Pov Camila - Okay, Jon. Lauren sighed, and I wished I could see her real reaction at that moment. "Please tell my cousin my message: Ask her to forget that I exist ..." A couple approached me and I was frightened. I did not want anyone to see me there, behind a wall, listening to conversations with others. I ran to the other side, trying not to make a noise, and turned left, leaving them alone again. The sounds of the party hit me again. Everyone looked excited about the music they played, and the waiters kept running back and forth with drinks and food. But what I really heard was a huge, raw and unpleasant hum, covering and preventing all that joy from reaching me. I walked mechanically to the table and sat down. I grabbed the first glass of water I found on a tray and thanked the waiter just for politeness, drinking big sips at once. Fucking hell. Beatrice. That unhappy motherfucker had to come back and torment me. I had to ruin my happiness. He had to want Lauren back. She wanted Lauren back. I was officially going bad. - Hey, Mila! What's it? Oliver came and sat down beside me, really serious. - Anything. I said waving me a napkin. - Your mouth is completely colorless! What's it? - Anything! - Chris, get here! He shouted at his brother-in-law, who appeared magically on my other side. - What's wrong with you? He asked, taking from one of the waiters something that looked like a lot of penne to the four cheeses and offering me. "Please, stop it ..." I managed to speak, feeling my head boil and my hands sweating. "You're calling attention ..." "Okay, so eat that. Your pressure is not good. For the sole purpose of pushing them away, I grabbed my fork, trying not to shake, and shoved a penne cake into my mouth. It could be styrofoam, and I could not tell the difference. They leaned back in their chairs, feigning casualness but still looking discreetly at me.To my surprise, the malaise I felt was gradually improving, and maybe it was even a little salt that I needed. I took a few deep breaths, thinking of everything that might help calm me down. First, Lauren had told Beatrice to forget her. I had heard those words perfectly, even if I had to run after them. Second, a few minutes ago she was declaring herself to me and asking me to stay with her forever. Third, she would not let me have another: I carried her daughter, and as far as I could remember, she was completely in love with her. I calmed down gradually, until I could reduce my tremors considerably. I hid my hands under the table, closing my eyes and trying not to remember the dialogue I had just witnessed. Chris and Oliver were still on my side, now calmer as they realized that this had been "just" a drop in pressure. I thanked Taylor for not being there. The way she was, I would have been able to notice that there was something very wrong with me. I was sweating, although the weather was still quite cool. I looked around, wondering where Lauren was that had not yet come back. Maybe he'd spent more time talking to that man ... And maybe he'd changed his mind, or scheduled a meeting with Beatrice, even if it was to talk. I swallowed the cry that came in my throat and waited. I was taken by surprise when it suddenly came, causing Oliver to rise and sit anyhow where he was, by my side. She took the dose of Whiskey she had left on the table before going out to talk and took it in one gulp, already taking another dose of one of the waiters. I looked at her, wanting to question her, but she could not. - What did he want? I asked quietly, pretending to be natural, but my voice was ridiculously shaky. Luckily, Lauren was too drunk to notice that. - Fill my bag. She said, flipping her left arm behind my back again and patting my shoulder. - As well? I persisted trying to deal with the beating of my heart, so heavy it seemed like punches. "Nothing important, my love. She said, giving me a light kiss on the corner of her mouth. - Lauren ... Tell me, please. She stared at me and I smiled falsely, swallowing hard and fighting back tears. I unconsciously clutched the cloth of her dress, so hard that my fingers ached. - Are you alright? She asked, wiping the sweat from my neck with one hand. "I'm ... You're not going to tell me?" - Tell you later. All right? I stared at her for a while, wondering if she would really tell me everything that was said in that conversation. - Promise? - Promise. - Lo ... - Chris interrupted us, seriously - I'm not exaggerated like you, but Mila went a little wrong a few minutes ago ... Lauren stared at me like I was on fire. I wished Chris was not drunk enough to let go of that unnecessary information. - What's wrong with you? She asked desperately, dropping the Whiskey glass on the table and placing her hands on my belly. "My pressure has fallen, that's all." She put her hands to her head, her fingers tightening the strands of her hair. That was Lauren drunk and desperate, and I might even be amused if I was not still shaken by what had happened. "Come, my love ... Let's go home ..." She stood, staggering. "She's all right, Lauren!" Stop being an idiot! "Chris started, but Lauren answered in a voice so loud and so harsh that I was frightened. - Leave me the fucking worry! Stop fucking my ass, all of you! And turning to me, he softened his angry expression. "Come ... I'll help you." Chris made a statement, but I shut him up. - It's all right. I'd rather go. I said as I stood up. It was true: I did not feel like staying. No longer. She wanted to go home, even if it meant talking to Lauren and crying for the rest of the night.We went to Mike, who chatted excitedly with some friends, and said goodbye, implying that I was not doing very well. I apologized for not staying until the end and wished again congratulations to him. Taylor came up to us, noticing the state in which Lauren stood and offering Oliver to walk with us for two blocks. Lauren said she did not need to, since we'd get a cab. When we got to our garden, I wished she had not refused the brother-in-law's company. She was not using me as support, so I stumbled every three steps into something. The lights were off because we had forgotten to leave them on when we left, and walking around at that hour was really difficult even for a sober person. For a drunkard, it must have been impossible. "I'm going to turn on the lights ... Do not move ... Do not fall ..." She let go of my hand and disappeared into the darkness. I prayed that she would not get her teeth on any stone and end up having to stop at a hospital. Before everything else was silent again, I heard some profanity spoken. It was possible she had kicked a few stumps of wood or slipped. The lights came on and I found myself again in the middle of the enchanted garden. Lauren went back to the front of the house, leaning against the walls and, at the same time, trying to appear balanced. We walked into the house and I made to get up the stairs, but Lauren took my hand. "Can we talk for a minute in the living room?" My heart raced. My head caught fire again, and a sudden sickness seized me. But I did not let anything happen. I wanted to look strong, at least until she said something about Beatrice's story that would make me cry in despair. I did not answer, walking into the living room aware that this conversation would be unpleasant in some way. When we arrived, she made me sit on the oversized sofa, but stood up. - Are you alright? - She started. - I am. - I lied. I was not well, and every second Lauren postponed that conversation I felt more anxious and nauseous. "Your hands are cold. - Do not worry. "I wanted to get to the subject soon." She ignored me, letting go of my hands and leaving the room. I sat there for a while, waiting for her to come back and my anxiety. All I wanted was for her to tell me the truth. If Lauren lied about her affair with this Jonathan, I would have to confess what I heard and ask her for an explanation. And I wanted her to tell me what exactly she had answered after I left. And I wanted her to tell me that she was fucking little for anyone, and that she still loved me, and that nothing could shake her feelings for me. Not even the return of an old passion to her life. A loud noise brought me back, scaring me and getting me up immediately. Before I could run down the hall, I heard her scream from somewhere: "I'm fine!" Please, stay there! What the hell had happened? What the hell was she doing? "If you do not come back in thirty seconds, I'll pick you up!" I shouted, trying not to get even more nervous. Seconds later, she walked back into the room, still leaning against the door. He had a glass of juice in one hand, and in the other a paper napkin almost totally stained with red. I looked at his face and saw blood scattered. - What the fuck ... - Calm down! I just fell in the kitchen ... I hit her nose, but I'm fine ... - She started kneeling on the floor with the bag she had taken to the party in front of me and offering me the glass - I just wanted to get something to you drink, but that shit slips ... Suddenly, I started to cry. My nerves were at the edge of the skin at that moment, both from the anxiety of the subject that was to come and from the fear that Lauren had broken some bone of the body and not to have noticed for being so drunk. My pregnancy was in charge of putting everything together and making me burst into tears and sobs. - Excuse! Sorry to make you so nervous! She said, now really desperate. I wiped my face quickly, taking the cup from her hand and depositing it on the side table by the sofa. - Speak for goodness sake. She hesitated, still all bloody, choking on her own despair alone. - It was not supposed to be like this! - She started, almost crying - This had to be perfect! But