Page 14 of Prideful Union
“I’d love a dark red,” I told him when he came to my house.
“No. We’re going with white and a light blue color scheme.”
I deflated. “Why?”
“Because red is gaudy. A wedding should be light. Respectable. Elegant. Remember that, Lucia.”
“So, you’re saying I’m gaudy?”
“You said it. Not me.”
“Why are you even marrying me if we can’t agree on anything?”
“Because I like a challenge,” he said as if I was supposed to understand whatthatmeant.
In the end, Santino got what he wanted—a white and blue wedding.
And lastly, the venue.
I wanted an outdoor wedding. I love nature and thought it would make for a beautiful backdrop, but Santino just had to disagree.
I didn’t even get the chance to look at outdoor venues before he decided on a church.
Yes, a church.
Many of my sisters were married in churches. I come from a Catholic family after all. But I wanted to do something different. Break up the routine.
But nope.
A church it is.
Because Santino refuses to change his damn mind.
At least I got to choose my own wedding dress.
And speaking of that, I have a dress fitting for it today.
I return to the bridal shop, sans Santino. He doesn’t get to bother me with everything when it comes to this wedding.
The shop assistant, Sabrina, who picked out the dress for me, greets me as I enter. “I’m so glad you like your dress, Miss Moretti.”
“It was a beautiful choice. Thank you for picking it for me.”
Sabrina frowns. “Oh, I didn’t pick it out. Your husband did.”
Everything screeches to a halt. “What?”
“You didn’t know? He told me to lay it out for you.”
“But you said you picked it?”
“Not quite,” she says. “I didn’t correct you. I do as a client says.”
“So, why are you telling me now?”
“Because your husband isn’t here. I thought you’d want to know. I didn’t think it would be a problem.”
I almost choke on the sound that escapes me—a combination of laughter and crying. “Not a problem? You’re telling me the dress I like, the dress I chose, is the one Santino actually picked for me?”
