Page 143 of Marks of Rebellion
"Move," he screams in my face, and spit flies in my eyes.
I have a full-out panic attack.
"I'm done with this. I'll meet you in the car, Arja." He angrily stomps out of the room.
"Clean your face up," Arja repeats and slams the door.
For six hours, I think I'm having a heart attack. I stay outside on the balcony, wailing at times but mostly gasping for air.
Carlos never comes back to the bedroom, and the sun eventually rises.
Slowly, the red hibiscuses come into focus. An infinity symbol laced through a heart is in the middle of the lawn.
Never ending, limitless love.
When the seamstresses arrive for the final wedding gown fitting, I'm sobbing uncontrollably on the balcony.
"Aww. What a wonderful man you have. I didn't realize Carlos was so romantic," one of them gushes.
It only makes me cry harder.
When one of them asks me what happened to my face, I lie without even thinking about it. "I ran into the door."
I'm a mess the entire fitting. The wedding is in two days, and I don't know how to get through the rehearsal tomorrow night. I'm required to say our vows. Any slip of imperfection and Carlos is going to be unforgiving.
Since Carlos has been working so many hours, he's not tried to have sex with me. I've been asleep anytime he's come in. Well, I faked sleeping.
A few times, he tried to wake me up, but when I didn't respond, he backed off. But it's coming. Once we're married, I'll have no way out. And I already know I won't survive the month-long trip he's booked for our honeymoon.
If I don't die outside the church, it will happen on the honeymoon. I can feel it.
"Well, aren't you stunning."
I snap out of my thoughts. "I'm sorry, what?"
The seamstress spins me in the full-length mirror. For the first time, I see myself in the white wedding dress.
It's a dress that every girl would dream of. Handmade lace, rhinestones, and satin hug my body in all the right places.
What a waste.
Tears fall again.
"Oh. Here. You don't want to get your dress wet." The older seamstress holds the box of tissues out.
I pull one out and blow my nose, and blood spurts out.
"Oh, no. Honey, lean forward, quick!"
I lean, but it's not in time. A drop gets on the dress and more fear courses through me.
Carlos is going to be so angry.
"Oh God," I cry out.
The seamstress rubs my back and holds more tissues to my nose.
"I ruined the dress!"