it's all going wrong! Chris is right, I'm a coward ... I need to learn to do this sober ... I'm sorry for messing up tonight, but I told you that you would know after the party ... I stared at her a little confused. That was not the subject I was expecting.In fact, I had no idea what she was talking about, but even so, I paid close attention to what she had to say. Whatever it was, to leave her in that state, could only be something really important. And then she took a small, square black box out of her purse. The object almost slipped from her hands, and it was only then that I noticed how she was trembling. Lauren gripped the box tightly and opened it, revealing a reasonably thick, shiny gold ring. "You are the most important person in my life. And I know I could go on with this truth the way we are, but I want to make it so. I want to be able to introduce you to people as my wife. I want to form a family with you by the standards of society, and even if that is not essential, even if you do not think it important and perhaps you do not want to, I dream of the day when I can hear someone call you "Mrs. Jauregui." It's silly, I know, but I'm like this. Again, sorry for not having the courage to do it right. I'm sorry I can not ask for your hand being sober. And sorry to ruin everything. But if your answer is not what I want to hear, at least it will be easier to deal with it if I am that way. If you deny, I do not care. I will continue to love you, I will continue on your side and I will continue to commit myself to making you happy for the rest of my life. But if you want to make me the happiest woman in the world, please say yes: You agree to marry me ... In a week? Everything I'd been thinking before that moment-any fear, any anguish, any shit-had been completely forgotten. The pain in my chest diminished rapidly, until it ceased to exist. It was like receiving a dose of morphine that gradually worked. I remained in the same position, not moving a single muscle, breathing as if it needed concentration. She was almost silent: Her breath was too loud not to be heard. She was still on her knees in front of me, weakly holding the box with the ring tucked in there. The alcohol made her wobble a little to the sides and blink slowly, but she still stared at me with a certain fear in her eyes. I do not know why I was silent so long. Maybe because he could not speak. Maybe because he had no need to respond. She sat back on her heels, looking disappointed as she leaned against my legs. "You can think about it ..." She started, and the sad sound of her voice made me blink after a long time. I could think about it, but the fact was there was not a single reason I should think. The proposal was very simple: I could marry the woman I loved like crazy, form a family with her, live the rest of life by her side and be happy forever. Or, you could say "no." It was not a very difficult decision. - Think about? "I asked simply, in a weak voice - Lauren ... You really ... REALLY think I have any other answer but" yes "? She seemed to light up, making a face of surprise so innocent and true that it was hard to believe in the fact that yes, she doubted my answer. - Was that a yes? His voice quivered a little, showing incredibly stupid uncertainty. - Obvious. That was an "obvious". I answered in the same low, neutral tone, afraid to burst into tears if I took another stance. She smiled the biggest smile I had ever seen, making me forget about her insecurity, the alcoholic content in her blood or her broken nose. All she did was give that smile, and my heart just stopped beating for a moment. In a fraction of a second, I had an impulsive urge to scream so loud I was surprised I had not. But my body, including my vocal chords, was still numb. Lauren held my left hand gently, bringing her closer to him. Still grinning, she gently withdrew the old wedding ring that I had kept in the ring for so long, and with her other hand, she wedged the engagement ring there. I stared at her, trying to control the urge to simply throw myself on top of her and cry like a pamonha.She kissed my hand long, and when she pulled away, she left a trail of blood on it. - Shit! - Lauren said, trying to wipe the dirt with the other hand. Without thinking, I pulled the scarf that was still around my neck anyway, and I carefully wiped her face. I tilted his head back, trying to keep the blood from draining. She did not say anything, but she looked at me like an obedient, sleepy child. She seemed helpless, and seeing her like that made me so in love that when the urge to take her in my arms came, I did not hesitate. I approached her and, holding her face, I kissed her tenderly on the lips. It was as if the love I felt did not fit inside me and overflow. The remnants of blood left a salty taste on her lips, but I ignored it. I deepened the kiss, forcing my tongue against hers. I threw the blood-soaked scarf anywhere and pinned my fingers to her hair, sliding down and landing on her lap, on the floor. I slowly lifted her dress, unhurriedly, at a speed that her drunken mind could follow. Lauren moaned against my mouth, blindly feeling the zipper of her dress still closed but unable to open it, such was her drunkenness. - I got it. I mumbled into her ear, unzipped it, and finished taking off her dress. She moaned again, taking a full turn with her arms on my trunk. Her body and her head swayed so much that I was afraid she would fall, even as she sat on the floor. I wondered what that night would be remembered the next day. I kissed her again, forcing my body against her hips. She bit my lower lip with a little force, making me feel a slight pain, which I decided to ignore. I opened the buttons of her heel and did some juggling to pull them off her feet with her underwear. - Lie down. I spoke close to her face for her to understand. Lauren sank down on the fluffy rug with a little strength, and I knew it would have hurt if she had been sober. I just got up to take off my shoes and all the pieces of clothing under my dress. As I sat down again next to her hips, I noticed that no extra stimulus was necessary: She was already quite excited, though she seemed sleepy. His hands tightened around my waist. She looked like an impatient child, a little desperate, pulling me harder and harder against her. When I finally sat on his cock, Lauren let out a moan so loud it could be heard from outside the house. I covered her mouth with one hand, and she looked at me as if she were sorry, breathing hard. When I finally thought she would behave, I pushed my hand away and moved slowly, making her gradually get accustomed to our docking. She moaned again, this time down, trying to get up and sit, but too drunk to find a foothold. After not deciding to keep her hands on my hips or continue looking for them anywhere she could help her get up, Lauren finally found the sofa, pushing hard against her to sit on the floor. When she did, her body wavered again, and again I was afraid she would fall. She did not seem to notice her own state, wrapping her arms around my waist and kissing me for hours, whispering incomprehensible things against my mouth. His hands tightened on the sides of my body tightly, reinforcing the movements his cock made inside me. She wavered once more, and before we had done with the two bruises, I had her lean her back against the couch. She smiled absently at the demanding tone in my voice, turning us both to do as I had said. When her head fell heavily on the seat of the couch, holding it securely, I gripped her hair tightly and kissed it furiously, feeling the faint taste of Whiskey on her tongue and even enjoying it. She returned to my despair in an equally effusive manner, waving her hands all over my body, over her dress. His fingers pulled the fabric in several different directions, and I imagined she wanted me without it. I took it off at once and grabbed hold of it again.Lauren seemed to wake up from the trance as I felt my skin against her breasts, and the next second I felt her hands grip me tightly, pulling me against her body every time she invested against me. His mouth came to rest on my neck, lightly nibbling the skin there. I licked her in a sensual voice, saying that if she left any mark there, she would regret it bitterly of carelessness. She smiled again, panting so hard that for a moment I thought it was short of breath. "You're red ..." I said, starting to feel cold from the thin layer of sweat that bound our bodies together. "I'm ... Trying ..." She was trying not to have an orgasm, and I knew that. But it was just too hard not to tease her. "Enjoy me, Lauren. I spoke against his mouth, in the lowest nymphomaniac voice I could do. "Ahhhh, do not do that ..." She started grabbing me even harder as she made a face of crying. Lauren always policed to climax after me, and I did not know if it was chivalry or some kind of fetish. But when you are drunk, everything becomes much more difficult to control. "Enjoy me," I repeated, looking into her eyes like a maniac. "I want to feel the heat of your enjoyment." Lauren began to shake hard, and as if it were possible, she grew even redder. The veins of her temples became thick and obvious, and I sincerely hoped she would burst with pleasure.As his mouth returned to my neck, I felt her stifle the scream against my skin, squeezing me so tightly around my waist that I could feel pain. Her hands slowly loosened after a few seconds, returning to the delicacy with which she used to touch me. And that way Lauren stayed. I was just sure she was still alive because of her breathing. I pulled her hair back and let her head fall onto the couch. She murmured something, still with her eyes closed, and all I could do