Page 31 of Four Aunties and a Wedding

My breath catches in my throat. I have seen so many brides in my line of work, all of them beautiful in their own way. There’s something about brides that pulls my gaze to them. I just want to stare at their dresses and their pretty nails and their meticulously done makeup, which is a lot less creepy than it sounds, really.

And now I’m one, and it’s indescribable. My wedding gown is a vision, hugging me snugly around my waist before flaring out in gentle waves all the way to the floor. I take in a shaky breath.

“You look ah-may-zing,” Selena says. She glances at her own reflection and frowns. I don’t blame her. Second Uncle has followed the Indonesian style of makeup artistry—everything has to be a highlight. So now, like Ma and Big Aunt, Selena is sporting really thick, dark, hyper-arched eyebrows, voluminous fake lashes, and huge, luscious lips.

“You look great too,” I say. I mean, she does, in a Kardashian sort of way.

“A bit too strip club,” she mutters, but then shrugs. “Ah, well, it’s fine, I can carry it off.”

“Yeah, you can.”

“Oh, Meddy,” Ma says, with a hand on her chest. She’s blinking hard to stop the tears from falling. “My baby, you so beautiful.” My three aunts all nod with teary smiles. I reach out to Ma and we hold hands for a while, not speaking, just smiling at each other and savoring this sweet moment.

The click of a shutter jerks me back to the present, and we all turn to see Staphanie, who takes another picture.

“Smile!” she says.

Except for Selena, who grins widely at the camera, my family and I scowl. The shutter clicks. “You guys all look great,” Staphanie says. “Anyway, sorry to break up the moment, but it’s time for your First Look session.”

Oh god. In all the excitement/awfulness, I’ve all but forgotten today’s schedule, including the First Look.

First Looks are exactly what the name sounds like—the moment that the bride and groom first see each other on their wedding day. In recent years, more and more couples have opted to do a First Look session because it’s a much more intimate way of seeing each other for the first time, rather than at the altar in front of hundreds of guests. The other reason why I adore First Look sessions is because from the photographer’s point of view it’s a much better way of capturing the delight on the bride and groom’s faces as they see each other in complete wedding attire. Of course, I doubt my photographer has given any thought to finding the best angles or anything. Not that I’m bitter about that.

I lift my skirt and walk over to my luggage, unearthing a gift I had gotten for Nathan. I take a deep breath. “Okay, I’m ready.”

When we leave the room, Ma and the aunties are all busy squeezing themselves into their neon purple dresses. Staphanie and I walk wordlessly down the hallway, our footsteps matching the increasing beat of my heart. Right before we get to the staircase, Staphanie suddenly stops walking and taps me on the arm, so I stop as well.

She speaks in a low voice. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you of the absolute importance of keeping this from Nathan.”

I don’t say anything.

“If he finds out, we will report all of you to the police immediately.”

“But why? He’s the groom; he has the right to know.”

Staphanie stares hard at me. “I think you know damn well that unlike you and your sleazy, scheming family, Nathan wouldn’t go along with it. He’d want to do the right thing and call off the wedding. He’d ruin everything.”

God, how much I’d give to be able to pop her in the face right now. But even in the haze of anger, I realize that Staphanie has touched on the truth. And isn’t that why I haven’t already told Nathan? Because deep down inside, I knew he wouldn’t let this go on. I grind my teeth and force out the world’s tiniest nod. “I won’t tell him.”

“Good.”

We resume walking. At the stairs, Staphanie calls her grandmother, who’s helping to coordinate Nathan’s arrival at the meeting place so that we don’t accidentally run into each other. Staphanie nods at me and we walk slowly down the stairs and into the beautiful cloister.

Right before we step out into the pristine cloister garden, Staph stops and says, “Don’t make me do anything I’ll regret.”

My stomach squeezes so painfully I think I might puke, while my chest leaps in anticipation. Goddammit, make up your mind, body. I take another deep breath, then walk out into the garden.

Nathan is waiting behind an olive tree. When he hears my footsteps, he turns around, and the delight on his face is enough to make me tear up. His eyes widen, his mouth drops open into a perfect O, and he crosses the garden in two strides and picks me up like I’m a doll.

“Oh my god,” he laughs, spinning me round. “Oh my god,oh my god. Meddy, you look amazing.” There are actual tears in his eyes. He puts me down and kisses me. “Mm, I love kissing your teeth.”

That cracks me up, despite everything. I lean in and hug him tight, so tight. My beautiful, wonderful groom. And oh god, he truly is beautiful, especially in his tux. He looks like a Disney prince come to life.

“I can’t believe we’re here.” My voice cracks just a little. So much has happened in our past that I never really let myself believe that this could happen.

“I know.” His voice comes out just as heavy with emotion.

Staphanie moves around us, taking pictures. I glance at her with mounting irritation, and she peers at us over the camera. “Don’t mind me, guys. Just pretend I’m not here.” Ugh. Having her in the bedroom with my mom and aunts was annoying enough, but having her here in this particular moment is so infuriating I want to break off an olive branch and beat her with it.

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