Back then I had gripped his sleeve, my eyes red-rimmed.
"Stanley, that's our wedding. Can you think about how I feel for once? Are you marrying me, or your childhood friend?"
The smile faded from his face. "This wedding only happens once. I'm not going to ignore their feelings just for you."
"Majority rules, Nora. Don't be unreasonable."
Because Brenna had said the longer a custom piece took, the better, the suit had ended up taking a full year to make.
And then, at the end of it, she'd said it hadn't turned out the way she'd pictured.
So in the end Stanley's groom's suit came off the rack at a suit shop, in the color and style Brenna picked.
I just never expected this wedding to be pushed back again because she didn't like the roses.
Brenna kept pulling at the rose petals, the bright red pieces dropping all over the floor, crushed under her feet as she moved.
I couldn't help myself. "The roses were delivered fresh first thing this morning, still with the dew on them. Stop pulling at them."
Bored, she tossed the rose in her hand aside and looked at Stanley with a mocking smile.
"Stanley, your girlfriend is so precious about everything. It's just one rose. So petty."
"Forget it, forget it. If you two want these tacky, cheap-looking red roses, then keep them. My mistake for sticking my nose in."
Stanley's friends exchanged glances and spoke up, put out.
"Stanley, your girlfriend really is a little petty. It's only some roses. Is it worth it?"
"Right, we think Brenna's suggestion is good too. Roses really are pretty tacky."
"Well, it's your wedding anyway. Do whatever you want."
They jostled their way out, knocking down a whole row of roses on either side as they went.
Stanley let go of my shoulder, his face darkening.
"Nora, it's just some roses. Was it worth making me lose face in front of my friends? Come apologize to them with me."
I dodged the hand he reached out. "I won't."
He saw how firm I was.
Stanley laughed in anger. "Fine. Fine, Nora. In that case, the wedding is postponed indefinitely. Whenever you apologize to them, that's when we hold it."
I looked at his furious, angry face.
And I couldn't help remembering how he'd once knelt to propose to me, swearing up and down that he'd give me a wedding I'd never forget.
How he'd sat with me and carefully picked out our wedding photos, debating which studio did the best work.
I said I loved the seaside, so he chartered a plane and took me there to shoot.
I said I wanted him to carry me on his back, so he carried me for the pictures.
Even the photographer said real couples always came out looking the most natural in their wedding photos.
All of it stopped the moment Brenna came back to the country.
Brenna was his childhood friend, the girl he'd grown up beside, the one he'd once confessed to and been turned down by.
The day she came home, it poured. Stanley had promised to come pick me up, and I waited until the sky was fully dark before I saw the post about him going to meet Brenna at the airport and throwing her a welcome dinner.
We'd made plans to go camping that weekend, but because Brenna said she liked sunrises, we climbed a mountain instead.
At the weekend dinner, I can't eat spicy food and stick to clear broth and mushrooms, but because Brenna liked it, he picked nothing but the fiery hot pot base.
Once I was rushing to get documents to a client, couldn't get a car, and asked Stanley to drive me. But because Brenna had broken up with her boyfriend and was upset, he took her out for a drive instead.
I used to naively believe the one who arrived out of nowhere could beat the childhood sweetheart.
But looking at it now, I'd lost completely.
"There's no need to postpone it. Let's just call off the wedding."
