Ahhh! Wedding day chapter!!

I love this one, so I hope you all love it, too ❤️

Next chapter will be a full honeymoon chapter, so keep an eye out 😉

Don't forget to comment & vote so I know your thoughts.

Happy holidays!

Love,
~ShoamEmily

~

20th of June, 1989
Michael is 30, Angela is 25

Angela: I woke that day feeling nothing but peace, with the softest light filtering through the curtains.

As my eyes blinked open, I felt Michael's arm drape lazily over me, his large hand resting protectively on my stomach.

The quiet of the early morning enveloped the entire room, and for a moment, it was just him and me; just us.

A smile spread across my face as last night played back in my mind.

He came in late, well past midnight, smelling faintly from cologne and alcohol.

His brothers dragged him to a bachelor party he didn't even want, though they managed to make a night of it.

My mom and Rosa already left me with a face mask, curled hair pinned to perfection, and wrapped in a bonnet.

After about a hundred kisses, they practically shooed me to bed with promises that they'd come wake me up after my beauty sleep.

But sleep never came. I had a hard time falling asleep without Michael by my side.

Rosa had been determined about keeping him and I apart until the ceremony, claiming it was tradition.

But Michael missed me. And I missed him just as much.

I was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling and feeling his absence when the patio door handle jiggled loudly.

As I saw him slipping in quietly from outside, his face soft in the moonlight, all the rules faded.

"Mike." I whispered, sitting up.

"I missed you." he murmured, his voice deep.

He crossed the room in a few strides, and before I knew it, I was in his arms, his lips pressing softly against mine.

He pulled away just long enough to say, "I couldn't wait until tomorrow."

Neither could I.

He'd made it past Rosa's 'tradition' in his own way, just to be here with me.

I didn't even care if my sister found out.

Or that she would see the bonnet, the pins, the curlers; all on my nightstand, taken out by him.

Now, I snuggled a little closer to his warmth, breathing in his familiar scent, and felt him stir beside me.

Michael shifted, his hand moving lower, fingers brushing against my belly button, playing with the soft skin there.

The light touch sent shivers up my spine, a wave of warmth spreading through my body when his fingers attempted to jokingly push the popped up belly button in, back to its place.

I didn't mind the pressure on the sensitive spot, it only triggered something within me.

It wasn't just the gentle press or the smooth glide of his skin against mine - it was the tenderness that made my heart flutter in response.

He'd been so fascinated with it since the first time he noticed it.

It seemed so far away now, that moment where we lay in our bed, as he confessed about his troubles.

Turning slightly towards him, his sleepy smile met mine.

We didn't need too many words; we'd said it all last night in the space between breaths and hands exploring places we knew so well.

"Good morning, Mike." I whispered.

"Good morning, Angie." he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on my lips.

"No nightmares?" I rubbed his chest.

"No. And I think I know why..."

His hands found my waist, pulling me to sit on top of him with ease.

I giggled and leaned down to kiss him again, my hair falling on his face.

His fingers now caressed the sensitive skin on the sides of my belly, tender touch sending another wave that made me slightly wet.

He felt it too, since he guided me to grind as our kiss deepened, and when I took control he groaned softly.

But a knock was heard, followed by the unmistakable creak of the door opening.

My heart jumped, making me roll off him and cover our naked bodies.

"Ange! Time to get up! We've got a busy da-" Rosa's voice cut off. I felt Michael's arm tighten around me, both of us caught red-handed.

Rosa appeared, her eyes widening as they took us in.

Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again, clearly searching for words while she stared at us in bed together.

"Angela, Michael!" she sounded half shocked, half annoyed. "But- Oh, come on, you guys.... It's bad luck..."

I bit my lip, holding in a laugh as I propped myself up on one elbow, the sheets tight over me. "Sorry, Rosa. He came in last night, and-"

"Alright, alright," she said, holding up her hand with a sigh and a hint of a smile. "No need for details, thank you. But seriously, get up, we have to get you ready."

Michael let out a low chuckle beside me, pulling me closer.

"Isn't it bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?" he teased my sister.

"Oh, please," Rosa huffed, but the softness of her expression told me she wasn't really mad. "Both of you are a hopeless case. Just hurry up, Ange. Mamma's got everything set up, and Julia's waiting to do your hair."

As Rosa left, closing the door behind her, I glanced back at Michael.

"You sure you're ready for this?" he mumbled.

