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Thirty-Five
Alexandra
Istood before the mirror, full regalia on display, when the doors opened, and the bitch emerged. I couldn’t have wanted to see anyone less than I did her. However, I also couldn’t have wanted to rub anything in her face more than the way I looked at this moment. I was beautiful, elegant, and confident. My womanly hips were no longer hidden as if shameful. My breasts could justbe. I loved this version of myself—this unapologetic, brave, feminine version of myself. I was a beautiful bride.
Astrid stepped nearer to me, squeezing my hand.
“I would have liked you in white,” Celeste tried to sound sweet. “But this will do.”
“As if you didn’t try to sabotage my dress last night,” I cut back. “Not that it matters. Because the dress was spirited away well before then. I found your lackeys in my wardrobe.”
“It was for the protection of the dress. I know how much it meant to you.”
“Oh really?” Astrid raised an eyebrow.
Celeste ignored Astrid, as per usual. “It is good you have someone to manage you and your… moods, Alexandra. You think things up that are most incredible. A wild imagination.”
“It’s not an imagination,” Ingrid said. “You destroyed her first wedding dress. She’s beautiful, despite you not because of you.”
“She’s fine,” Celeste said. “I wish you were more covered. I am sure the priest will, too.”
“I think he’ll be fine,” I said. “And I will be myself.”
“What is the point of this conversation?” Astrid demanded. “Why are you here, Grand-Mama?”
“Because I came to give her advice,” Celeste said. “Have babies soon. You won’t always be so young. You’re a plain girl. You won’t age well. Have them now when he’s still interested in you. Before his eyes linger on someone else.”
A pang of sadness hit. She didn’t know Rick from Adam. He never gave me any reason to believe he chased another. Even in the beginning, I’d told him anything discrete was fine. Still, he never appeared to care about that. I figured he wanted only me. Now, though, I worried. We never clarified. And we were about to wed. Suddenly, I needed that clarification. And I needed it directly.
“I… there is much time for that,” I fobbed her off.
Still, the rash creeping up my neck gave me away to Astrid. As soon as the old bag left, Astrid asked what was wrong.
“You alright?”
“I’m… I need to talk to Rick,” I said.
“He cannot see you, Alexandra,” Odette insisted. “It’s bad luck.”
“It will be fine. That’s a superstition. Has he left for the church yet?”
“I will check, Your Majesty.” Marta rushed out to speak with the event staff.
“It’s just jitters,” Astrid said. “You look beautiful. It will all be fine.”
“Not if he comes here?—”
“Odie, sush!” Astrid said, annoyed.
Marta returned. “He is still here. About to leave, though.”
“Can you?—”
Before I could finish, Rick came around the corner in his tuxedo. I could have melted into a puddle. He was terribly handsome. I was dying just looking at him.
“What’s the matter?” He stared at me, nervous. “What now?”
“Nothing,” I answered. “Can you all just give us a minute?”
