Page 69 of Not Your Basic Love Story

“That’s a lot to have going on the same day.”

“You’re right. It can’t be at the wedding.” He paused, looking away from the camera to think. “What about at the engagement party? We could get pictures in the backyard with the mountains and the fields.”

My face must have lit up at the idea because he was smiling.

“Great,” he said. “Let’s do that, then. It’s your special day, too. Just because we’re getting married in two months doesn’t mean it can’t be everything you wanted it to be. I want this all to be perfect, for you to look back on our wedding and only think good things.”

I blushed at his phrasing, imagining us at eighty reminiscing about our wedding together.

He continued. “If there’s anything else bothering you, anything at all, please tell me.”

Where would I begin? The giant rock on my finger was too heavy and too flashy. The one time I’d met his family, his mother had basically scorned me, and I’d spent the rest of the night in the bathroom with a fiery butthole. I was destined to live in a giant mansion surrounded by his entire family. My wedding was coming up in two months, most of which I had zero control over, in a ceremony completely foreign to me and unlike how I’d ever imagined. How we were going to raise our children, or even name them, was still up in the air. And the panic rising in my chest any time I thought about any of this was enough to make me sweat profusely.

“Everything’s fine.” I smiled.

“Good. Oh. I have an engagement present for you. I’m going to drop it off as soon as I can sort out the details.”

“Details? What details?”

He smirked. “It’s a surprise, but you will love it.”

I couldn’t imagine what he had in store.

We exchanged “I love yous” and “goodbyes” and then hung up, Dev needing to make more calls to ensure everything was going to be on track for the upcoming events.

His call disappeared and left me on the screen with my messages from Graham.

I was once again called back to my imagination, to the wedding I’d envisioned, to who was going to be standing next to me.

Then, I imagined Dev. Tall, dark, handsome Dev, with his stunning features and classic smile, with the eyes that still took my breath away. The way he looked at me, really, was what I loved, as if I were priceless artwork. He touched me the same way, his caress intentional but gentle, always balancing his needs with my own. When I imagined my future, the rest of my life, Dev was there. Without question.

The wedding was a means to that destination, to happily ever after. It was one day. It meant the world to him and his family and less to me, and so was it really that much of a compromise?

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With the engagement party coming up, I had a lot to plan for. I was extremely excited to pick out a white dress and have my mom there along with my best friends. There weren’t many places in town available on such short notice, and they were quick to tell me alterations at this point would be impossible, so whatever I bought was going to have to fit just good enough.

Along with my mother, I’d invited Miranda (of course), Angelina, Shawan and Priya. It would be the first time my mom met his mom, and I hoped it went off without a hitch. With her fake-blonde pixie cut, often overdone makeup, and visible tattoos, my mom was pretty much the opposite of Dev’s demure, proper mother. I hoped mine would keep it to one or two drinks at lunch and not complain about anything. Was that too much to ask?

I arrived early at the dress shop and waited for everyone else, steeling myself with a glass of champagne (which I hoped was included). They arrived a moment later, all smiles and energetic chatter— except for Dev’s mother. She stood next to my mom and nodded politely as mine prattled on and on about something I couldn’t quite hear. Priya was in there like a dirty shirt, immediately engaging in conversation with Angelina, who was conveniently about her age.

Miranda stood next to me. “Geez, girl. You have to get some more friends. My sister as a bridesmaid? Seriously?”

“I work in a male-dominated industry, Miranda. Who else am I going to invite? My yoga instructor?”

She sipped her sparkling apple juice. “Anyone but my sister. At least she has Dev’s sister to hang out with. Maybe she will get into less trouble.”

“Don’t be jealous that your little sister is cooler than you.” I smirked and then was led away by our sales lady, all elegance and hairspray, to find my first dress.

I don’t know why I thought trying on wedding dresses would be fun. I hate shopping in general, hence my attire from Winners that’s all at least a year old. Shopping for wedding dresses was pure torture. You’re practically naked in front of a stranger as she pulls on an extremely expensive dress that fits weird and wasn’t designed for comfort, then you parade in front of your posse and watch their faces respond with either smiles or frowns. And, of course, no one can agree on anything.

Four dresses in,and I was done.

“Are you sure you’ve tried on enough?” my mother asked, already on her third glass of champagne.

“Yeah, I’ll just pick one of those,” I said, hurrying all of us out the door and down the street to a pub. I was in desperate need of something a little stronger than the watered-down champagne they handed out.

At the pub, I ordered a pitcher of margaritas to be shared amongst me, my mother, and Angelina, while Miranda had a virgin Caesar while pouting. Priya, still only eighteen, was not legally allowed to drink until the following year. Even still, I doubt her mother would have encouraged such behaviour, seeing as she’d ordered hot water with lemon. I’d almost reneged on my order once the server had gone around the table, ending with Shawan and her simple, free beverage.

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