“Because…” I fumbled, feeling so unsure that it almost made me sick. “I don’t want to let them down. They have such high hopes for me, and it means so much to them. Besides, I’ve always done what they wanted. What kind of life would I have if I stopped doing that?”
“You’d have a life that was your own, and not theirs,” Gray replied. “It’s not your job to be who your parents want you to be or do everything they want you to do. It’s your life and you get to do what you want with it. I think you should get to be happy. And honestly, if you were truly happy, I think your parents would come around. I know they’re overbearing but they’ve just got a skewed view of things and you’ve gotta admit, man, you’ve enabled that skewed view by never standing up to them all this time. You’ve let them think it’s okay to rule over you.”
I considered that. Honestly, there was a part of me that wondered if I even deserved to be happy. Not that I’d done anything wrong, exactly…just that a part of me that had been raised to make my parents happy, upset at the idea of doing anything that went against them. Why should I put my own happiness in front of theirs when they’d done so much for me?
On the other hand, much of what my parents had done for me hadn’t been what I’d wanted them to do. It had been what they’d wanted for me, and I’d just never argued with them. They controlled my life. Nothing of my life was my own.
Didn’t I deserve to live my own life? Didn’t I deserve to take ownership of that?
I wanted Laura, more than anything. But could I truly defy my parents for her?
14
Laura
Cade and Della nodded along as I sat in my office with them, going over aspects of the ceremony. Did they want a DJ or a band, did they want a priest or another officiant, these sorts of things.
Most couples had a strong opinion on certain things, like the officiant, but would be lost about other things they hadn’t thought about, like whether they wanted a live band or a DJ (or a combination, like a live band to start with for the couple and family dances and then move on to a DJ for when everyone was on the dance floor tipsy and partying).
Della and Cade didn’t seem to have any opinions. I understood now why Cade didn’t really have any, but I would have thought that Della would have a few. Even if she wasn’t in love with Cade—as he claimed—surely, she would still have some opinions about her wedding day, a day that was supposed to be all about her.
We were halfway through the meeting, and I really didn’t know what to do. I felt like I was giving them my opinion and they were going along with it. It would’ve been great if this was my wedding, but it wasn’t. It was theirs.
Cade’s phone rang and I nearly sighed in relief. He grimaced, pulling it out, and shot me an apologetic look. “I’ll just take this really quickly, sorry Laura.”
“No problem,” I assured him.
Cade left the ro
om to take the call, leaving me alone with Della.
Well, there was nothing but to keep seeing what opinions I could get from her. I was nervous to be alone with her, I will admit that. She was beautiful, rich and intimidating. She exuded an air of elegance that made me worry that I was…inferior. How could Cade want me and not her when she was right in front of him? It baffled me. I hadn’t felt this insecure in years.
It was a clear sign of how much Cade messed with my heart and how much I was still hung up on him, even if I didn’t want to be, that this woman could make me feel unsure about myself. Cade didn’t even want Della, or so he’d said, and I couldn’t quite keep a check on my emotions.
“So, Della,” I said, continuing our conversation. “What do you think about a live band? Any preference of the genre? Swing band, country….”
Della stared out the window. She seemed lost in a reverie.
“Della?” I repeated.
She started, like I’d startled her, and turned to face me. “I’m…sorry, I’m sorry. I just feel very overwhelmed by all the choices. I’m sure whatever you think is best or whatever Cade wants will be fine.”
“But it’s not my wedding, Della,” I pointed out gently. “It’s yours. Don’t you want a wedding that has everything you have ever wanted?”
Della gave a small, pained laugh, then looked away from me, out the window again. “I’m sorry. I’m…this isn’t any of your business, I’m sorry….”
To my shock, she began to cry.
She was a very composed and quiet crier. I had the suspicion that Della had to be composed throughout her life, every day. I immediately grabbed some tissues out of my drawer, my heart going out to her, and handed them to her. “It’s okay, whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”
Della began to cry even harder, crying properly now. I wondered if she’d ever let go in front of someone like this, just let herself cry without any concern, about what she looked like or the impression she made on them.
I crouched down in front of her and took her hands. “Della, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, you’re so kind, I just…” Della used the tissue to wipe her eyes. “I’m sorry, I haven’t cried this whole time, I don’t think I realized I needed to cry…the more questions you ask the more lost I feel. I haven’t thought about this wedding at all.”
“You’ve been busy, I’m sure,” I said