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“That’s the problem,” he said. “Our wedding can be nothing like the one she was planning with that asshole. But yet she wants all those elements because that’s what she likes, but she can’t have them because they were supposed to be in the first.”
I laughed. “And you’re walking on eggshells. If you tell her to just do what she wants, you’re wrong because that’s too much like the other wedding that never actually happened.”
He nodded. “Yep. There’s just so much to do. I want her to have the perfect wedding. She deserves her dream wedding. She was planning that with him. I told her she never actually got that wedding, so it wasn’t tainted. She thinks it is.”
“Have you thought about hiring a wedding planner?” I asked.
“She wants to do it herself,” he said. “She says someone else will screw it up.”
I laughed again. “I do get the impression it’s better for Caroline to be in control.”
“Exactly.” He chuckled. “I’m just not sure what I should or shouldn’t say. I don’t want to piss her off. Although, pissing her off is kind of fun. It usually ends very well for me.”
“Tell her to go with what she likes,” I suggested. “If she picks stuff just to do the opposite of what she initially liked, she’s going to be disappointed.”
“I know.” He groaned. “I feel like I’m drowning in a sea of wedding details.”
I smiled sympathetically. “It’s a lot to handle, but just remember that it’s all worth it in the end. You’re marrying the love of your life, and that’s what really matters. Tell her that. It doesn’t matter what the flowers are or anything else. Just get down the damn aisle and spit out some vows. Kiss her and seal the deal.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure that will go over like a lead balloon. Have you met Caroline? It’s hard to see the forest for the trees sometimes. I try and stay out of it, and she wants to kick my ass. I’m in a dangerous limbo.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” I said. “Like you told me, no matter if you fuck up the wedding, you still have your relationship.”
“I don’t think it’s quite the same,” he said. “If I fuck up the wedding, I don’t have a relationship.”
“She’s not going to walk away if the roses are orchids or whatever,” I said. “She stuck by you when you were at death’s door. Let me tell you, you were not pretty there for a couple of weeks. If she handled you at your lowest, a flower or tablecloth is not going to be the thing that ruins your relationship. If she’s stressing out, put your foot down and tell her to stop it.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “You’re so fucking stupid.”
“What?” I shrugged. “You have never had a problem telling anyone what to do or calling them out on their bullshit. Why should she be any different?”
“I wonder why you’re single,” he muttered.
“Again, you two hated each other and still managed to get together,” I said. “I don’t see what the problem is. Just tell her she’s driving you crazy.”
“I live with the woman,” he said. “She sleeps in my bed. I sleep in my bed. Caroline isn’t the kind of woman who takes shit from anyone. I do not dare tell her she’s being ridiculous and then go to sleep beside her. No way. That’s dumb. I need to be tactful and gentle. I can handle her driving me a little crazy.”
“You look like shit,” I pointed out. “I think that means she’s driving you a lot crazy. How are you going to get through the wedding? You’re going to have gray hair and wrinkles before you get to that point with the way you’re going.”
“I’ll casually mention I think her flower choices are good,” I said. “But I’m not about to tell her she’s being ridiculous. I’ll suck it up.”
“Suit yourself.” I shrugged. “I’m outta here.”
“Good luck,” he said.
“Thanks,” I replied.
I left his office and went to my own to grab my wallet and phone. I knew that no matter what happened, Emmy and I would always be best friends. But I couldn’t help but hope that our friendship would turn into something more. I wanted more. I hoped she felt the same way. I wasn’t going to jump until I knew for certain. Maybe I was a little bit of a coward. I was worried about rejection. It wouldn’t feel good. It would be worse when she started dating someone else. I was going to be the jackass who wasn’t good enough for her.
I sat down in our usual booth and nervously looked around. The wood-paneled walls were crowded with picture frames, each with a different picture of our neighborhood over the decades. The sign above the register was crooked. A mirror hung behind the counter displaying the kitchen and pizza oven. The mirror was no longer as shiny as it once was after years of heat and grease.
The pizza parlor was a small place. The only style of décor was wood. From the booths to the tables and chairs, the bar, even the walls and ceilings. The wood was aged and worn, but it was a place that had character. It was the same place we’d met up at least a hundred times before. It was the only place I could afford when we were young. But today was different. Today I was going to broach the idea of taking our friendship into a relationship. I didn’t quite know how else to say it other than to just say it. But it was weird. It wasn’t a conversation that was just going to happen easily.
I sipped my Coke and checked the time. She was late. That wasn’t completely out of the ordinary for her. I didn’t understand the uptick in my heartbeat when Emmy walked into the pizza place. As she walked in, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she looked in her black leggings, boots, and a pretty blue sweater. Her dark hair was styled in a messy bun and her sunglasses were tucked up on her head. The way the leggings clung to her curves was hard not to stare at. I tried to compose myself as she made her way over to the booth where I waited. Her smile was infectious, and I couldn’t help but return it.
“Hey, sorry I’m late,” she said with a smile.
“No worries, I just got here,” I lied, trying to keep my voice steady.