was laugh. Even pathetic she was beautiful. I stopped staring at her like an idiot and got up from her lap, hurrying into the bathroom to clean myself. On the way back, I found her sleeping like a child, in exactly the same position I had left her. With some juggling, I managed to make her lie down again on the rug and take off the blanket that covered the sofa to cover the two of us. It was out of the question to try and carry her into the bedroom, because we would both end up going downstairs. I grabbed some pillows from the nearest armchair and lay down next to her, staring at my ring and remembering how fast that night went from a nightmare to a dream. I would still talk to her about the conversation I heard at Mike's party. But for the moment, I allowed myself to savor the moment, clutching at his neck beneath the blanket and sighing a little relieved. I would be her wife. Officially. And that thought kept blinking inside my head. That night, it took me a little while to sleep. It was strange how my body did not feel the lack of rest. I had not slept well since the night had been filled with thoughts about my marriage and how unreal it seemed to be. So it was to be expected that I would wake up late - at least after Lauren. But there I was, wide-eyed at 6:15 AM, staring at her calm, hypnotized expression as the movement of his chest inhale and exhale. The rug beneath us was so soft and comfortable that I could spend hours in that same position, doing just that. However, I had a plan. And it had to be put into practice. So I got up at once and looked for a while at the little box and my old covenant. I found them thrown anyway on a corner of the rug and caught them, walking slowly out, trying not to wake Lauren.As his mouth returned to my neck, I felt her stifle the scream against my skin, squeezing me so tightly around my waist that I could feel pain. Her hands slowly loosened after a few seconds, returning to the delicacy with which she used to touch me. And that way Lauren stayed. I was just sure she was still alive because of her breathing. I pulled her hair back and let her head fall onto the couch. She murmured something, still with her eyes closed, and all I could do was laugh. Even pathetic she was beautiful. I stopped staring at her like an idiot and got up from her lap, hurrying into the bathroom to clean myself. On the way back, I found her sleeping like a child, in exactly the same position I had left her. With some juggling, I managed to make her lie down again on the rug and take off the blanket that covered the sofa to cover the two of us. It was out of the question to try and carry her into the bedroom, because we would both end up going downstairs. I grabbed some pillows from the nearest armchair and lay down next to her, staring at my ring and remembering how fast that night went from a nightmare to a dream. I would still talk to her about the conversation I heard at Mike's party. But for the moment, I allowed myself to savor the moment, clutching at his neck beneath the blanket and sighing a little relieved. I would be her wife. Officially. And that thought kept blinking inside my head. That night, it took me a little while to sleep. It was strange how my body did not feel the lack of rest. I had not slept well since the night had been filled with thoughts about my marriage and how unreal it seemed to be. So it was to be expected that I would wake up late - at least after Lauren. But there I was, wide-eyed at 6:15 AM, staring at her calm, hypnotized expression as the movement of his chest inhale and exhale. The rug beneath us was so soft and comfortable that I could spend hours in that same position, doing just that. However, I had a plan. And it had to be put into practice. So I got up at once and looked for a while at the little box and my old covenant. I found them thrown anyway on a corner of the rug and caught them, walking slowly out, trying not to wake Lauren.I went upstairs and took a hot bath, dressing in casual clothes and going back downstairs. I took the new ring from my finger and deposited it again inside the box, leaving it on the office table and wearing the old ring. I went to the kitchen and prepared something for breakfast. Then I waited, a little excited to myself, wondering how my plan would go. When I heard his heavy steps up the stairs, I began to prepare. Maybe that would be difficult for her. But Lauren had to understand. It needed to be done. Some time later, when the same heavy steps came down the stairs and went straight into the living room again, I waited a minute and went to meet her. When I entered, I found her trying to spread the blanket on the couch. His eyes were a little closed, maybe the hangover, and his nose was swollen, though it did not look broken. When Lauren looked at me, she smiled instinctively, and I had to force myself not to smile back and cling to her like a panda bear. In the next second, his eyes slid to my left hand, and seeing that the old covenant was there, his smile disappeared completely, giving way to an air of confusion. It was time to not let myself be carried away by the face of an abandoned puppy that Lauren knew how to do so well. It was time to follow my plan.- Good Morning. I started, using a natural tone of voice. "How's your nose?" She continued to stare at me with an expression of complete confusion. She was in the same position for a moment, and when she realized that she would not come to any conclusion, whatever her thoughts might be, she scratched her head and closed her eyes tightly, trying to position herself again. - What happened yesterday? Lauren asked in a voice more husky than usual. - We fucked on that rug. I pointed to where she was stepping. "Before that ..." "Before that, you broke your nose on the kitchen counter and almost killed me with fright. - Excuse. I did not want to make you worried ... My nose is fine ... "She said, looking a bit uncomfortable." But ... After that ... "I looked at her confidently. - After that ... We fucked on that rug. Lauren was mute again, her gaze unfocused, clearly trying to remember the order of the facts. As the seconds passed, her expression became more and more sad, and then I was sure she was thinking exactly what I wanted her to think: That the request for marriage had not passed from a dream. And no more than a dream, Lauren did not have my answer. And not having my answer, she would have to make the request again. Sober She looked at me a little desperately, to the point of crying. I knew that all those Whiskey doses were enough to make her wonder what had really happened and what had been just her imagination. My intention was not to see her suffer, but I had to listen to her proposal while she was sober. It did not in any way mean that his proposal last night had no value. But I simply needed to hear that from her. Right. "I think ... I think I dreamed about you ..." she murmured. I continued to stare at her without sketching any reaction. When I realized Lauren would not speak again, I said it.- Your father's party is over. You had something to tell me after it was over. She looked at me even more desperately, letting her breath now visibly heavier. Lauren rubbed her eyes with her hands, trying to calm down somehow. - Can you give me some more time? Some hours? I stared at her quietly, thinking of what to say. I could pretend to be irritated and do some drama, but I figured the right words would make her not be able to go back. - You promised. I spoke in a calm, low tone. She sighed audibly, looking sideways and mentally seeking a way out. When he found none, he rubbed his eyes again and brought his hands to her hair, tousling them even more. - It's all right. "She started, and I was sure she was talking to herself." Okay. Without another word, Lauren left the room and left me standing there, waiting for her return. Suddenly I started to get nervous, though it did not make much sense. It would be the third time she would declare herself to me and ask for a commitment. Besides, this time I was aware of what would happen, unlike the other times I was caught off guard. But on the other hand, it would be the first time I would have seen her do it completely conscious and true, without hiding behind the mask of her doses of Whiskey. When Lauren entered the room again, my body began to tremble involuntarily. I crossed my arms tightly in my chest, trying to calm myself down and mostly hide my tremors. I did not know if I was having much success. What was comforting was the fact that she seemed to be much more nervous than I was. - It's all right. She repeated, staring at me and looking more confident than she really was - I ... She stopped, staring at my arms still crisscrossed in her chest and taking a deep breath. Lauren took my hands in her - my shaking, her chilled ones - and began to join the small fragments of thoughts that passed through her head, sighing between one sentence and another. "I ... I think it's going to be awful ... if I can say what I mean." But even so, take into account only what I mean ... Okay? "Okay." "Okay," she repeated, squeezing my hands with a little force. "I mean ... I really love you." I really love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you ... Because I know you're the right woman for me. I know you would make me happy, and I know that I can make you happy too ... If you let me try. She released my hands and rubbed her face again, looking really desperate. - Ok ... I know this speech sucks ... I'm sorry for this ... I just want to ask you to ... To be with me forever, and to give me a chance to ... You know ... To show you that we worked together .... Lauren took from the pocket of her sweatpants the black box to which I had