There was a touch of vulnerability in his eyes, and I knew he wasn't talking about the ceremony or the crowd waiting beyond the gates.

Bill said they'd been there since last night, along with reporters who had been camping out for the last few days.

He was talking about a lifetime of these things.

The little-to-no privacy, the craziness that came with his world.

Our world. It was mine too now.

"More than I've ever been. And as for seeing me before the wedding..." I shrugged. "Rosa will have to suck it up."

He leaned in, kissing my cheek. "Guess I'll have to wait a few more hours to make you officially mine."

"I'm already yours, Mike..."

I pressed our lips together in a long kiss.

Never breaking it, he gently climbed on top of me.

He moved to nibble on my neck, making me laugh.

The door opened again, this time without a knock.

Rosa was back, waving her hands impatiently. "Michael, get off, or I swear-"

Michael put his hands up in surrender, quickly finding his briefs within the sheets.

He put them on, got up, threw on his robe along with a wink in my direction.

He paused by the doorway, giving me one last smile that made my heart skip, and then he was gone.

Rosa hustled over, shooing me toward the bathroom where the day would officially begin.

"Now, shower, and don't forget the whitening strips! I'll come help you shave in a bit!"

I rolled my eyes, but listened, closing the door behind me.

~

As I stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a plush robe, Rosa ushered me toward the vanity, where Julia waited with a hairbrush and bobby pins in hand.

The next two hours passed in a blur of laughter and some fussing while they worked on my makeup and hair, transforming me from the sleepy, bed-tangled woman Michael kissed this morning into a bride.

My heart fluttered with anticipation as I looked at myself in the mirror.

It's really happening.

When Michael Bush arrived, carrying my dress with a grin on his face, I couldn't help but giggle.

"Showtime, Angela." he joked and unzipped the garment bag, revealing my dress.

But when I slipped into the lace gown, I quickly noticed something wasn't quite right.

The fabric seemed tighter, clinging to my body in ways it hadn't during the last fitting.

As Bush fumbled with the zipper, a familiar wave of panic crept in.

"It was fine a few days ago." I mumbled, unable to shake the anxiety bubbling up.

Bush was focused, but as I caught a glimpse of my reflection, the reality of my situation sank in.

The dress stretched to its limit over my bump, my waist, and somewhat widened hips.

"Just breathe, it's all perfectly fine." he zipped it up, but it stopped halfway through my back.

Oh, God, no...

"Okay, let's try again." Bush said, adjusting his grip on the zipper.

I could sense his concern, but it still felt like my body was betraying me.

Each tug he made only added to my discomfort, making the fabric press tightly against my belly.

Rosa, noticing our struggle from the doorway, stepped in. "What's going on in here?"

"It won't zip," I admitted, my voice trembling. "This isn't happening..."

"Don't worry, we'll figure it out." Rosa promised quickly, but I could see the concern in her eyes.

After a moment, she turned on her heel. "I'm gonna let Michael know you might need him."

I felt a bit of hope at the thought of Michael coming in, glad my sister knew what I needed.

As Rosa left, Bush resumed his attempts, pulling the zipper up, but it caught again.

The pressure built up, in every sense of the word.

My babies suddenly kicked, and I let out a frustrated huff.

Bad timing, babies. Mommy does not need a reminder that you're here right now.

"Angela, breathe." Bush tried to calm me down, which did the exact opposite.

"How can I breathe when my own wedding dress won't fit?!"

Suddenly, I heard a soft knock on the half-opened bathroom door.

"Angie? You alright in there?" Michael's voice drifted in, ever so soothing.

Relief washed over me instantly.

"Michael!" I called desperately.

"Rosa won't allow me to come in," he replied, his tone teasing but also serious. "Tradition and all..."

"My dress won't fit, Mike..."

"Just take a deep breath," he urged from the other side of the door. And somehow, when he said it, I listened. "What do you need?"

I glanced at Bush, who was still trying to zip the dress. "I don't know! It's stuck!"

"Listen to me," Michael said, his voice steady. "You'll be incredible today, no matter what this dress does. Just focus on my voice."

I nodded, trying to breathe through the anxiety. "I just... It shouldn't be happening like this!"

"Relax, babe. You're gonna walk down that aisle, and be the most beautiful woman there. Just think about what's waiting for you on the other side."

Michael offered a hand through the crack in the door.

I grabbed it, intertwining our fingers, and took in another deep breath.

"Bush, is there anything you can do?" Michael asked.

