. It was a tragic situation.

Our honeymoon was spent in Greece, where we enjoyed seeing the sights and eating to excess. We met the locals during the day, dined in the twilight and made love until the early morning hours.

Once we got home, we got back to work. ALRO Homes was growing, and many people asked for our high-end products. One surprising area was farmers asking for single container homes for their properties, replacements for the old shearers' quarters. After a few requests, I had our team design an 'Outback' range geared towards the harsh Australian outback, the red dust and the lifestyle of a property hand. In that first year, once the word got out, we sold more of those units than any others.

As the CEO of ALRO, Amy was always working, but it only took a look for her to reschedule a meeting and spend a few hours with me. In fact, after the first few months of our marriage, she would make sure to come and interrupt me as I was working on some problem or another, not the other way around.

Our first argument was over something we had very differing opinions on. A nuptial agreement. George had prepared the document for us after I asked a few times and discovered that Amy kept cancelling it. We fought tooth and nail over the document one evening, both of us saying things we were not proud of. In a nutshell, Amy didn't want a nuptial agreement. I adored her for that, but I knew she needed legal protection for ALRO.

She screamed at me.

"You know what the company name means?" Amy's voice was a crescendo of emotion. "It means there is going to be no fucking agreement. What's mine is yours, and that is that!"

I argued back, saying I knew that, but she needed protection. The argument spiralled downwards. At one point, Amy insinuated how she now understood how my family felt with my head stuck so firmly up my ass that I couldn't see reason.

We both knew she didn't mean it the moment she said it, but it was said. For a moment, neither of us knew what to say. I looked at her, hurt by her words, even knowing she didn't mean them.

Moments later, I walked out on a sobbing Amy. For the next two hours, I locked myself away in the gym, working out so hard that my knuckles were bleeding. I didn't wrap them before working the punching bag, and I pushed myself well past exhaustion until I passed out.

I came to the gym floor, my head in Amy's lap, her tears staining my shirt. "Robbie, oh Robbie my love, I'm so sorry. Hang in there; an ambulance is on its way." At that point, she looked at me and saw me awake.

"Robbie, Robbie...." She kept moaning, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry", she kept repeating.

They took me to the hospital, checked me out briefly, then released me. In a hyper-emotional state, I just overworked myself physically after working some long hours on ALRO Homes and needed a bit more sunlight.

"I'll sign the agreement baby," Amy said as we snuggled into bed later that evening. "I'm sorry for what I said, it was wrong of me, and I feel horrible."

I kissed her head as she pressed her breasts into my chest, still softly crying.

"It's okay, Amy. I know you didn't mean it." I told her.

"I guess I'm not as perfect in your mind now. I feel... dirty." She said.

"Shhhh, You're as human as the rest of us, I know that. You were right, too. I know I can be a stubborn asshole sometimes. We just had our first real fight that all." I told my wife, holding her close to me. "Amy, you need to know that the nuptial agreement doesn't bother me because I know what's mine is yours and what's yours is mine for as long as we live. I just want the world off our backs if anyone or any of your investors ever asks. I married you, not your money."

"I know, baby," Amy responded as she snuggled into me. "It just felt like I was cheating on you by signing it."

After talking a little more and Amy rubbing herself all over me as we talked, my body started to respond. It didn't take long before we made love, the moonlight streaming into our bedroom, highlighting her body's soft curves and everything I loved about this woman. Afterwards, we were both content, finding peace after our emotional first fight.

The following week, Amy had to make a last-minute three-day trip to New Zealand. It wasn't expected. But a studio was looking to film a new fantasy series in the New Zealand wilderness. ALRO was a significant investor in one of the production houses the studio was looking to use, so Amy was asked to attend a series of meetings supporting the production. Amy had a more challenging time being away than I did that first night. She called me from her hotel in the evening, and we spent hours talking just like we did when she was home.

We did play a little over the video chat, which was fun. Watching your wife play with herself while observing her over an iPad is a bit of fun.

