Page 53 of Doctor I Do

Tahlia

I look down at my hand and twirl the ring, admiring the way the light catches it. It really is something else. But I’m pulled quickly from my runaway thoughts by my mom’s voice.

“I’d like you all to meet Yolanda. She’s a wedding planner, and I asked her here today to run through a couple of things. Because we’re having coffee, how great would it be to do the cake testing?”

I’m surprised she isn’t clapping with the way she is grinning excitedly at us all. I’m speechless at her audacity. No discussion. No warning. Just here, we’re doing cake today.

I know she’s excited, but this adds to my ever-growing guilt. Maybe I should confess? That this isn’t real. It’s all a setup and I’m doing this for my part of the business. Admit to her that Alex and I don’t actually love each other.

I suddenly need wine. I get up, grab a bottle of champagne from their wine fridge, and then some glasses for everyone, and return to the table.

I open it and pour everyone a glass. Mom beams back, and I know it’s because she thinks by me grabbing champagne, I’m loving the fact she’s organized this. However, my stomach is hard from the number of knots inside it. This is serious. I was hoping not to do any actual wedding planning before my birthday.

Today is the start. Meeting the wedding planner and cake tasting. Soon she’ll be asking to take me venue and dress shopping.

There’s a piece of cake pushed in front of me, and I wish it had the answers. I didn’t think this fake husband thing through. Stabbing a big piece of the white chocolate and raspberry cake, I welcome the sweet taste when it hits my tongue. It’s delicious, but it can’t replace the mess I’m currently in. However, at least, I can eat my bodyweight in cake. I’m excited to leave here with a full belly and go home to lie on the sofa, watching my shows with Alex.

My brows pinch when the doorbell rings.

“I have a little surprise for you both,” Mom says, and a wave of worry hits me.

What has she organized now?

She doesn’t stop to explain, instead she takes off to the door, and I turn to my dad for an explanation.

He’s already shaking his head. “Don’t ask me. You know your mother.”

That’s exactly the problem.

Next up, I’m saying hello to the celebrant.

I arrive back to Alex’s house and make a beeline for his cream plush sofa. I need to sit in this food coma a little longer.

The sofa feels divine as I sink deeply and turn on a home renovation show and snuggle up.

“You don’t happen to have a blanket?” I ask as Alex fusses in the kitchen, doing God knows what.

“Yes. In the drawer under the TV.”

I grab a cozy fluffy cream blanket and amble back to the sofa. Tucking my legs under me, I cover myself in the warm blanket and get comfortable.

“Did you want a cup of tea?” he asks.

“Mmm. Yes, please.”

My mind is a little lost in what he’s doing right now. Surely, this little play will end soon.

“Herbal?” he asks.

“Peppermint, if you have any,” I call back.

“Sure.”

“Tea bag left, please,” I call out.

“Demanding, aren’t you, honey?” he teases quietly.

I chuckle softly to myself.

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