Makes Me Wonder What You Would Like as a Bride

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In which Jack asks you a very important, life-altering question. Problem is: he chooses to do it during your sister's wedding reception!


"As a groomsman, I would usually be attracted to one of the bridesmaids, but at this wedding, I must admit, I'm particularly feeling something for the maid of honor."

"Jack" you blush and nervously smile before putting your head on his shoulder, while the two of you slowly move side to side to Ed Sheeran's "Thinking Out Loud," the debut of the slow dancing part of your sister's wedding reception.

"Seriously," he states when you entangle your arms around his neck—to match his around your waist—the dark brown eyes reflecting into yours a testament of both the seriousness and admiration in his words, "You look absolutely stunning in that dress. And don't even get me started on your hair, the way it's put up so elegantly with the glittering hair pieces, or your natural makeup, how it brings out all your best facial feature—"

"Jack" you cut him off in a giggle, too shy to accept his compliments and to mention his involvement, 'you helped pick it out!"

"I know" he smirks obnoxiously, though it's part of his demeanor, something you oddly love about him, then boasts, "and I couldn't have been prouder of my choice!"

By "it" you were referring to the floor-length princess royal blue dress that had been ordered online and tailor-made; complete with interconnecting floral and vine pattern appliqués on the bodice and meshwork. This color was part of the wedding color palette: maid of honor in navy blue, best men in gray, bridesmaids in blush and groomsmen (which Jack and your older brother were) in navy blue suits, finished off with a blush pocket square. Definitely the one to make a statement especially on the occasion of wedding pictures, Jack, while matching most bridal party men with his beard, was the only one sporting dyed platinum blonde hair. Though you had to admit it, it suited him well.

"And," he recalls the attention back to himself again, signaling in an amazed and proud tone that he hadn't quite finished his earlier point "The speech you delivered? It was everything a wedding speech should be: hilarious, heartfelt and to the point." As if to emphasize, he cites said speech in a voice imitating yours "If you don't treat my sister like the queen she is, my father will not be afraid to hunt you down or to use backup" he pauses much like you did when you delivered it, "aka my mom." Sighing in pride, he says in wonder, "I don't think I've ever seen you not so shy and also so proud your sister—it's refreshing."

As you recall the events of the last few months, that is, preparing the bridal shower (fittingly themed "love at first flight," a homage to her, a flight attendant, meeting her future husband on a plane), attending her gown fitting and assisting with the wedding preparations any way you could, you sigh both in relief and satisfaction, realizing that had it not been for the former, not only would you have not gotten closer to her, but would have never developed the newfound (and much needed) confidence that had been present during your speech.

"I feel great," you confirm, as you stare at the newlyweds wrapped up in each other's arms, moving slowly from side to side, too lost in their marital bliss to care about the outside world. "My dress makes me feel really pretty but I think what really took the cake was the response to the speech." Gratefully, you add, "I mean, I had an idea that people would laugh, just not that much." Then overwhelmed with the couple's happiness, you manage to deliver through threatening tears, "It's just—just knowing that she's looking so pretty, that she's finally found her prince charming and that, that, she's more than ready for this new experience, it, it makes me so, so happy. There's nothing more that I would want for her."

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