been presented the night before. My heart leapt into my chest and I had to force myself to keep it from showing. - I know we do not talk much about making our relationship official ... And I do not know what you think about it ... But I just want you to live forever by my side ... With my name ... And ... She opened the little box, and just like the night before, I noticed that her hands were shaking so hard it was visibly difficult for her to keep the object stuck in her fingers. - Okay ... I'll shut up. But regardless of your answer to the question I'm going to ask, know that you're going to have to put up with me forever. With or without that ... "She laughed without much will of her own joke. I would have laughed to encourage her, but my heart was still on the same beat, so all I did was keep staring at her with no reaction at all. She swallowed and her smile disappeared. "Will you ... marry?" With me? She offered me the open box with the gold rim inside, and my heart caught up with the crash. I do not know if it took me too long to respond, but it seemed to me that Lauren had been bothered by the silence, and she was quick to speak again. "Maybe you want to think about it a bit before you answer, and I'll take it." But if you can tell me until tomorrow ... Or Sunday ... Just because I thought we could enjoy that my family is all here ... And maybe, if you ... If you had no objection, we could get married next Saturday ... Sure, if you want! We can do it another time and call them again too ... If you feel better ... "Lauren was completely lost in her own thoughts. It became curious how such a powerful and apparently self-assured woman seemed at that moment a child with an incredible fear of rejection. It was like looking inside her and seeing her obvious fragility taking shape and strength every fraction of a second that my response remained mysterious.- Please ... Please say yes. She spoke again, and the slightly desperate tone in her voice made me react. "Yes ..." I said simply, staring at her expressionlessly, uttering every word with a frightening neutrality. "I agree to marry you. I agree to marry you in a week. Or in ten minutes. I agree to spend the rest of my life at your side, regardless of the title our relationship has. I accept, anyway, to be yours. Because I love you. Because I've always loved you. And because I doubt that someday I'll stop loving you. I accept to marry with you. Here or in hell, with or without witnesses, with or without guests. I'm yours and always was, even when it was not you who touched me. I accept to belong to you forever. I accept it a thousand times if I have to. I only realized I was crying when I felt the salty taste of a tear trickling down my face. She kept staring at me without replying, frozen in the same position, still offering me the alliance and seeming to understand, little by little, every word I said. When Lauren finally moved, it was so sudden that I was caught completely by surprise. All I knew about was his arms around my waist and his lips on mine, not exactly desperate, but still a little euphoric. She hugged me tightly-a force I had been unaccustomed to since the discovery of my pregnancy. I noticed that her whole body trembled, which made her own voice quiver with the involuntary movement of her muscles. I realized that I had never felt it that way. - Accepted? She asked against my mouth a little breathless, pressing me against a wall and pressing me more against itself - Really? "How can you think I would not take it, you idiot?" I snapped back, now really crying, laughing at the same time and trying to speak against his face amidst tears and kisses. She did not answer. Instead, she squeezed me harder against herself, holding my legs and forcing them around her waist. I grabbed at her hair and kissed it passionately, though breathing was starting to become a difficult task. His cell phone rang suddenly, making me tremble with fright. Lauren ignored him. - Is my sister. Forget. She still spoke in a slightly shaky voice against my mouth, pressing me harder on the wall so I could take her arms off my hips and bring the little box between us again without me falling. After all those moves, I thought it was impressive that the ring was still there. She took my left hand very gently, repeating the act of the night before as if it were the first time. My old covenant was removed and gave way to the new one, much thicker and brighter. I began to cry even more intensely, sobbing and choking on my own tears, and Lauren stared at me with a smile, distributing soft, loving kisses all over my wet face. She did not understand what I was feeling, and could never understand. She did not know what it was like to experience a sensation that I had grown accustomed to believe I could never feel. Because even if my past did not astonish me in the same way, it was still hard to believe that anyone could want me that way. Marrying and building a family was something that was not in my plans, not because I did not want to, but because I was already willing to accept that no one would ever give me that chance. And being Lauren the person giving me that chance was too, too good to sound true. - I love you. I said, leaning my forehead against hers and letting tears roll freely over her face. "Even you being an idiot to the point of having some doubt ..." She laughed, kissing me again and touching my chin, insisting on trembling for cause of crying. "I was told that you would accept ... But I was afraid to risk ... Your mood was changing a lot ... - And you think that would be enough to make me deny you? Only a gun pointed at my head could have that effect! I backed up, giving a slight sting on his shoulder and holding me even more tightly around his waist with his legs. She took my left hand in the new wedding ring and kissed it, making my skin tingle a little."I dreamed of you ..." She started, still against the palm of my hand. "I dreamed that I had already asked you to marry me, and that you had accepted ... I was so happy, but when I saw your old wedding ring .." I panicked ... "It was no dream. She stared at me confused, her lips still glued to my hand. "But-" "You asked me to marry you yesterday." Drunk. And I accepted. And only then did we fuck on the rug. Lauren did not move, too intent on understanding what I was saying. His lips were still in my ring, while his eyes met mine a little distracted. Suddenly, I considered the possibility of her getting extremely pissed off at my attitude, not knowing why I had not thought about it before. "Have you ... Have you ...?" "Yeah," I said, starting to cry again, this time for fear of hating me. "Sorry, I did not want to make you nervous ... But I needed to hear this from you sober ... Of course, yesterday's request had value, but I wanted so much ... So much to hear of you being completely conscious ... Please, do not get upset with me. I finished pouting involuntarily, letting more tears flow down my already soaked face. I grabbed her neck again, pressing our foreheads together and hoping she would not send me to hell. - It's all right. She began, after closing her eyes, sighing and staying silent for a long time. "I think I would have the right to be upset if you were wrong." But you're not. I needed to take courage and face this panic of everything that is related to you. I clung harder around her neck, making a little morning. I was happy to be smaller than her and lighter too, even pregnant, allowing her to hold me for so long without getting tired. "Are not you upset?" I asked with tear-stained eyes. "Jura?" - I'm not upset. She replied, putting her serious face aside and giving a crooked smile so beautiful and naughty that I had to hold myself so I did not bother her. "You said yes twice. I will not be upset with absolutely nothing today. I attacked her again, molding her tongue to mine in a passionate, effusive kiss. I grabbed the box she still held in one hand and threw it away, just because I wanted to feel both her hands free and flat on my body. When I began to feel a very pleasant and promiscuous fire consuming me slowly, her phone rang again. - DAMN! I leapt out of her lap after the fucking cell phone. When I found him playing the world's most annoying music on the shelf, I answered without looking, trying not to show that I was a whore. - Hello! - Hi ... Mila? - Hi, Taylor. Yes, your sister asked me to marry her. And yes, I accepted. As soon as I shut my mouth, I was afraid that I had been rude to the tone I used with her. To my delight, Taylor did not seem to get upset. - At last! Chris and I were already betting to see if she would need another week! She said, looking good-humored and showing no surprise. At that moment, Lauren materialized behind me and, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she slipped her hands over my body in sensitive places and in extremely inappropriate ways, kissing my unoccupied ear on the phone and giving little nibbles on my neck. My whole body caught fire. "Yes ..." I managed to reply, closing my eyes tightly so that I could not see the desire in my voice. "We have to celebrate before we start the preparations!" 13pm at The Wolseley today, family lunch! Since I could not speak properly because Lauren had decided, very naturally, to reach into my fucking panties and play with her fingers there, I answered the first quick thing that came to mind. "Okay ... Still playing with her fingers on my pussy, she forced herself against my body just for the purpose of showing how excited she was. I threw my free hand back, grabbing it and squeezing it harder against me. "Ask your fiancée not to be late!" She knows where it is. We wait for you there. She said, then hung up. I tossed my cell phone anywhere and turned to her, holding her by the shirt.