Déja Vú

Introductions and Illusions.

Leora.

I put the finishing touches to my hair and makeup as I headed downstairs, telling myself to breathe, to act normal, to not look like someone whose entire life had quietly spun off its axis.

If I said I wasn't nervous, I would have been the biggest liar on the planet.

How exactly was I supposed to tell my parents—who were very aware that I had been as single as a toothbrush before my trip to Rome—that I was suddenly getting married? And the bigger question wasn't even how I'd say it. It was whether they'd believe me at all.

Londyn had spent a major part of the night reprimanding me for not telling them the truth yesterday, then proceeded to threaten that if I didn't do it today, she would. Not that I really had a choice anymore. Ashton was coming over. It was either now or never.

I slipped on my silver studs and matching watch, grabbed my bag and shoes, and headed downstairs.

We were leaving for Paris today, so I'd dressed with that in mind. After the whole meeting-with-my-parents situation, Londyn and I were flying out first for the wedding rehearsal, while my parents planned to arrive later for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding the next day. They'd decided to use the train instead of my jet, despite my protests. At first I didn't understand it, but somewhere along the line, I'd started to see the sense in it. Simpler. Quieter. Less attention.

I was wearing a white one-shoulder top with teal green shorts, a matching bag, and my hair was styled into two neat braids. I dropped my white stilettos on the shoe rack by the door, inhaled deeply, and shouted at the top of my lungs.

"Family meeting!"

My mum appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel, while my dad came in from the garden, looking thoroughly confused. Londyn emerged from our room upstairs with the most ridiculous smirk I had ever seen, clearly enjoying my discomfort far too much.

She was dressed in a blue turtleneck top and a brown mini skirt, cinched with a blue belt. In her hands were blue stilettos, a matching bag, and a blue beret. Of course she dropped her shoes on the rack, then casually settled onto the couch like this was her front-row seat to my downfall.

"First of all," my dad said, smiling as he dried his hands with the towel my mum handed him, "you girls look beautiful."

"But don't you think they're a bit short?" my mum added, gesturing pointedly at Londyn's skirt and my shorts.

We both gave her the look. The one that said please don't start this today.

She sighed. "Anyway. Leora, what is this about?"

"Yeah, Leora, what's up?" Londyn mocked, the smirk still firmly in place. In that moment, I really considered knocking it right off her face.

"Well... Ma. Father." I took a seat beside Londyn, my heart pounding. "You know I've always loved you, and I'll forever be grateful for taking me in when I had nowhere to go after my accident. I really just want to appreciate you, and—"

"She's getting married!"

The words exploded out of Londyn's mouth, excited and unapologetic. I turned to her with a are you actually serious right now look, but she only shrugged.

"You were stalling. I couldn't wait another second."

I looked back at my parents. Both of them were staring at me wide-eyed.

"When?"
"How?"

They asked in unison, their expressions demanding answers.

"Well," I started, swallowing hard, "it happened in Rome."