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Prologue
"You look amazing." Niyomi complimented, gushing at the sight of me trying on my dress before the big day.
"We've only told you that a million times already," My other best friend, Denim, added, returning to my bedroom with a glass of wine.
"I'll make it a million and one if you keep it up," I sassed, turning around so Niyomi could unzip me.
"She has a point, Lo. Why are you so nervous?" Niyomi inquired, but I needed clarification. I couldn't pinpoint why but my insides were currently at a disco party that I wanted to leave but couldn't.
I’m getting married this weekend. That’s reason enough to be nervous. I thought when my head whipped at the sound of the door. I wondered if my mind was playing tricks on me or if they heard the same noise.
Denim darted out of the room, and I panicked at the sound of my fiancé's voice. Niyomi and I began frantically trying to get my wedding dress back in the bag but failed miserably when I went into the hallway to stop his tracks.
"You know you're not supposed to be here!" I fussed.
"Relax, Lo. I left something and just came to grab it. I'll be gone in a minute," Marcel dipped to peck my lips. "I thought y’all would be at the hotel by now."
"We're packing up now."
"Good, try to relax."
"It's hard to do with so much going on. Not to mention you haven't been around much."
"Come on, Lo. I've been working. You know that. How else can I give you your dream wedding if I don't?"
Marcel had a point, but honestly, I was ready for this part of his life to be over. "You'll have me all to yourself in a few more days."
"I better."
"Why do you think I'm working so hard? I got shit to tie up before I'm off the grid putting a baby in you for five days in Costa Rica."
"Don't sweet talk me, Cel. You know what you have to do before we have a baby."
"I'm working on it, but I gotta handle some shit with Brandon. I'll call you later," he insisted, referring to his right-hand man.
Cel might've had to go, but that was also his way of avoiding the impending conversation. I compromised a lot in our relationship, but that was non-negotiable. Partially because my parents' relationship was so fucked up, it impacted my childhood. I refused to bring a child into the same dysfunction.
"Please be on time tomorrow. It's not a good look if the groom is late."
"I'll be there. Get a massage or something at the hotel to help you relax," Marcel assured me.
"I couldn't agree more. We'll be charging it to your account," Niyomi joined us in the hallway carrying my bag and hers.
"You earned it if this is what you’ve been dealing with," he joked while I flipped the bird.
"Love you too, Lo," Marcel added before walking back out the door.
"We've got everything. Now off to the hotel for a massage because that nigga is going to be late tomorrow," Denim strutted past us, and I shook my head, realizing she was likely right. Marcel would be late for his funeral. Grabbing my purse, I did a once-over of our home before following the girls out of the door.
We were all crazy, but I wouldn't trade them for anything. Being an only child, I was comfortable being alone. Then I went to college and found lifelong sisters in my suitemates. Now I couldn’t live without them. It was nobody else that I’d rather be with me today as I prepared for my wedding.
Thankfully the spa was able to squeeze us in for the evening. My massage therapist Tony relieved all my stress and allowed me to spend the night reminiscing with my girls about the good old days and boyfriends we thought we would spend forever with. Denim had even looked my college boyfriend up on social media, and I had never been more thankful for heartbreak in my life. He hadn't aged well at all, and Denim wasted no time reminding me how funny looking our children would have looked if we had stayed together.
Morning came a lot sooner than I wanted. I would've loved to stay in the plush luxury hotel bed, but the girls and I had a nail salon appointment that I couldn't miss before rehearsal. Hitting the alarm clock on my nightstand, Niyomi and I got up, but Denim covered her head with the comforter dreading it. We jumped on her bed until she got tired of dealing with us and got up.
Thankfully we didn't bet because Marcel was actually on time for once. I was shocked, but it calmed my nerves that my fiancé was taking this moment seriously, mainly so he could deal with his demanding mother.
Marcel winked at me while disregarding everything the wedding coordinator went over. I couldn't blame him because I wasn't exactly paying attention myself. I was mentally going over a list of last-minute tasks before Saturday.