- How soon do we have to leave? She asked provocatively, as if my body was not completely on fire and as if she was not fully aware of it. - It depends. How soon can you eat me? I answered, already pushing her to the couch. She smiled in that devilish and beautiful way that only she knew how to do, pulling me into a furious kiss and dropping us on the cushions. *** An hour later, ready and waiting for Lauren to finish packing, sitting on the edge of the bed, I was taken from my daydreams by arms around my waist, a hot mouth on my neck and a wonderful blend of perfume, shampoo and toothpaste. I blinked a few times as I returned to reality, stopping staring at my ring as I thought of unpleasant things. "Have you repented?" She teased, biting the earlobe. "If you're waiting for this, you can forget." I smiled back, though I was not completely comfortable. And she noticed that. - What happened? I turned in his arms to face her, trying to appear casual. "What did the boy want to talk to you about at your father's party?" She blinked a few times, holding one of my hands. I wished, for all that was most sacred, that she should not lie. "Why are you so curious?" She asked, smiling vaguely. "I'm just curious when my intuition tells me to be. Tell me ... What did he want? Lauren sighed, holding my two hands in hers. "He wanted to give me a message. Of Beatrice. Hearing that name from her mouth made my chest suddenly hurt. I could not tell if Lauren had noticed how much it affected me, but the next second she was already explaining everything: - He is her cousin ... I knew her for it, since we were always friends ... But that does not matter . - What was the message? I asked and wished she'd let go of my hands. Lauren was calm, almost indifferent, and for that very reason the cold and trembling in my hands became obvious against her firm hands. - That she was alone. And that he regretted leaving me. And that he wanted to try on me again ... I already knew all that, and I thought it was enough not to lose my temper. But I was mistaken: When Lauren stopped talking, just to breathe, I noticed that she was incredibly nervous, nauseous and, moreover, crying. - What did you answer? - I asked you to marry me. What do you think I answered? She finished, wiping away a tear, a simple smile on her face. I remained motionless and silent, wanting to hear it all from her mouth. "I told him to tell Beatrice to forget me." Because she no longer exists for me. It has ceased to exist since I met you. And I asked him to tell her that I've never been as happy as I am now because I've found someone who's really worth it. Someone much more interesting, much more decent and much better than her in every way. Someone who turned my addiction, far more powerful and tempting than she could ever have even thought of being. Someone who makes me much, much happier than she was ever able to do. I did not blink. She was attentive to everything she said, and even if she knew that most likely those were not the same words she'd used the night before-not even a sober person could remember all that-it was enough to hear her now. - I love you. You. And no one else. Understood? She concluded in a very simple way. I clung to his shirt, as I used to do when I felt so much in love with her all of a sudden. This happened more and more frequently. "How many times a day can I say that I love you without you finding me a sack?" I asked, touching our lips without pushing. She laughed, bringing me up into her lap. "You can say as many times as you like ... As long as you do not rub yourself in on me while you say that ..." And again, Lauren was already having a hard time. "We just did this ..." I said all over her mouth. - Love ... I'll tell you something that may not have been clear yet: You fucking excite me. By the volume inside your pants, I really excited! "We have time ..." I said, wiping my own tears against her face. "They're waiting for us." "The Wolseley is less than thirty minutes from here. She started, kissing my neck and shoulder. "If I look at the clock now and conclude that we still have time, can I attack you?" I did not answer, and that obviously was a consent to his question. When she brought her wrist in front of her face, I caught myself twisting fervently so that her watch was late. Lauren looked at me again, this time with a devilish expression, and before he said anything, I was already celebrating in silence. ***We arrived at The Wolseley a little before 1:20. It was a very upscale restaurant, big and beautiful, packed with serious people. Lauren spoke to the receptionist about the reservation on behalf of the Jauregui's and headed to the table with 8 chairs, four of which were already occupied by Clara, Chris, Taylor and Oliver. Our short delay seemed to have been forgiven. We were welcomed with several hugs, kisses and wishes of happiness. Mike was at work, but according to Clara, he would be back in a few minutes. "But have you taken any action, Lauren?" I thought I was getting married first. - Chris started wryly as we sat down too - You'd have to get a girlfriend first. Lauren bit her bitterly at being ridiculed. "If you continued your slug attitude with Alzheimer's to declare at once, I think I could do it." "We can not fail to thank Dad's Ballantine's. Taylor entered the game, referring to the Whiskey bottle that Lauren had probably almost emptied the night before. - Hey, Chris. If Lauren finally got Mila to marry a few doses, maybe you can get a girlfriend if you take too. It seems to work miracles. Chris mumbled something to her, calling her "people project" and other pseudo-curses before he sent her to shit in an almost serene tone. I looked at Lauren beside me and she stared back at me, holding a fake and sly smile on her face. "Nothing will irritate me today. You said yes". She spoke close to my ear, and I wanted to laugh at almost seeing her send everyone there to inappropriate places. But at the same time I felt a certain pity for her. Lauren was a constant target of the brothers' jokes, and seeing her a little bite with the ironies gave me an enormous willingness to defend her. "He asked me to marry him today, too." I started loudly and teasingly, for everyone to hear me. "It was a lot better than yesterday. Even our little celebration later ... Chris did a "oooooooow" followed by laughter, and Lauren looked like a pre-teen proud of having just tasted the whole school that was good. Clara, hitherto silent and unobtrusive about Chris and Taylor's jokes, came out with a "I knew my daughter was good!" And I could not help laughing at the grotesque scene. - Hey, Lauren! - Taylor started, seizing the occasion for yet another joke - You can not do this with Mila! She is pregnant! Before Lauren could make a face of "it's really such a stupid thought that it's a joke ... But I did just that," I replied again, fearing that she would suffer bullying for the rest of her life if one of the brothers understood, "Oh, but she does. And it does very well done. An undisputed air of "I'm a fuck" emanated from her without my having to look at it to deduce that. Before Chris could think of another joke, we were interrupted. - I arrived! I arrived! he said apologetically as he walked around the big table and walked straight to Lauren-Lolo! "Sorry to get you out of work, Dad. - She started, already giving the famous bear hug - I told mama I did not need ... - Of course I needed! You got engaged! The least I can do is to be present at the celebration! - He said all happy - Congratulations, daughter. I'm sure you'll be very happy. Lauren thanked her softly and released her father from the embrace.Mike turned to me with that malevolent crooked smile just like his daughter. I felt compelled to hug him, but I held back, choosing to simply return the smile. "By the way, I can tell you beforehand that you're sure to be one of the most beautiful brides ever seen." He said, kissing my cheek gently and wrapping me in a gentle hug. "Welcome to our family, Mila. Now officially. - Thanks. "It's good that you no longer need to keep secrets about the lady's intentions here." He spoke in a good mood, pointing to Lauren and going to sit next to his wife. "I knew they were hiding something." I started, pretending to be furious as I stared at Chris. "And you swore you did not know anything." "I'm an accomplished representative of the Performing Arts, my dear. Although it almost spoiled everything when you arrived. - Yeah. Lauren said a little bitterly, remembering Chris's rally that made me start to suspect things. - Hey! In my defense, the plan was for you to marry her in the United States, you fearsome albino panda! - Lauren! "I started suddenly, moved by surprise." How long had you intended to do that? "There's some-" She stammered, like a child who just did shit. "What matters is that it's done, is not it?" Oliver said in defense of his sister-in-law. "With almost a whole bottle of whiskey, until I can get Mila to marry me," Taylor said wryly, not missing a chance to ridicule Lauren. - I asked again today, damn it! She answered in a slightly squeaky voice, though no one around us seemed to pay any attention to our table. But it was clear that Taylor and Chris did not care about that information, since nothing that could be used against Lauren would be drawn from her. We toasted champagne (and strawberry juice for myself and Taylor) and had lunch that I did not know exactly what it was, but it was certainly one of the hottest things I had ever tasted. Clara and Taylor began talking animatedly about the wedding arrangements, since everything would have to be ready in a week. It was May 1, and we were