This is part of a short story I have writen. It is the first thing I have posted publicly so any feedback would be apreciated.

The sound of chatter in the room begins to rise, snippets of conversation and bursts of laughter carry across the room to the top table where we are sitting.  The guests are finishing their meals. The children are beginning to get restless from sitting for so long, desperate to run around.  I know how they feel what I wouldn't give to be speeding downhill on my bike, wind in my face, feet struggling to keep up with the pedals. It would give me a chance to sort everything that has happened today into order, so that in years to come I will be able to remember this happy day with clarity and affection. I look down into the remnants of my apple pie and custard trying to slow my thoughts. As the waiters appear to clear away the plates, time is slowly moving closer to when I will have to stand up and give my speech.
Today is the culmination of months of planning, dreaming, frustration and laughter.  The room looks just as we had imagined it; a room full of our closest friends and family. Supposedly, today is the happiest day of our lives. It is, well at least it would be if I didn't have to stand up and talk in front of all these people. The room looks great, I left the decoration plans to Anne-Marie, I'm glad I did. The rich purple sashes on the chairs match perfectly with the candles and compliment the silver of the heart shaped balloons really well.
I look at the table at the back of the room where all our friends are laughing and joking and recall the times we have attended weddings together. We had sat laughing and making fun of the grooms who were choked with emotion and stumbled over their speeches. We proclaimed we would never be like them; we would be cool, calm and collected. Yet now here I am in the same position as those we made fun of. Who had I been kidding? 
My stomach is tied in knots, even tighter than it was in church that morning. Not once did I doubt that she would show. I wonder if she was as nervous as I am now when she walked down the aisle with all eyes trained on her. I know Anne-Marie is pretty and I always knew she would look amazing yet she still took my breath away. Now I want her to feel as proud as I did then, as proud as I am that she is my wife. I feel for the paper folded neatly, nestled in the corner of my pocket. The result of the many hours spent drafting and rewriting my speech. I should know it word for word given the number of times I have read it. Yet now, in the excitement of the day, I can't remember a single phrase. 
The glasses of champagne are now being handed out around the room, the bubbles rising through the pale gold liquid. God, what I would give to gulp down several glasses of the stuff; my mouth is so dry. I will be lucky if I can manage a whisper let alone make my voice heard across the room, for the duration of the speech. The master of ceremonies approaches the top table ready to announce the beginning of the speeches. The guests look on expectantly dressed in an array of bright cocktail dresses and sharp suits.
'Ladies and gentlemen may I have your attention please. I would like to introduce the bride's father.'
The room falls silent as John stands and begins to speak. 
	I take in nothing he says. Suddenly I am back in the classroom all those years ago, waiting for it to be my turn to read aloud to the class. The nerves would eat away at me as they do now, whilst the person before me read. Then I would stand, try to focus on the words of the page, but they would start swirling on the page. I would try to speak but I trip over the words, misreading them and coming out with something completely different. The whole class would be staring, waiting for me to get it wrong. Then they would laugh really loudly until silenced by the teacher. 
I was judged on my performance then as I will be by Anne-Marie's family now. They are welcoming there is no doubt about that, I have got on well with her parents from the start. But this is on a much larger scale; all her extended family wondering why a rich, successful business woman would marry a builder. The answer is simple I worked for her dad's construction company, she was helping her dad with the planning and we fell in love. A true, encompassing love, yet I know some members of the family think I see her as an easy ticket to promotion. So now they will judge to see if they were right or whether I really love her a decision based on the words I am about to speak and the emotion I display.
	I'm sure the same is going to happen now. John is coming to the end of his speech. Whilst he rounds up, I stare into the flickering candles, taking several deep breaths, to try and calm myself.  A round of applause interrupts me. Now it is my turn. I grasp hold of Anne-Marie's hand, aware that my hands have become sweaty, and my heart is thumping fast in my chest. A reassuring squeeze of the hand, a smile from her and I slowly stand. Smoothing the creases from the piece of paper and clearing my throat, I begin.