Betrothed

Elizabeth took a deep breath. The door opened, the wedding march started to play, and she began to walk down the aisle. Her father took her arm. He was senile, and frankly didn't realize she was marrying a Black man. If he did understand it, she figured he probably wouldn't be here.

As she walked down the aisle, taking slow steps, she looked out at the mostly Black faces in the audience. Since the engagement news went out, most of her white friends hadn't exactly shunned her, but they'd stopped calling and only answered Elizabeth's calls some of the time. So she started hanging out more with Antoine's friends, and her social circle was far more Black than it was white. Her best friend, Julia, however, was serving as her maid of honor.

She'd tried to book the same church that she and Douglas had gotten married in, but they'd had a 'conflicting engagement'. So they were here in the Black church, forging a new path, a new destiny.

Antoine looked handsome in a tux. He had a big smile on his face, as his prize slowly walked towards him. In front of her was Aaron and Emily, throwing flowers at the various guests gleefully.

Elizabeth finally arrived at the altar, and her life as Elizabeth Jefferson began.