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“Of course!”
“Auntie Jasmine will bring them popsicles and introduce them to the wonders of daytime television. Oh, I can’t believe I get to be an aunt! This is so exciting! I have to get back to work, but congratulations to both of you! Also, Jazz and Minn are excellent names. I’m just saying,” Jasmine hung up as Sebastian and I erupted in laughter.
“She’s about to pull double duty planning my bachelorette party and my baby shower,” I said.
“She’s a good friend,” Sebastian said.
“The best.”
Friday morning, I woke up with an oceanic pit of dread bubbling in my stomach. Jasmine had promised to play referee between myself and my mother, but I was still terrified. My mother had always been hypercritical of my body; surely, she would notice that I put on weight and the growing bulge that refused to go away no matter how hard I sucked in.
I dressed quickly, changing into a pair of leggings and a T-shirt. I turned to the side and examined myself in the mirror; even with my baggiest T-shirt, the bulge was noticeable and rounder than usual weight gain, more pronounced.
Sebastian snuck up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing a kiss onto my neck.
“It’ll be okay,” he murmured, his voice was low and sweet.
My brow crumpled despite his reassurance.
“You don’t know her like I do. She’ll kill me,” I whimpered. I knew it sounded dramatic, but this dress only amplified my mother’s vitriol. The first tailor quit because she berated him for two hours when he got freshwater pearls instead of Japanese pearls for the buttons. The dressmaker the bridal shop hired to reconstruct the corset quit after one day. Now, Jasmine was putting her fashion degree to good use, reworking it for her. Jasmine was the only person on the dressmaking team who hadn’t been openly ridiculed or forced to quit by my mother. But she had an advantage, having known my parents for over four years.
Sebastian sighed. “That’s true, but I’ve dealt with my fair share of rich assholes over the years. I’ll give her a run for her money,” he said.
When my parents first introduced the idea of what was, for all intents and purposes, an arranged marriage, I figured Sebastian would be another adversary. I thought his greed would make him docile and pliable, that he would do anything to make my parents happy to gain more connections. Instead, Sebastian quickly became my greatest ally when I was stuck combatting their unhinged antics. I’d never felt like someone was so clearly on my side. It was refreshing.
Sebastian held me for a few minutes, his hands instinctually drifting toward my belly. I let him cradle me. Gradually, I relaxed.
“Come on, you should eat something before you go,” Sebastian insisted.
I made a face.
“But the dress,” I started.
“Screw the dress. The three of you need your nutrients! I’ll make your avocado toast with coarse-ground sea salt and micro greens,” Sebastian bribed; it had been my latest craving.
My stomach growled at the mention, and Sebastian grinned.
“You know you want it.”
“Ugh! Fine! Can you make me some decaf, too?” I asked.
“Yes, and yes. Hey, before I start, do you want to try something kind of silly?”
“What?” I asked.
Sebastian blushed. “Okay, sometimes, before I have a really big meeting, I’ll tell myself affirmations in the mirror to hype myself up. I know it sounds woo-woo, but I swear it works.”
“What kind of affirmations?” I asked. Sebastian was the least woo-woo person I knew. He only started drinking green juice a couple of weeks ago because I reassured him of the antioxidants which would help his workouts, even with the hippie association.
“So, it varies by situation. But in this case, you can say, ‘This is my wedding.’”
“This is my wedding,” I tried.
“My mom is not the boss of me because I am a grown woman, and I can make my own decisions.”
“My mom is not the boss of me because I am a grown woman, and I can make my own decisions.” I parroted. I was slowly starting to feel better.
“I’m better than Regina Cavanaugh.”