"I'm going to try again. Okay?" Bush smiled through the mirror, his hands firm as he positioned himself at the back of the dress again. "I might need to loosen a few stitches along the waistline first."

"Loosen stitches?" I echoed, anxiety creeping back in. "Won't it be ruined?"

"No," Bush assured me, his expression serious. "We can always sew them back if we need to. We just need a little extra room for you right now. You'll only look a little less cinched in."

"Fine," I agreed, somewhat unwillingly. Michael squeezed my hand tighter. "I guess I don't have a choice."

With careful precision, he unpicked a few inner stitches.

It took him about 10 minutes, then he announced he was going to try again before pulling the zipper up gently.

I held my breath, every single muscle in my body tense.

"Just a little more." he said, sounding confident.

I felt the fabric shift comfortably around my belly and let out a sigh of relief.

"See, Angie? Everything's working out." Michael encouraged.

With one last pull, the zipper finally slid up, gliding smoothly into place.

"All good!" Bush announced triumphantly, stepping back to admire his work.

Michael's voice came through, full of excitement. "You look stunning, Angela. Absolutely beautiful."

"You can't even see me..." I rolled my eyes playfully.

"I don't need to." he remarked.

Bush smiled when he noticed the blush that appeared on my cheeks; even underneath my makeup.

I looked at myself in the mirror again, the nerves melting away as I took in the lace details and the way the dress hugged my curves.

"Thank you, Bush." I whispered gratefully.

Michael's presence was still warm just outside the door, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.

"I'm so glad you're here." I said in his direction.

"Always." he replied, and in that moment, I knew I could face anything that came next.

"Okay, out, out, out!" Rosa yelled frantically.

My soon-to-be husband let go of my hand, quickly saying how much he loves me.

Bush fluffed my dress as a final detail, before nodding, satisfied.

I thanked him again, then finally opened the bathroom door.

Rosa blinked, mouth slightly open, and I saw the tears form.

"Oh, Ange..." she came to hug me.

There was a long silence, yet she was telling me everything with her tight hug.

My mom was next, completely and utterly unable to control her crying.

"You ready?" Rosa asked, handing me my white rose bouquet, picked straight from the Neverland gardens.

"Ready." I nodded.

We met my dad and Luciano outside, a few feet away from where the ceremony was about to take place.

They intertwined their arms in mine, ready to walk me down the aisle.

I took in a deep breath, feeling the butterflies in my stomach.

~

Michael: The gardens seemed made for her today.

Roses bloomed in soft shades of white and cream, their fragrance filling the warm air, matching her bouquet and the details of her dress.

Angela held me captive, standing at the top of the aisle with her dad and brother.

Our guests, comprised of our two large families along with some close friends, audibly awed at her.

She was stepping forward, and with every inch she closed between us, I felt my heart tighten, unable to believe this moment was real.

Her dress flowed around her, delicate lace tracing her shoulders and collarbone, hugging her perfectly.

That long, dark hair of hers fell effortlessly against her, soft waves bouncing just a bit.

I knew she was worried for nothing. Gosh, she's so breathtaking...

My eyes lingered on her protruding stomach, where our babies were nestled safely within her.

Angela looked down as she walked, clearly a bit uncomfortable in her heels, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

She was radiant, more beautiful than I'd ever seen her.

The world blurred around her, and it was just me and her.

This was it - the woman I loved, carrying our future inside her, walking toward me to make it all official.

My fingers twitched slightly, waiting to hold hers, and my breath became quicker as she got closer.

When she finally reached me, her hand slipped into mine, fitting perfectly, as if it was always mean to be there.

I squeezed her fingers, feeling her return the gesture to say 'I'm here. I'm with you'.

Her eyes found my jacket's pocket, immediately tearing up when she saw the pin I added.

She ran a gentle finger over the familiar initials, then traced the outline of the castle.

"Michael..." she breathed.

I smiled, "I told you I'd wear it every day."

The Justice of the Peace began speaking, his voice calm and practiced, but we hardly heard him.

Angela's gaze never left mine, her blue eyes shining with something so deep, so real, it left me breathless.

We'd decided to keep our vows written and private, something just between us; words meant to be shared when it was just us, away from the world.

But even without reading them, I knew what they meant. I knew what she meant to me.

"Do you, Michael Joseph Jackson, take Angela Rakkel Brown, to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the Justice asked.

