Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Chapter Eleven
Eva
“Knock, knock, knock.” I hear as the door to the bridal suite opens. I’m sitting down in one of the plush chairs, wearing a white satin robe that says Bride on it. The room is filled with vases and vases of roses. The woman behind me is curling my hair, as I’m drinking my second glass of champagne. I’m trying not to think about the fact that my chest feels weird. I’m trying not to think about how my stomach flips and flops when anyone gushes when they come in the room, excited about me getting married. I’m trying not to think about the fact that by the end of the night, I’m going to be married to Levi. “I come with gifts.” I look over to see Stefano’s mom, Vivienne, come in the room with two bags in her hands.
“What?” I ask as she walks in. She’s wearing an ice-blue dress that matches her eyes perfectly. It’s satin and tight all the way down to the floor, with little cap sleeves.
“Well, it’s your wedding day.” I look at her, knowing full well that she knows this isn’t a real wedding. I know this because yesterday we sat down with Mark to explain what was going on. We did it at Luke’s to make sure everyone kept their voices at a reasonable level. I was more nervous telling Mark than anyone else. He’s been like a father figure to me, and I didn’t want to let him down. I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve. I don’t tell people my problems. I deal with it and move on, so having to sit down and tell him what was going on was a lot for me. It really helped that Levi was there holding my hand. He’s been holding my hand since I got the call about Lisa. Even when I asked him to marry me and he thought I was joking, in the end I knew he would agree to it.
“It’s my fake wedding day,” I mumble to her and she just smiles at me.
“Well, whatever it is,” she says, her French accent very apparent right then and there. I don’t know the whole story, but I know she came here when she was in college from France and fell in love with New York, so she stayed. From the little bits and pieces here and there, I think she’s even related to royalty back in Paris. “I wanted you to have a couple of things.”
“A couple of things?” I remark, putting down the empty glass of champagne and hoping it gets topped up sooner than later to help me with all the nerves.
“They are just little things,” she assures me, handing me the first bag, “so you know we support you.”
“I don’t know what to say.” I put the bag on my lap and pull out the white tissue paper before pulling out a brown box. I place the bag on the floor before opening the box and seeing a silk handkerchief in the middle of it. I take it out, seeing it’s got lace on the outside of the silk. In the middle of the silk is Levi & Eva with the date.
“It’s to help dab your tears away,” she explains. “It will look nicer in pictures than a tissue.”
My eyes get suddenly so dry they hurt to blink, or maybe they are filled with tears and I’m ignoring it all. This little secret wedding has turned into a party for thirty. It went from just the two of us with two witnesses to Stefano’s parents. Then I couldn’t leave the sisters out of it, so I invited them also. Needless to say, it isn’t going to be just the four of us. This morning when I woke up in the honeymoon suite I was staying in, I kept thinking to myself we should have just gone to Vegas. “This is so thoughtful,” I tell Vivienne, trying not to ruin my makeup with tears.
“It was nothing; I wish I had enough time to do more.”
“It’s not supposed to be that big of a deal,” I remind her as she hands me the next bag.
“This,” she says, “is from the Dimitris family.”
“Good God.” The sting goes from my eyes right to my nose. “This is really too much,” I tell her, “like, this is just for show.”
“Regardless,” she goes on, “it’s for you and you can pass it along to Cici when it’s her turn.” I take the box out of the bag and the little box should tell me I shouldn’t take this gift. However, I know if I fight it, they will start to lay on the guilt. “Your father would have wanted you to have this.” And there it is—the guilt—as I open the box and see diamond earrings. “They match the outfit perfectly.”