“You are fucking impossible!!!” Leila yells at me across the table and I yell straight back in complete
unveiled rage.
“I’m not wearing a fucking purple wedding dress; the dress is not down to you to pick. What the hell
were you thinking?” I throw her booklet at her and it bounces off the coffee table and lands on the floor
dramatically.
“Hey, hey, come on.” Arrick tries to intervene, sitting me back down on the couch and I glare at her
hatefully. Fury fueling me, even as he kneels down in front of me and tries to calm that wild inner beast,
she has erupting all over.
Leila flew in two days ago to rush through the prep for this wedding and in Arrick’s absence as he has
been seeing his dad and getting his shit back to Carrero Corp, I have been stuck with my controlling
sister planning my life in the worst kind of way.
Yeah, I am back in full diva mode for sure, only this time she knows her place is not to stand against
Arrick. Doesn’t mean I can’t throw her at obnoxious sisters who are driving me to the brink of insanity.
“Tell her she can’t choose my dress! I’m a fucking designer! I’ll be making my own.” I spit at her over his
shoulder as he takes both my hands. He has only been home ten seconds and walked into world war
three after a day of nonstop bickering. I am up to my limit with my bossy sister and her stupid box of
wedding plans, she’s been accumulating. My blood pressure is through the roof and pretty sure he
saved us from extreme violence aimed both ways.
“It’s an alexander McQueen design, that he is offering you for free, Sophie. This wedding is circulating
around the social grapevine. This is huge.” She throws back at me, but my eyes widen in rage.
“And that’s another fucking thing!” I erupt as I jump to my feet almost knocking him on his ass. Fury
unleashed and that little fiery me who has been absent of late is in full throttle. “Which part of quiet and
non-flashy did you not understand, Leila? There was to be no media, no god damn celebrity show ups.
Family, friends… Small!” I throw her samples at her, for the linens and Arry is back in front of me trying
to cage my lash out expertly. He knows I am about an inch away from an all-out blow out at her. He
takes my hands and pulls me against him, circling an arm around my waist and cups my face while
entangling his fingers in my hair, pulling me to look at him so he can diffuse my temper.
“Look calm down, this is all fixable. We still have eleven days, baby.” Arrick turns and makes a face at
Leila as she paces angrily, catching her with a long slow frown that translates a lot to her so effortlessly.
She rolls her eyes at him epically and throws her hands in the air.
“Oh, my fucking god! OKAY! Stop giving me that look. I will cancel the dress and tone it down a little. I
just thought it was nerves and shyness on Sophs part. Jeeze.” Leila slumps into the armchair and
throws her binder on the table haughtily. Arrick is one of the few people she gives in to from time to
time, he has a knack for controlling hell fire it seems.
“You can’t make a dress in eleven days, just saying.” She throws at me in after thought and I stick my
tongue out in response. Getting myself free of his hold to glare at her.
“Who can’t? Watch me.” I throw my hand on my hip and catch Arrick smiling at me. That hint of his
weirdness peeking out whenever I go full on warrior mode. He has this strange pride thing about me
standing up to, well anyone, and he’s probably admiring it right now.
Still a very strange boy.
“Good luck. I will have some on back up, just in case. Venues are not a problem as we are converting
the Carrero house and gardens and have the food and evening entertainment sorted out already. I
need all your decisions on every single sample I have left. I’m going home tonight as I have a meeting
with the local church tomorrow, so I need the reply as soon as possible, Arry. Talk sense into my sister,
she’s impossible sometimes.” Leila gets up and grabs her bag among the mess we have scattered over
the floor and glares at me.
Takes one to know one!
“I’ll email you with it all.” Arrick lets me loose and goes to give my sister a hug and kiss on the cheek.
They are like siblings in so many ways. Leila throws me another look and sighs heavily before flexing
her arms at me to gesture I should get a hug even if I am a brat. She walks to me when I refuse to
budge and throws me an awkward grudged cuddle before heading for the elevator.
“Goodbye, don’t hurry back.” I yell after her and get a bird extended backwards at me.
“Arrick, love. I would rethink tying yourself to this one for life.” She sticks her tongue out at me when
she turns in the opening doors of the elevator and I gesture her with a middle finger. He waves her out
of sight and then turns to me with a weird look. Pushing down my hand with a shake of his head and a
sigh.
“Everyone thinks we pushed the wedding forward because your knocked up.” He looks odd for a
moment and the lump that catches inside of me sobers the bad mood Leila created in me and I walk
forward into his arms for a hug. Leaning my head against his chest as he holds me tight and neither of
us say anything.
Somehow the last couple days I have found that this seems to work for us, when one of us have a
wobble. A hug can cure so much. This being there for him is not as hard as I thought it would be. He
doesn’t require much really. A cuddle, a kiss, a loving caress and then he pulls himself back together
and doesn’t really say much. If I knew it was that easy, then I wouldn’t have hesitated.
We haven’t talked a whole lot about any of it, but it feels okay. We both know what we’re thinking in
moments like this and it’s enough to hold onto one another for a while until the worst passes.
Sometimes not talking about it is okay.
Giovanni is going home tomorrow; he has medication and is recovering fast. He will be at our wedding
and is under orders to take it easy, by everyone. I feel like all the weeks have fallen away and all I am
focused on is this one thing, to walk down the aisle with Arrick before I look beyond into the future. It’s
helping me deal with my pain and my messy brain. A focus and a positive all rolled into one. Like taking
a break from the hard and having a little happier time out in a way.
No one questioned the sudden need for us to push a wedding forward, or so I thought, and I guess no
one wants to really know what went on between us. Arrick talked to his mom after I told him she knew,
and I think in a way it helped him too. Having her to open up to, seeing as she has lost her own
children before she finally had Arrick.
I’m doing better. Mentally keep telling myself I need to go see a doctor about birth control and a check-
up but it’s not important right now. Arrick and I aren’t having sex while my body recovers, and he sort of
mentioned we shouldn’t until our wedding night to make it mean something more after being celibate as
long as we’ve been. It’s been weeks. I have no desire for sex right now and I hope by then I will want to
rip his clothes off. I guess this is all part of my hormones recovering still.
I’m not sure I even want to use birth control on our wedding night anymore. I haven’t talked to him but
there’s a part of me who has been rethinking everything. Maybe letting nature take its course and see
what happens. The void left in me from losing that life is not going anywhere and a part of me wants to
fill it. I never wanted children before this and now it’s been on my mind constantly.
New York can wait, my skills are my own and it wouldn’t be the worst thing if I had to defer a year for a
baby, maybe even two. Sylvana was right, my future is whatever I want it to be and Arry would move
mountains to help me realize my dream. Even with a baby in tow. I mean, I waited how many years
before setting on this path, what’s another one or two.
I haven’t told Arrick this is how I’ve been feeling, I think he would feel like I was trying to replace the
one we are still grieving. I know he wants kids, I’m not sure he will be happy about trying to let it
happen on our wedding night though. I will tell him, just maybe not right now.
He did question me getting checked over and I told him a little white lie in that a doctor checked me out.
It was true in that In Paris a doctor did, it’s just not been done since I got home and apart from the
nausea all the time, I’m okay. The bleeding is so faint I can pretty much say it’s stopped and google told
me every woman is different and it can vary. I feel normal I guess, for everything that has happened
and I’m sure if I eat better and stop stressing out, then the nausea will subside too. It’s probably
anxiety.
I have a dress to make in eleven days and no time for anything else. My whole focus is this wedding
and I need it. To take a break from all that’s happened and stressing over my future. I want to get lost in
designing a dress and see where this takes us.
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