Page 37 of A Temporary Forever

The beauty of the dress almost wanes with the pang of disappointment. He didn’t even sign the card. But he efficiently organized a dress for me. Just tomove onwith it, I guess. It’s thoughtful, with a dash of insult.

I’ve half a mind to wrap the dress up and return it. I have nice clothes to wear for my fake wedding pictures.

I clutch the fabric to my cheek, savoring the smoothness. The girl in me who wants to hop into the dress grapples with the responsible woman who doesn’t want to accept the gift. And there is no way I can pay him back for this couture.

Sometimes I hate my pride. I place the dress on my bed and put the kettle on. A woman I used to dance with years ago traveled to the Sahara desert, and she taught me that the Bedouins drink tea when faced with a tough decision. Their tea ceremony lasts hours, so by the end, they sort out their thinking.

I make my tea and, leaning against the counter, admire the dress. I take a sip. While it’s been onlyminutes, not hours, I’m leaning toward wearing it. Keeping it.

Does it make him win?

But what’s the competition?

My phone pings, saving me from the circle of useless opinions in my head.

Saar

Did Cal get you a dress?

Me

How do you know?

Saar

He asked for your size, I hope you don’t mind that I gave it to him.

Me

I’m sure he knows by now I’m not size 2 (laugh emoji)

Saar

Silly. How is the dress?

I snap a picture and send it to her.

Saar

OMG, Celeste, that dress is you!!! (dancing emojis)

And therein lies my apprehension. A man who doesn’t even like me, who is sacrificing himselfto appease his sister and take revenge on his father, has noticed me enough to know my style.

As I put on my wedding dress, a constantwhyswirls in my head.

“Look at each other, lovebirds.” The photographer, a woman in her fifties with short silver hair, beckons us together with her arm. “Groom, look your bride in the eyes and tell her how much you love her with your gaze.”

The ceremony was uneventful, witnessed by Dominic Cressard, and truly more of a formality. Somehow Caleb’s lawyer with his easygoing personality made the whole thing bearable.

I think I even managed to function properly, like a reasonable human being, despite my hammering heart, sweaty hands, and shallow breathing.

The entrance to the courthouse already put me on the verge of a panic attack, but luckily, the impersonal routine of exchanging vows happened so quickly that I was able to rush outside and breathe fresh air within ten minutes.

Dominic even got the marriage license expedited. That was great news, except it meant he left us to go file the green card and work permit application.

Caleb hasn’t said a word to me, other than the scripted part in front of the city clerk.

“What’s going on?” The photographer sighs. “The two of you look like you’re coming from a funeral, not your nuptials. Do you need to take a break?”

---