He’s cracking jokes. He’s okay. And I feel like all is right with the world.
But the next morning, I wake up alone. Shawn’s side of the bed is cold, so I know he’s been gone a while. I find some underwear, a tee shirt and jeans, and throw them on to go find him.
Digging through my suitcase, I realize that I forgot to unpack last night. I pull my favorite sundress out and it’s a little wrinkled. I was hoping to be able to wear it for our little wedding ceremony later.
I sigh out, slightly disappointed. I mean, it’s not a super formal ceremony. Just Shawn and me and the guys in the band and their significant others.
It’s fine. My dress can be a little wrinkled, I guess.
I feel the tears coming, and I fight them back. God, this stupid.
Sure I want to look a certain way and I want Shawn to look at me walking down the aisle and get a little choked up.
But, mostly… I want to really feel married. Like, I want to feel like something in our relationship has changed.
Not like I feel right now.
I take a shower, hanging my sundress in the bathroom and letting the steam work out the wrinkles.
Freshly showered, I wrap myself in a towel and head into the bedroom.
“What the hell happened in here?” I ask, gasping.
Pink. Everywhere.
Pink lace, pink taffeta, pink organza. Every cut, style, and shape of pink wedding dress is strewn around the room.
And in the middle of it all is Cora, holding up one of the dresses.
“You did this?” I ask her.
“Actually, Shawn did,” she says. “Well, Shawn’s credit card did.”
“What’s going on?”
“You mentioned wanting a pink wedding dress and Shawn was trying to figure out which one you were looking for,” she starts. “I even helped him snoop around on your laptop. Sorry.”
She wrinkles her nose as she apologizes.
“But we couldn’t find ‘the one,’ so I told him your size, and he bought every pink dress he saw on every website in your search history.”
“Wow,” I say, looking around.
“Well, come on,” Cora says. “Pick one and let’s start trying stuff on. There’s a hairstylist coming in at three and then I’ll do your makeup.”
“Where’s Shawn?” I ask.
“He’s checking on about a million other things right now,” she says.
“What kind of things? It’s just a simple, little wedding.”
Cora smirks and raises an eyebrow. Clearly, I have no idea what I’m in for today.
“Come on,” she says, slyly. “You’re getting married.”
Nine
Shawn
It takes a lot to put an entire wedding together in less than a week and keep the entire thing a secret from your wife.
But just as the sun is setting over the lake, I stand on the packed sand, waiting for my bride. I have on a white dress shirt and grey slacks. Nothing like the tuxedo I wore in the church. I’m not standing on an altar next to any sort of officiant.
Aya and I don’t need anyone pronouncing us married or giving us permission to be together.
Jack, wearing a black dress shirt and dark pants, even on the beach, starts playing guitar. It’s cheesy, but whatever. I want my wife to be able to have her grand entrance.
Ian and Nikki walk down path towards me, arm in arm, leading the impromptu procession. He kisses his little sister’s cheek before she takes a spot next to Jack.
Then Dylan and Jane follow. They’re all smiles too. Dylan, I’m sure, is wondering how long he’ll wait to propose to his girlfriend and have a wedding of his own. Jane smooths her deep red hair over her shoulder and smiles at me.
Finally, I see Aya, arm-in-arm with Cora. I suppose it’s fitting that Cora gives her away since she’s kind of the reason that we met.
I flash back the moment I first saw her, which is actually before we first officially met. I was in the restroom, on the phone with my ex-girlfriend, getting my heart smashed for the hundredth time, and I knew that there was someone awkwardly hiding out in the stall, trying not to get caught.
All I could see was long, blue hair.
We had a rocky start, but it’s all been worth it.
The good times, the tears, the moment when I almost let her walk out of my life forever, and then finally, when I sent her away and could only hope that she’d come back to me… it’s all been worth it.
“Shawn?” Aya asks, softly.
I realize that I’ve been spacing out and not fully taking in this moment.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her.
“You like?”
She’s indicating her dress, which has got kind of a vintage feel to it. It’s strapless and it’s a pretty, peachy-pink color. She looks so happy in it.
“It’s you,” I tell her. “It’s so perfect.”
“Thank you for this,” she whispers.
I take her hand in mine and squeeze it. Everyone else finds their places, surrounding us.
“Thank you, everybody. We’re so happy you’re here,” I say to our six guests. “What we’re doing here today is a little unconventional. And since you’ve all sat through one of our weddings before, I think we’re going to keep this short and sweet.”
Mostly because I want to get through the dinner I have planned for us and get my wife back to our room as soon as humanly possible.
“Aya, since the moment we met, life with you has been an adventure,” I start.
I’m pretty sure everyone can hear, but I don’t really care to project. These words are for my wife.
“We met and suddenly, everything I saw was a whirlwind of blue hair and tattoos and wild energy. I knew right from the beginning, that I’d met someone special.”
Aya laughs and takes my hand. Her hair flutters around her shoulders like a princess in a movie.
“After the first night together, I knew I wanted more,” I tell her. Maybe a little too much information for those surrounding us, but I don’t care. “From our first official date, I was positive I could fall in love with you.”
I think back to meeting Aya in that old bar, having a few drinks and her telling me about her mom and her dancing. Everything about her was unexpected, and I was so excited to know more.
“And now seeing you here in this dress, I see my future. And it’s going to be beautiful.” My voice is barely a whisper.
I lean in to kiss her, but she stops me.
“Hey, I have to talk first,” she teases. “Then… that. A lot of that.”
I nod. The others laugh.
“Shawn…” Her voice is soft. Kind of nervous. “I don’t want to rehash too much to the past, but before I met you, I didn’t think I’d ever trust a man again.”
I take her hand and kiss her knuckles, knowing what she’s talking about. She’d had an ex-boyfriend who betrayed her in one of the worst possible ways. I still get angry when I think about what he did to her.
“I knew I was attracted to you,” she says. “And I knew you were gorgeous and famous and cool and…” She takes a deep breath. “But I didn’t know the man you were after the spotlight faded and you stepped off the stage. I didn’t know how kind you were or how big your heart was.”