"I do." I replied, no trace of doubt in my voice.

He turned to Angela. "And do you, Angela Rakkel Brown, take Michael Joseph Jackson, to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

With a grin, she answered, "I do."

When it was time for the rings, Angela's hand trembled a little as I held it.

I lifted the ring I'd chosen, lined all around with small oval diamonds, that matched the centerpiece of her engagement ring.

As I slipped it onto her finger, I couldn't resist brushing a thumb over it.

"Angela," I whispered. "With this ring, I promise myself to you. Always."

She closed her eyes for a moment, as if to hold onto the words, and then opened them again, they were even brighter than before.

Taking my simple ring in her hands, she looked at me with that same steady gaze, her touch gentle when she slid it onto my finger.

Her lips curved into a soft smile, and I felt my heart ache with how much I loved her.

"Michael," her voice just as soft as mine, meant only for me to hear. "With this ring, I promise myself to you. Always."

The Justice of the Peace announced, "I now pronounce you husband and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson. Michael, you may kiss the bride."

But his words barely registered.

I was already reaching for her, pulling her closer, while her arms wrapped around my neck.

As I leaned down to kiss her, I let my hand rest gently on her belly, where our children kicked.

It was like they knew what was happening, their taps getting stronger and stronger with each moment.

Our kiss was slow, full of promises and everything I'd been holding in, pouring every bit of love into it.

As we finally pulled back, she looked up at me, smiling from ear to ear, tears staining her cheeks.

"We did it." she whispered, her fingers tracing my jaw.

I nodded, unable to speak, knowing that this was the beginning of something even greater.

Holding her close, feeling the warmth of her skin, and the life were creating together, I knew I'd never let her go.

~

The reception was absolutely perfect, just like the ceremony, and I reminded myself to thank Rosa for making it all happen.

With twinkling lights that decorated the gazebos around us, guests enjoyed the fresh air as the temperature cooled with the sun going down.

I looked at my wife, now more glowing than ever, the golden hues making her tan skin shine.

My wife.

After greeting our guests for what seemed like forever, all genuinely happy for us, Angela and I sat at our private table while everyone mingled around.

She leaned back in her chair, wincing when she kicked off her heels.

Her toes wiggled in relief. "Remind me never to wear those again. I don't think I could walk in them even when I'm not this huge."

"You're not huge." I reassured, taking her hand in mine.

"Sure, I'm not," she rolled her eyes. "I just couldn't fit into my dress this morning. How did these babies grow so much in just a few days?"

"Hey, stop it. It's all water under the bridge, right? You look absolutely stunning." I brought her hand to my lips, kissing the back of it.

She smiled, "You're very sweet, Mike. And very, very, handsome in that jacket. Bush really outdid himself."

"He did..." I trailed off, leaning down to kiss her.

Her lips met mine lazily at first, but the kiss deepened quickly.

Her arm draped over my shoulder, her fingers slipping into my hair.

My free hand found the curve of her back, pulling her closer as our kiss grew hungrier.

I felt her teeth lightly graze my bottom lip, a silent request for more.

But just as I was about to oblige, the sharp 'click' of a camera made us pause.

The photographer looked up from his camera, a surprised expression on his face. "Sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson. I was given instructions to take as many photos as I can, for the album."

I nodded, holding back a sigh as he walked away. Angela, however, was smirking.

"Mrs. Jackson," she repeated, testing it. "I like the sound of that."

"Mm, me too..." I kissed her again.

Another interruption, this time from someone with a soft, familiar voice.

"Michael?"

Angela and I looked up, meeting Elizabeth Taylor's warm smile.

"Liz!" I gasped, letting go of my wife so I could hug her.

She returned the hug, and held me as tight as ever.

"Oh, let me take a look at you," she beamed. "Absolutely magnificent. And that pin is adorable. 'M&A', huh?"

I bit my lip, nodding, "Angie got it for me for Christmas."

"Christmas? Since when do you celebrate Christmas?"

"You've missed some things..." I said, gesturing proudly towards Angela, who stood up. "Liz, this is my wife. Angela."

Without warning, Liz pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. "It's so nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much."

"Me too, Elizabeth." Angela said.

"Oh, it's just Liz, dear. No need for formalities, we're all family now. I must apologize for not making the baby shower, I was out of the country until last night."

But before Angela could reply, I noticed a change in her expression.

She suddenly looked uncomfortable, her face scrunching slightly as she instinctively placed a hand on her belly.