getting married on the 9th of that month, on a Saturday. Their joy began to infect me, and a few minutes later I experienced an expectation so great and so good that I felt more alive than ever. But it was when Clara asked Lauren and me about the decor and style of the ceremony that I felt really different. - What the other bride wants. Lauren replied, wrapping an arm around my waist and gently kissing my face. Everyone stared at me, and I stared back at them for a while. - Come on! - Taylor encouraged me, smiling - Just tell us how you always imagined that your marriage would be. We can try to do the same! What Taylor and no one at the table knew, except perhaps for Lauren, was that I had never thought of it. Because, in fact, I had never even considered getting married. Maybe I did it when I was seven or eight years old, but the time I spent and the disappointments they found in my life were enough to erase that memory, if it existed. "I ... I do not know ... I never thought much about it ... Taylor looked at me like someone who looks at a mentally ill: What woman had never created her own dream-wedding? - So, if you want ... We can give you suggestions. Clara said, looking more like a mother than ever. - Yes! Would be wonderful! I answered, already breathing a little more relieved - Anything simple ... Nothing big or flashy ... The truth was that I did not need any party, no ceremony and no guest to get married. If I had to, I'd marry Lauren on a curb on a towel. It was enough that she and I and someone with enough power to marry were present. Taylor turned to his mother and blinked, smiling again. "You know what I have in mind." Clara nodded, beginning to speak again: "Okay. So how about this: An outdoor wedding in the garden of my house. A simple altar and some chairs, and white flower arrangements. A little party for later people, a little champagne, a few songs until the evening, some spots of light scattered around the garden and ... Well, whatever else you want. But that's just an idea, of course. Taylor and I thought that style suited you, but we're here to help with your decisions.She and Taylor looked at me expectantly, perhaps because I had not said anything for a long time. I was imagining every little detail about the image they were describing to me, and for a moment, all I did was stare silently at the beauty of that scene. It was perfect. I stared at Lauren as a child asking permission for something. - Like the idea? She asked, tightening the hug around my waist and looking genuinely interested in my answer. - What did you think? I asked, wanting to know what her opinion was. I would not marry alone. "As long as you're there, I honestly have no objections." She smiled in a simple way. "I ..." I started, turning to Clara and Taylor again and trying to formulate the right phrase "It's perfect!" Absolutely perfect ... They laughed satisfied and blinked at each other. "Gentlemen ..." Taylor began, using a tone of political speech to his words to everyone sitting at that table. "We have a Jauregui wedding to get ready. Let the party begin! It was still a little difficult to believe that all of this was true, but everyone seemed willing to convince me of the reality. I had a week to see my dream come true, and with the help of Jauregui's, especially Clara and Taylor, my dream would not only be realized as I had a certain impression that it would turn out to be better than I had imagined. "At my wedding, I remember almost freaking out. And look, I planned it all a year in advance. Taylor said excitedly as we sat for the first time with a pad of paper in front of us and pens of different colors. Clara was so excited that she seemed to have gone back to her teens, and then, ironically, I realized that the least restless people there were myself and Lauren, who insisted on being present at every choice we made. - Come on. The first thing we need to know is: What are the colors? Clara asked, the pencil already in writing position for my answer. "Colors of what?" I asked, a little distracted. - Decoration. - I thought it was white. Lauren said to my side, making a face of doubt. "Of course it's going to be white, you moron. Taylor laughed as Clara laughed, and thanked Lauren for saying that, not me. "But the details are usually of other colors. "What if I wanted my marriage to have the white details?" Lauren asked sulkily, emphasizing the word "mine." "You have nothing to want." You're just another bride. It's Mila who decides. "Do you want it all white?" I asked softly close to her face. - I have no preference. You can choose. She replied with a crooked smile as she tossed her hair behind my ear. "I thought that details in shades of bright green would look beautiful ... You know, since we're going to do it in the garden ... I think it would." "Did you see why you did not have to meddle in the wedding arrangements?" Taylor said smiling and winking at her sister, while Clara was already jotting down my idea. I looked at Lauren just to make sure that choice had not displeased her. She smiled simply. It took the entire Saturday to put down some "early" ideas, Taylor said. We discussed the various possibilities of gardening, contacts of musicians, photographers and waiters, such as torrential rain and intense cold, invitation model, among other things. Lauren was keen on every decision, but it seemed to be there only to keep me company, since everything I decided was readily accepted with a smile on my lips. I left less important things for later, though Taylor insisted that minute details were essential. I refused to discuss things like the color and texture of the napkins, the fabric of the chair liner, and the size of the glasses that would be part of the party. I made it clear that this sort of thing could be chosen by Lauren if she wanted to. But she did not seem to want to, and in the end, those decisions ended up being the responsibility of Taylor and Clara. "I'm going to go get makeup and hairdressers tomorrow." Taylor said, clapping his hands like a happy five-year-old. "I can help you with the buffet, if you wish." Clara said sympathetically. I nodded, thanking both of them for help.At the end of that day, I realized that this week was probably the busiest period of my life so far. On Sunday, Clara and Taylor went to our house in the afternoon to continue the conversation. Lauren always sat next to me, and I imagined how monotonous it all was to her. For this very reason, he could not help but admire his companionship. "I'm running after the best London makeup artist!" I stared at Taylor a little stunned. "But ... I do not need the best London makeup artist ..." "How come?" It's your wedding! "I know, but ... I do not need all this. Any responsible makeup artist is fine. - But why? "Taylor did not seem to understand my point of view, since the word" budget "had never been uttered before. "Because we have less than a week, and I'm sure it will take time. Believe me, I gladly accept any make-up artist. - Okay, okay. She snorted, looking bored. "Well ... I need your wedding ring." I looked at her questioningly, covering the ring with her other hand. It was an idiotic but involuntary reaction. - Because? I asked. - To have your names engraved. I stood still, wondering if that was a good idea. It was obvious that Taylor would not disappear into my ring, but I was not prepared to part with her. Not even for a few days. Even so, going totally against my will, I took it out of the ring at once and handed it to her, already feeling the absence of the weight of the ring there. "And how do you want your makeup?" Clara got my attention again, already with the block in her hands. - I want it clear. And discreet. Nothing flashy ... - Mila, have you ever been a nun? Lauren laughed at her sister's comment. Taylor and Clara laughed at her reaction, and I blushed. - Because? "If she's content with everything, she's shy, discreet, too good ... Not to mention she has the patience of a Tibetan monk for putting up with Lauren. "She's just a better person than you, Taylor. Lauren concluded sweetly, wrapping an arm around my back and pulling me to her. She ignored it. "At your bachelorette party, I'm taking you to a women's club." We're going to make-up our clothes, smoke marijuana, drink vodka until dawn, and see muscled, semi-naked men in the heat dancing in their thongs. Clara simply rolled her eyes. Lauren was silent at my side, probably realizing that this was a joke, since we were both pregnant in the first place. "Do that and I'll slit you while you sleep." She said, smiling quietly and even gently. - Okay. Clear makeup. Clara began, trying to get everyone's attention for what really mattered. "What about the hairstyle, my dear?" Do you have any in mind? - Ahm ... A coke? Or something that does not make my hair completely loose ... "It sounded like a question, because I did not want to show how unprepared I was for that. - That! Taylor turned her attention to me again. "A coke or a frayed braid!" I think it's going to be perfect. "I like it when you leave this region free." Lauren said, infiltrating her hand beneath my hair and lightly tracing the tips of her fingers at the back of my neck, walking around her shoulders. I shuddered at the touch. When Clara entered the subject of the guests, I felt a little tense. Somehow (obviously by Lauren), they both knew that my parents had already passed away, because at no time did they ask for them. When I made it clear that there would be no guests on my part, Clara seemed genuinely surprised.I mentioned quickly that I had not left anyone important enough in the United States, and before either of them could dispute, Lauren spoke up, saying something I did not pay attention