Cruel Sanctuary

Chapter 15

Peter Greene and Sarah Greene.

I keep having the same recurring dream. The same one that I experienced months ago of the wedding: the hooded groom, my shock, the same dream every night. Emma wonders whether my mind is telling me to cancel the wedding but personally? I refuse to accept that my subconscious self is contemplating putting myself before my family and questioning the whole 'deal' we have going on with the Anstey's. However, today is an important day for us: Wednesday, the day we meet Angel Robertson - our wedding planner.

Yesterday was productive and I'm glad to finally admit that I feel much more secure about the wedding being a success following all the shopping we did. Today, on the other hand, is out of my control. I have no idea what to expect, I don't know who Angel is, I don't know what we are going to do. I'm concluding that it's all a bit of a mystery for Owen and me which is why this morning is pure chaos.

In the pristine kitchen, I hover over the hob which cooks scrambled eggs for breakfast, "What're we doing today, do you reckon?" Owen asks me, yawning as I separate our eggs into two bowls and grate the cheese onto it.

Shrugging, I try not to make a mess for when Angel arrives, "I'm really not sure. Probably just picking out themes," I reply to him, sliding his bowl towards him with a fork and then sitting myself down beside him with my food, "There's no possible way that we'll get all the planning done in a day."

With a flick of his eyebrows, he thanks me for the food, "Oh," He says, taking a bite out of his breakfast and smiling at the taste, "I'm not gonna be much help. I might just leave it up to you and catch up on schoolwork."

Outraged by his borderline sexist suggestion, I glare profusely at him from my peripheral and he freezes, "I know you won't be much help, which is why I've invited Emma to help us. She doesn't mind skipping school, obviously, and she's very inventive and creative. However, you're not leaving me in this all by myself. You'll sit with us and approve or disapprove our ideas," I tell him to which he gives a defeatist sigh and nods.

Taking one last bite of his food, he slides his empty bowl away from him, "Fine but once this woman is gone, I want to finish my schoolwork; the pressure's getting to me," He exclaims dramatically and I chuckle, "Yeah, yeah, I'm going to drop in at home to see Jack after his playdate with Everleigh," I conclude and then grab both of our empty bowls and place them in the dishwasher, "Right, let's get dressed."

***

We have decided that I am to wear some black ripped jeans with a plain cream cotton jumper tucked in and a brown belt (the outfit Owen chose for me because he says it matches his style). Owen barged into my bedroom whilst I was brushing my teeth and commanded that I wore that outfit so that our styles were matching. I'm not in the mood to argue, so I obliged.

Whilst I'm spraying myself with my favourite perfume, the buzzer sounds from reception and I hear Owen demand that Angel be sent up, so I hurry myself up and fly down the stairs, joining Owen only moments before Angel gets up to our floor.

"Be polite," I command to Owen, teeth gritted in an unwavering smile, when I hear the lift approach and the doors open. As soon as the door opens, Owen grabs my hand, attempting to be a perfect couple, "Welcome, Angel!" I greet her when she steps out with many briefcases and she smiles and embraces me.

"Hello, you must be Skylar. And this is Owen, I presume?" She replies in a strong French accent and we both nod, "It's a pleasure to meet you both."

"The pleasure is ours," Owen insists and she beams at us, clapping her hands together sharply as both of us straighten our posture, the intensity of Angel becoming a stick down our spines, "You guys have had quite the journey, no? A wedding in under two months! That's no problem for us, we will have it all ready in no time, I promise," She fills us in with a warm grin, her bright pink lipstick looking no less than perfect.