Under The Bridge(Chresanto August)

3.3

Guess who got a job?

By the way, excuse the mistakes, I got my nails done and it's hard, and extremely frustrating, to type on a phone with fake nails.

--

"What do you want to talk about?" Chres asks, taking my hands in his after we sit on the bed.

I sit across from him, both of us sitting Indian style. "Just about getting married."

"What about it?"

"I'm a little nervous." I admit. "My entire life, I've dreamed of this day. My father walking me down the isle while I'm wearing my mother's wedding gown, marrying the love of my life and vowing to never leave their side."

"And neither of my parents want anything to do with me." I look down.

He pulls me into a hug, "I'm sorry, baby girl. I didn't even think about it like that."

"Its fine. I get really excited when I think about us getting married, but that's what I think about afterwards, and I get sad."

"What can I do?" He asks.

"I just wanted to talk to you about it. I never want to frown while we're talking about the wedding, and you think it's because I don't want to marry you or something. I really want to marry you, and I'm really excited and happy that we get to get married. I just wish things were better with them."

He kisses my forehead, hugging me tightly. "We can invite them. If they come, they come. If they don't, at least you tried."

"I don't want to do that, what if they come and try and ruin things for us?" I wrap my arms around him.

"We can talk to them first, try and patch things up." He suggests.

"We already have. And they willingly signed over their rights." I sigh. "Let's talk about the happy part of the wedding."

"Are you sure? I don't want this to blow over when it's upsetting you so much." He rubs my back.

I nod, "I'd rather we focus on the positive. Like the fact that we're getting married."

I look up, kissing his cheek.

He smiles, holding my hands again. "Want to go see if we can find you a pretty white dress to wear?"

"But white means purity. And I'm not." I frown.

"Have you cheated on me?" He asks.

"No." I answer.

"Then you're wearing a white dress, you deserve to wear the white dress, baby." He lifts my chin. "Stop putting yourself down."

"Sorry."

"It's okay, my love." He kisses me sweetly. "Now, do you want to go find your dress?"

"Yeah." I admit.

"Let's go then." He stands up, scooping me up in his arms.

I squeal, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Don't drop me!"
He just laughs, sliding on his shoes and grabbing my flip flops before putting his wallet and the keys to the car and hotel in his pocket.

--

"I like this one." I look at myself.

"I do too. It suits you." He smiles.

"This one is expensive though." I frown at the price. We didn't go to a wedding dress store, we were just in the small looking in all the stores for white dresses.

"I told you I didn't take you out to be cheap. Mama needs to find whatever she likes, and daddy will pay for it." He chuckles.

"Yes, you told me. But how does daddy suddenly have enough money to do all of this? A week ago we were struggling to pay bills." I remind him.