to, just to stop the flow of the conversation. It was easier to escape that response than to say that the only living people I really cared about could not be there. It was night when Clara and Taylor left. - Your sandwich. - Lauren said, entering the room and going to sit between me and the headboard, keeping me between her legs while increasing the volume of the movie on TV. - What? I called, holding my plate in my lap. - Can I ask you something? "Why do you ask that if you know you can?" She laughed against my ear. "Are you going to call that friend of yours?" Jonathan? His mouth was still against my neck, so I could feel that his smile had died against my skin. "No." "But ... is not he your friend?" I mumbled, already regretting to insist. "You're not a friend enough to be at my wedding." And besides, I do not want to ruin my day looking at him and remembering a person I want far. I sighed, still with my back to her, unable to touch my sandwich and placing it on the bedside table next to me. - I'm listening. She said, making it clear that she knew me well enough to know I was nudging something inside, while stroking my belly with the gauge. "Do you still have feelings for her?" Please, feel ... You can talk. "Yes, I have feelings for her. I feel contempt. Although, deep down, I am grateful to her for being a complete bitch and having abandoned me. Because otherwise, I would never have known the woman of my life ... "She spoke, being incredibly cute and romantic. So what I said next was not only utterly inappropriate but also incredibly stupid. - ... That she was a bitch, too. I stood still, still with my back to Lauren, a little lost, feeling myself drown in the overwhelming silence of the room. Why, why had I said that? What on earth did I have on my head? Shit? What was my problem? If until that day I still was not sure, from that moment it was official: I suffered from some mental retardation. I swallowed what appeared to be some stones, but it was just my own saliva. I turned around in her arms just to face her as she apologized for ruining that moment, reminding us of some rather unpleasant things that should never have come out of the past. I looked at her with pleading eyes, and was surprised to see her with a queer expression on her face. She did not look like a bitch, but rather fun. As Lauren leaned over and spoke to my ear, it took me a few minutes to figure out what she was saying: "My bitch. She punctuated the phrase by applying a perfect angle to that crooked, beautiful, immoral smile. I continued to stare at her with a look of dead fish, still too stunned to understand what she was doing and formulate an intelligent response. - Yours...? - Yup. She spoke quietly, and I had the impression of seeing her eyes flicker for a few tenths of a second, and then again showing all confidence - my beautiful bitch. Just mine. I kept staring at her without reaction, trying to get something out of her attitude that would confirm that Lauren was actually saying, quite naturally, that I was her bitch. I knew this was common in many relationships, but we had never used those provocative and "dirty" nicknames during the holiday. Maybe because it seemed inappropriate, or maybe because, considering her hesitation a few seconds ago, she feared that I might feel offended. When she started talking again, the crooked smile was gone. There was a slightly guilty expression in his place. My silence had probably made her think she had crossed over.But the fact was that I had not felt offended. I had liked it. "Were you upset?" - She said, looking at me like someone who felt pain - I'm sorry, I just found ... - I took one of his hands to his mouth and made her stop. "You want me to be your bitch, Lauren?" I asked in a slightly provocative tone, starting to get in the mood. She kept staring at me, as if she did not know the best answer to give. - If you want to be ... - Answer my question. She was silent for a while, and I hated the fact that she regretted playing that way. "I ... I wanted ..." I turned between her legs and faced her. I brought my mouth close to his ear and bit the cartilage with a little force, using his fingers to tease provocatively from the hem of his pants. - I wanted? I said, very low, letting out intense breaths of air. "Do not you want more?" She trembled, and her hands, before soft on my belly, flew to my waist and squeezed me. "Hmmm ..." she murmured, closing her eyes and pressing me against his hard cock. "I've always been your bitch, Lauren. I stammered against his ear in a hoarse, purposefully sexy voice. "You're going to need to fuck me up enough times to figure this out?" She wrapped her tongue in response to something coherent, but she did not care to make herself understood. In the next second, his mouth was already glued to mine without much ceremony, uniting us in a hot, intense kiss. One of his hands migrated to the nape of my neck, tightening the strings willy-nilly. The other pulled my panties without the slightest modesty and began to play there, as if I really needed to be stimulated. I pulled the elastic from his pants all at once and his cock jumped out, so firm that it even touched his own belly button. I passed the gauge through the viscous liquid that ran down the already swollen head and licked, but I did not have time for her to react anyway. Holding it firmly, I rose from his lap and sat down again in it, all at once, feeling his cock buried in me as deep as it was possible. Lauren clutched at the hem of the shirt I wore to keep her hands busy and not squeeze me with the strength she wanted. I, on the other hand, did not have the slightest care, touching it, squeezing it and scratching it without worrying whether it would leave marks or not. Sometime that night, the clothes I wore were ripped and tossed into some corner of the room. It was already dawn when I got to sleep clinging to it, exhausted, without even remembering to start to be anxious for the passage of time, taking me closer and closer to the big day. *** ... - And the cake must have at least five floors! Clara and I looked at Taylor with a startled look, but she did not seem to notice. It was not 10 o'clock that morning, and maybe I was still too sleepy to understand her exaggerations. - You are crazy? Lauren let out a smile, "Our wedding will not have 70 guests. "Because you're leaving a lot of people out." She argued. "I'm just calling who really cares, Taytay. Camz wants a little party, so let's have a little party. It's going to be a cake for 70 guests at most.If you order one of five floors, can you tell me where the hell I'm going to stick everything left? - Can. You can stick it ... - Mila! Clara interrupted her, turning our attention to the more than ten magazines scattered around the table. "How many floors would you like the cake to have?" "I do not know," I said, fearing that Taylor would simply stop talking to me, or worse, murder me. "I thought ... Two?" - I think it's great. - Clara said, giving a maternal smile - Two wide floors are more than enough. Lauren? - According. It was surprising how we could decide things, even with Taylor at our side. Unlike what I imagined, she was not getting into every little detail and stamping her foot for decisions that did not fit her. Even if she was clearly against it, she accepted and did not insist on the discussion. And this, along with Lauren's objectivity and Clara's good ideas, made decisions fairly quickly. "Lauren, let's choose the bouquet now. - Taylor said, opening a laptop in front of us with executive air - Go to pick coconuts. - Why do I have to leave? - She asked, a little annoyed - As far as I know, it is the dress of the bride that the "groom" and in my case "bride" can not see before the wedding. This rule does not apply to the bouquet."The whole bride has to be a surprise. From the dress to the enamel color. Taylor snapped. - Lo, she's right. I said, and Taylor smiled triumphantly. She smiled, too. "And do you really think I do not know which flower will be in your bouquet?" She asked, amused, as she wrapped a lock of hair through her forefinger. I stared at her for a moment, only to come to the obvious conclusion that she was right. Lauren knew the flower I would choose. Because I liked all the flowers, but a special era. Simply because she herself had made it special. Of course she did. - Hey! Lauren and I looked forward, looking for the owner of "hey," and we were blinded by a flash. - Thank you. Chris said, and as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he withdrew with a camera in his hand without bothering to explain anything at all. - Lauren, hello! Taylor said, kicking the legs of her chair. She made a weird movement with her hands, as if she wanted to squeeze it, and then I pricked. - Lo, I'm hungry. Make a sandwich for me? I asked, with a look of abandonment. - Of course, love! - She consented, already getting up - Want a sandwich of what? - Anything hot. I smiled, giving her a kiss, and she went out into the kitchen. It did not take a very long time to decide that point. Taylor searched the internet for a list of images of the most varied types of bridal bouquets, giving me more options. In the end, I opted for a cascade bouquet, very different from the traditional ones (which looked like small cabbages). And, as Lauren already knew, it would be composed of Camellias, all white, mingled with green leaves braided in the arrangement, along with some golden threads. "Your sandwich, my love. She spoke suddenly, startling the three of us, and Taylor slammed the laptop shut. Lauren noticed the state of nerves of the sister and was hurried to speak - I did not see anything! I was not even looking! I believed. She always seemed