"Angie?" I asked, my heart sinking a bit. "What's wrong?"

Her brows furrowed deeper when another wave washed over her, and she glanced down, confusion all over her face.

"I... I don't know," she murmured, anxiety creeping into her voice. "It feels tight."

"Do you need to sit down?" I asked, moving closer to her.

She nodded, "I- I need Dr. Grey. Can you go get her? Please?"

"I've got her, Michael," Liz reassured, helping Angela sit and propped up her feet. "Go."

I didn't hesitate.

"I'll be right back." I squeezed Angela's hand reassuringly before turning to scan the crowd, spotting Dr. Grey chatting near the buffet.

As I approached her, I could see her laughing with another guest, long blonde hair still in her typical ponytail.

"Dr. Grey!" I called out, slightly breathless.

She turned, her smile fading as she noticed the urgency in my eyes. "Michael? What's wrong?"

"Angela... She says her stomach feels tight, and she's panicking. I think you need to come with me."

"Of course!" she nodded immediately, quickly turning back into the professional I knew her as. "Where is she?"

I led her back to our table, where Angela was now sitting upright, her hand pressed against her belly, her beautiful face full of concern.

"Thank you for coming." Angela panted slightly, reaching for me.

I obliged, intertwining our hands.

"Let's take a look, okay?" Dr. Grey said, kneeling beside Angela's chair. "Can you describe what you're feeling?"

Angela inhaled sharply, trying to calm herself. "It just... Feels like it's tightening? It's not too painful, but it's really uncomfortable. Like a bad cramp."

Dr. Grey nodded, focused. "That's good to hear. Remember what I told you about Braxton Hicks?"

"Braxton Hicks?" I echoed, glancing at Angela, who looked slightly less panicked now.

"Yes," Dr. Grey replied, keeping her tone reassuring. "Fake contractions, preparing the body for labor. It's common, especially when you're this far along. Angela, can you lean back for me? I just want to check you."

Angela did as instructed, exhaling when Dr. Grey pressed on her stomach. "You're doing great, just breathe. Any discomfort when I do this?"

"A little." Angela admitted, but I could see her visibly relaxing thanks to Dr. Grey's calm presence.

"Okay, that's helpful to know," the doctor glanced up at her with a smile. "You're doing really well, Angela. Sometimes stress can cause these tightenings too, especially during big events like this."

"Like my wedding?" Angela replied, managing a small laugh as the tension in her shoulders eased.

"Exactly! Just remember to stay calm. I'll be right here if you need me," Dr. Grey reassured, placing a hand on Angela's knee. "But for now, I think you just need to take it easy and stay hydrated."

"Thank you, Dr. Grey." I shook her hand, feeling a weight lift off my chest as I watched Angela's face relax more.

She turned to me, her eyes glistening with some unshed tears. "I'm okay, really. Just got a little scared for a moment."

"Nothing to be scared of, babe." I said, squeezing her hand.

Dr. Grey stood up, brushing her dress as she smiled at us. "I'll check in on you later, Angela. Enjoy yourselves."

Liz nodded in agreement, joining her to give us a minute alone.

As they walked away, I looked back to my wife, who was now smiling, her other hand rubbing her bump.

"See? You're gonna be just fine." I promised, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss.

"Thanks, Mike. I just got a little overwhelmed, I think." she admitted, her eyes locking onto mine.

"You've been under a lot lately, baby... Maybe your body is trying to tell you something?"

"Like, 'get off your feet, you're too big to be walking around'?"

I waved her off, "You really wanna start this again? You know I'll win."

She snickered, adjusting her feet that were still upright. "You wish."

I laughed, sitting next to her.

"I'm just glad you're okay," I whispered. "That way, this won't ruin our honeymoon..."

"What honeymoon?"

"That's all I'm sayin'. Can't ruin the surprise."

Angela huffed. "You know how I feel about surprises, Mike."

"And that's exactly why I'll keep planning them," I grinned. "Now, relax, drink some water, and I'll go get you more comfortable shoes. Okay?"

She nodded, grateful, her fingers brushing against my hair when I kissed the top of her bump.

I headed to find Rosa, knowing she'd probably have something in mind for Angela to wear on her tired feet.

I took one more glance at my new wife, completely and utterly overwhelmed that she was mine.

Her smile grew as a server offered her a large glass of water, and she thanked him, all while cradling her bump protectively.

They were mine. All three of them.