Take Me To Your Heart

Some Confessions

It occurs to me one evening as I sit next to Ferit on our bed, scowling at a spreadsheet that insists on mocking me, that I might love my husband.

The thought floats in my head unannounced and naturally leaves me fairly rattled as, if true, it would reduce everything I had previously thought I knew to ash. I was a woman of theories, with an unfailing ability to discern fanciful notions from reality. And here I was, entertaining the idea that I might be in love with a man I only started dating a few days ago.

It had to be the proximity, right? Playing house all the time must have confused my emotions. Or grief? Could this be chalked up to grief?

But, rather than confront my feelings or think about why I found them so terrifying, I decide it is space that I need and choose to flee. When I leave Ferit and Bulut to cook dinner for my sister the next night, my boys both seem a little sad.

At least one of them tries to hide their pouting.

I don't let their adorableness stop me. I am eager for some sister time, though I know visiting Laila will be farthest thing from relaxing. She is embroiled in wedding planning, impatient for my opinions. I bring a bottle of wine along with my bag of groceries, knowing I'll need alcohol's assistance if I'm expected to discuss floral arrangements with any level of seriousness.

When I arrive, Laila wastes little time in pulling out her thick wedding binder. I laugh at her, perpetually confused about how we turned out to be such different people. But, as always, I entertain her nonsense. It is not in me to deny my baby sister anything.

"So." I begin, pulling out my ingredients and setting up on her kitchen counter. "How many guests are we thinking?"

I brace myself for the astronomical number I'm sure is coming. Between Laila and her fiancé, the family invites alone are likely going to be at least 100. She grimaces a little, reluctant to answer.

"Well...." She trails off stalling. I raise an eyebrow at her, already mentally preparing my lecture. "Okay, don't be mad! But, we think it has to be at least 300."

I let out a quick breath. Three hundred people. "Good lord, Laila. How do you even know that many people?"

She shrugs, doing her best impression of an innocent child. Batting her eyelashes had always worked on her father, and now she levels that weapon at me whenever she wants my approval.

"And who the hell is paying for that?" I add, refusing to melt.

She smirks a little guiltily, but not enough to change her mind. "I know, didi." She cajoles, pretending to be a reasonable person. "But, our family is so big. And we still want friends there. I mean I just have no idea how to cut it down!"

I roll my eyes. Sometimes Laila is so practical, but I can tell this wedding is not going to be one of those times.

"Is there going to be any attempt to stick to a budget?" I ask her with mock sincerity. The answer is obviously no.

She just smiles like she's getting away with a crime and continues onto the next item on her agenda. "Okay, so I've looked at a few options for dresses. I was inspired by watching you and Yasmin and I think I actually want something like this but customized with some additional embroidery." She tells me, showing me a photo of a stunning, elaborate dress with a train that looks a mile long.

I rub my forehead, already overcome by this whole process. Maybe I could convince Yasmin to adopt Laila for the duration of the wedding planning. "It's beautiful, Laila. So beautiful, I won't even ask how much it costs." I say tiredly, opening my bottle of wine. It was a mistake to have waited this long.