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I had barely stepped down from the wedding car, hadn't even found my footing, when a crowd of the groom's relatives closed in on me, bamboo canes in hand.
I'd heard beforehand that weddings out here included a "humbling ritual," but Matthew Stephens had told me plainly that it had been dropped.
Matthew saw my displeasure, and his eyes went uneasy. "My mom says people will look down on us if we skip it. But don't worry, it's only for show."
"Please. Just do it, for the elders' sake."
Seeing how torn he looked, I softened and agreed. But the moment I took one step forward—
Thin bamboo canes came down all over me, lashing my wrists and my shins, the burning pain driving through skin and flesh into the bone.
This was not for show. I cried out from the pain.
"What are you screaming for? A few little taps and you already can't take it!"
The cruel words came wrapped in the crack of the canes.
Shaking all over with fury, I threw up my arm on instinct and knocked away the next cane hard, breaking free of the people ringing me in.
"What bride doesn't take a beating like this? You think you're too precious for it?"
"If we don't grind that pride out of you today, you'll be walking all over your man for the rest of your life!"
Matthew hurried to grab my arm, his whole tone begging me to give in. "Stop making a scene. Just bear it and it'll be over. Don't give the relatives something to laugh at."
I turned my stiff body to look at him. There wasn't the slightest ache for me in his eyes, only worry that he'd be laughed at.
A moment ago he'd jumped back at the sight of the canes, terrified of catching a stray blow himself.
I looked down at my arms, covered in red welts, the scalding sting of the canes unmistakable.
The gongs and drums were still clamoring in my ears, and everyone was waiting to watch me bow my head and submit.
But inside I had gone cold, and I quietly made up my mind.
This wedding was off.
...........
"Matthew, before the wedding you promised me none of these backward customs would happen. But it happened today, and you're still telling me to submit."
I looked at him, full of disappointment. His shoulders hunched and his eyes darted away, not daring to meet mine.
"Becca—I said so. But my mom wouldn't agree."
Watching this spineless, gutless side of him, I sobered up in an instant.
Plenty of men had chased me back then, but he was the one with no temper at all. Whatever condition I set, he never argued, playing the perfectly devoted boyfriend.
That was why I'd agreed to date him. I figured that if two people were going to build a life together, it was more comfortable to be with someone who went along with everything.
I never thought it came with one fatal flaw. Not a shred of backbone.
"Matthew, what are you still wasting words on her for?"
Matthew's mother, Zara Lambert, planted her hands on her hips, chin high and haughty. "Around here we don't have wives lording it over their husbands. If you don't lay down the rules for her today, how are you going to live with her later?"
The women beside her, canes in hand, chimed right in. "That's right, nephew, don't bring shame on the Stephens family."
"Every new bride who marries in here has had the rules laid down for her. What makes her so special? Don't you go ruining the way we do things."
Matthew looked at me warily and reached for my sleeve. "Becca, just bear it a little longer, for my sake. I'm begging you."
Looking at this gutless version of him, I was crushed with disappointment. My fist trembled where I'd clenched it, and I stared straight into his eyes. "Matthew, are you really going to make me suffer this humiliation?"
Once again he flinched away from my gaze, dropping his head and saying nothing.
My heart went cold, piece by piece. This was the man who last night had murmured in my ear that he'd cherish me for a lifetime, that he'd never let me suffer the smallest slight. And now, for the sake of some so-called rules, he couldn't get out a single word for me.
"Matthew, this wedding is off."
