Love Of Lust

Chapter Nine

Becky's POV

Ray had to get back to work, so all four of us visited the art gallery on Monday morning, and then we bid them goodbye.

Zara had been right - it was gorgeous, with a massive hall of historical sculptures and statues that they recommended for the ceremony.

They were surprised when Riad said he wanted to book it "as soon as possible," but they were able to get us a date in a month.

He put down a deposit, but he wouldn't let me look at the full quote. Zara left me with pages and pages of notes.

Riad had already put Emma on the task of finding me a dress, and I'd picked a bakery whose cake was both beautiful and edible. Even with all of the preparations that were underway, the whole thing still didn't quite feel like real life. But I was sure I would adjust to it.

Eventually. I put in my last day of work on Friday, and Riad asked me over lunch if I wanted him to hire a moving service. As usual, he was ten steps ahead.

In the flurry of wedding preparations, I forgot that I'd also be expected to move in with him immediately afterwards.

"No, I'm fine," I said. "I don't really like strangers touching my stuff."

"At least let me come over and help you pack." He sounded genuinely concerned.

"All right, sure. Thanks." He wasn't a stranger, after all. He was my fiancé. A thought occurred to me.

"Hey, are we like...going to go on a honeymoon, or something?" The corner of his mouth quirked up into a secretive smile.

"Just leave that to me," he said. - Between shoving all of my worldly belongings into boxes and returning vendors' phone calls, the next few weeks went by in a blur.

I finally heard back from Emma, sounding almost breathlessly excited, telling me she had the perfect dress. She refused to text me a photo, insisting that I see it in person first. So I came by as quickly as I could, in the car that still didn't feel quite like mine, feeling intensely awkward as I parked it in front of the boutique. It was hardly nice enough to be conspicuous, but it was so far from anything I'd ever driven that I couldn't get used to it. Emma looked like she was about to go nuclear from happiness.

"Come on, come on!" She put her arm around my shoulders and herded me into the dressing rooms as soon as I stepped through the door.
"I've got it hiding back here, I didn't want anyone else asking about it. And God forbid Riad should drop in and see it."

"I'm not superstitious," I said.

"Oh, honey." She shook her head at me. "Everyone is superstitious when it comes to weddings. You might as well get on board." I rolled my eyes, but she was too elated to notice.

"Look at it!" The dress was hanging up in front of me. It was sleek and elegant, without all the taffeta and usual trappings of a typical wedding dress. Yet, at the same time, I felt I would be recognizable as a bride when I put it on.
It was a lovely off white color, with a lovely lace design at the top, including a sash around the waist.

"I figured something short would be best for a summer wedding," Emma said. "So? Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful," I said, reaching out to feel the material. "I just...none of this feels real to me yet, you know?"

"I know," she said. "Come on. I can't wait to see it on you." She helped me into it, having me step into a pair of complementing shoes after she zipped me up. I stared at myself. This was what I'd be married in. Emma gasped. She looked more emotional about this than I felt.