more attentive to me than anything around us. When I stared at the plate placed in front of me, with a three-loaf sandwich, one knows what else between those slices and a peach juice as an accompaniment, I tried to speak naturally. - Lo ... What's wrong with that sandwich? "Cheese, lean cheese, turkey breast, smoked ham, lettuce, tomato, watercress, grated carrot, shredded chicken, a little olives, peas ..." "I see-" I interrupted her, still staring at the huge sandwich. I was not hungry, but I would not admit that I had only asked for the sandwich to get her out of the room before she strangled Taylor. I ended up eating the whole snack, because although I was not hungry, everything was very good. Half an hour later lunch was served, and in an amazing way, I was able to accompany them in the meal too, without even denying the dessert. Suddenly a thought came to my head like torture: I would get married in five days, and I would be worried that I would be fattening and fitting into my wedding dress if I had begun to think about it. Three maids emerged from somewhere and began to remove the table. I waited for everyone to spread to corner Taylor in a corner and show my despair. - Taylor! The dress! The dress. It was one of the things that took so long to be decided in the marriage process, and I knew it. How the hell had not she thought of him? Why had not we started looking for him? - What's with the dress? - She asked. - I do not have a! I said, trying not to sound shrill. "Mila, my sister took a century to ask for your hand. But just because Lauren is slow does not mean I have to wait for her. I kept staring at her, silently asking her to explain what it was all about. She rolled her eyes. "Do you think my mother always had these bridal magazines at home?" Do you think we've always had phone numbers for florists and decorators? Since Lauren told us that she would ask you to marry, which for some time now, we started looking for details that could help with the organization. We could not do everything until we had your answer, but since everyone - except her - was sure of your answer, we started looking for things without you even knowing it. So I gave myself the freedom to have her dress done. And do not worry, you'll like him.At least he liked the last time he put it on. Although it was green. But imagine it white with some embroidered details, and I think it will match perfectly with a discreet and simple marriage. Without even answering anything, I remembered the dress that Taylor had made me try a few days ago at the mall. I remembered that it was an inappropriate dress for a birthday, but interesting enough to go through a wedding dress. And if I were to take into consideration how beautiful he was and how I felt using it, I could say yes: I would love to marry him. "But if you do not like it, we can look for another-" "No! - I interrupted her without much education - It's perfect! Thank you, Taylor! I hugged her with a little difficulty because of our bellies, trying hard not to be moved. - Hey, Lauren! Chris shouted after us. "I found two pregnant women here. Come see if one of them is what you are looking for! That afternoon, we went to choose the invitation template. Considering that we had four days to print the sayings and send them to the guests, we came to the consensus that it should be quite simple. The text had already been thought by Clara and confirmed by me and Lauren. When we were told it was at least a week before all the invitations were ready, Lauren asked Clara and Taylor to escort me to the car, waiting for her there. I had made sure that she had offered a good amount to expedite the process, and knew that the amount was good enough for the offer to be readily accepted. On Tuesday, Lauren looked disappointed when Clara informed her that she could not accompany us that day. "Why not?" She asked, looking like a puppy in the rain. "Because we're going to try the dress, the props, the make-up and the hairstyle." "I can wait in the car ..." "Darling," Clara began gently. "Why do not you call the contacts of tables, chairs, lampposts, musicians ... We still have a lot to decide. And, moreover, you have to close all the wedding roles, and still choose your dress. After a few minutes of trying to convince her that this was the best thing to do, we drove to a busy little shopping street, where shop windows were shown for weddings, including wedding dresses, bridesmaids, and everything you could imagine. On that street there was another store unit that Taylor and I visited at the mall, only bigger. We do not need to report the dress. Taylor simply said her name, and one of the store attendants led us to the dressing room, where, in one of the booths, the dress was already waiting for us. Hanging on a tall hanger, the dress was not exactly as I remembered it. It was embroidered across the length of the fabric, a very fine, gold-threaded diamond-shaped cross on the belly and wide sleeves, along with the joust of white silk with lace details. My heart began to beat faster. - I gave the idea of these small modifications ... - Taylor started in my ear - But if you did not like it, we can go back to the original. The dress seemed to shine before our eyes. Beside him, on a small bench, was a glass-like choker that matched the dress perfectly, giving the finishing touch of what I thought was perfection. - Its beautiful! - I was able to talk after a while. It did not take much to get inside him with the attendant's help. I looked in the mirror just to see what I already knew: He was perfect, in every detail, at every seam. I looked like a princess, an angel, or anything magical, and I had to remind myself to thank Taylor for the rest of my life. When I left the dressing room, the two of them looked at me as if I were shining. Clara let out a sigh as her eyes filled with water.- I 'm fucking. - I heard Taylor speak - Can say: Is or is not perfect? - Really is. I replied, looking around at all the mirrors that gave me views from different angles of my body. "You look absolutely beautiful." Clara said with a smile as she adjusted one of the sleeves. - It's my wedding gift. Taylor spoke softly to my ear, and I thanked him from the bottom of my heart. The attendant who had helped me with the dress brought the choker and closed it around my neck. I glanced at the nearest mirror again to get an idea of the whole. I stood for a long time without saying anything, wondering what it would be like to be dressed that way at my wedding. My heart raced again. "Do you think Lauren will like it?" I asked absently, still staring at my reflection and the reflection of the three women around me. - You have got to be kidding. Taylor sneered, clutching my hair and forming a tentative bun. "She would find you beautiful even if you were dressed as an astronaut." So then ... "" She's going to fall in love even more. Clara spoke sweetly. The clerk did not have to do much. The dress had been made for my own measurements: Taylor had worked on it, and I knew it. The hem was already adjusted to my height, which indicated that I would not have to wear heels in the garden of Clara and Mike's house. When I had worn the dress for so long that we had already decorated every detail, I traded with the certainty that this was the most perfect dress I could find, and did not even have to look for others. Maybe because I did not even want to look. We left the dress in the shop and went to another store, also suitable for brides. We chose a simple and beautiful, completely flat sneaker with some sparkles and delicate embroidery. The choice did not take much time, so minutes later we were in the car again, taking Clara's shoes and dress to Clara's house. When we got there, Lauren was kicked out by Taylor, just like Chris and Oliver. In the face of the last two protests that they were not engaged, Taylor could make it clear that the presence of any man around me was forbidden. They obeyed grumpily, leaving with Lauren. The three of us, alone at home with the maids, had lunch and prepared for the visit of the team of hairdressers and make-up artists Taylor had contacted. They arrived at the appointed time, bringing all the paraphernalia for those things, and I could swear that I had never seen so many shades of pink to blush in my life. Over time, we were seeing the mixture of light tones in my face delineate and value everything that should be valued there. At the end of the makeup session, I looked in the mirror and was surprised at how beautiful I really was. The makeup was soft, but it was incontestably perfect. Ignoring Taylor's protests about the light colors, we moved on to the hairstyle. We experimented with various arrangements, ranging from simple loose threads to worked braids and blended with other types of hairstyle. In the end, perhaps because it even matched more with the shape of my face and the style of both the dress and the party itself, we decided that a shredded braid, purposely messy and dropped forward on one shoulder, was the best choice out of all of them , giving myself a more simple and delicate air. By the time it was settled, it was getting dark. I waited for all the staff to leave and took a quick shower to get the production out. The dress, choker, and shoes were stored in one of Clara's guest rooms, and Taylor made sure to lock the door, always closed, with a warning that if Lauren or anybody else entered, the wedding would immediately canceled. By the end of that Tuesday, my feet and back hurt a lot. I was hungry, tired, but happy. The idea that our marriage was coming was beginning to catch up with me, providing a slight chill in my belly every time the image of Lauren and I officialized our relationship at once. ***