The following night, we didn't get to talk as she had dinner with the production team. But I sent her a text before I went to sleep telling her I loved her and would see her at home the following day.

In the morning, I headed to ALRO Homes, spending most of the day with our crews, ensuring we were meeting our schedules. I delved into meetings, spending time with the admin team reviewing our finances. We were on track to make a tidy profit for the quarter. We estimated it would be ten per cent higher than our projections, so I was happy.

When I got home, though, I started to worry. Amy wasn't home even though she should have gotten home hours ago. I tried calling her phone, and I only got her voicemail.

Over the next hour, I tried calling her on multiple devices through multiple applications. I called the ALRO manager, Maria, in New Zealand, who had not seen Amy since last night at the dinner with clients. I could sense she was a little out of sorts as I spoke to her for the third time, still not having heard anything from Amy.

"Maria, what's going on? What aren't you telling me?" I asked her.

"Nothing Robbie, it's nothing." She said unconvincingly.

I looked out the window, the sun setting over the ocean, and I could feel my panic begin to rise. Where was Amy?

"Bullshit Maria, my wife is missing, and you're not being honest. You need to tell me what's going on before I go to the Police?" I threatened.

The silence on the other end of the line was almost deafening. Then I heard a sigh.

"I don't know how comfortable I am with this, but last night we went out, the studio team, the production company and a few others." Maria started.

"Yes, I know, Amy told me," I said curtly.

"Well, Amy had a few drinks, and one of the production guys. Kurt, I think his name was. Well Kurt was a production manager and spent a lot of time getting all chummy with Amy."

I held my breath, trying not to let my imagination get ahead of me. I started pacing in our lounge room. "Maria?" I said, trying to find the questions I wanted to ask.

"I don't know, Robbie," Maria continued. I think she tried to respond to my unasked question. "Amy didn't look herself for most of the evening. When she got up to leave, Kurt followed her. I didn't see or hear from either of them after that."

Neither of us said anything for a moment. "I'm sorry," Maria said sympathetically.

We spoke for a couple more minutes. Maria told me she was checking with several people but had not heard anything. She had not yet gone to the authorities, but she would if she didn't hear anything within the next few hours.

I could tell that she feared the worst. Maria was at our wedding a few months ago and knew this had to hit me hard after watching the confrontation between myself and Amy's sister.

When I hung up, I almost collapsed onto the couch overlooking the balcony. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I tried to come up with scenario after scenario as to what could have happened as to why Amy would not be talking to me or why she and Kurt would have left, neither of them having been heard from for almost twenty-four hours.

I called Peter and Rayne, then Darren and Toni, to see if they had heard anything from Amy, but none of them had. I called the hotel. They told me that Amy had checked out but could not give me any more information. I tried everything I could think of, but I couldn't find my wife.

I was on hold, having phoned the New Zealand police, when I noticed car lights pass over the glass in the front door, indicating someone was pulling in the driveway.

In a flash, I was out the front, as a very timid Amy, very gingerly, was helped out of the car by the driver. I was at her side instantly as she melted into my arms and started crying the moment she felt my touch. The driver retrieved Amy's bag from the car's boot, looking at me. He gave me a sad smile, and I waved him off before he could say anything.

For her part, Amy clung to my side, not saying anything as I brought her inside and sat her down on the couch with a box of tissues. My wife sobbed, holding me close, never looking into my eyes. I could sense a fear in her that I didn't know how to address.

Inside, as I held her, I felt my heart breaking. My love for Amy far outpaced what Georgia and I once had, but in that moment, I felt I was doomed to be betrayed again. I didn't know if I had the strength to deal with a second betrayal. But I also knew that, unlike with Georgia, my love for the woman in my arms burned just as bright, if not brighter, than before she left.

I decided then that even if the worst had happened, I would forgive her no matter how bad it felt. If my heart had to break to keep Amy happy, I would walk that path.

We had not spoken a word yet, Amy holding me tight. I felt her shake a little, but her hands stayed firmly attached to me like she was afraid I would be gone the moment she let me go.