Which was one reason why I hadn’t settled down. I wanted that. Maybe it was too much to ask for, to be seen and treated like a queen, for everyone to recognize how my man adored me, but maybe it also didn’t seem like too much to ask for. Sweeping, epic.

Once I’d dressed, which was easy in a strapless outfit without messing up my hair and makeup, I checked the time to realize I was running late. My adrenaline kicked in. I wasn’t sure why; not as if I was part of the wedding or had even been cordially invited. But I wanted to see Sam and April’s wedding, or maybe just see Sunny in his suit again. And that was perhaps the only thing keeping my social anxiety at bay.

“Why are you smiling?” Diya asked in a singsong voice when I’d emerged from my room fully dressed with purse and sandals in hand.

“Huh? Oh, am I?”

Leilani whistled. Warmth tinged my neck. Already armed with her phone for pictures, she strutted around me. “Girl. This entire ensemble is gorgeous.”

“I know, I know…I don’t even look like me.”

I shrugged, twisting back and forth at the waist and feeling ever more like a princess. I knew why I didn’t get fancy more often—thinking about the time and skill involved was exhausting—but also, where would I go? To my desk in the corner of my living room?

Looking down at my dress, practically startled by how in my face my plump breasts were, I imagined wearing this dress to work meetings. Wouldn’t that be fun? Who, alongside myself, would be distracted by this massively effective, strapless push-up bra?

As if this were prom, both Leilani (for her salon’s social media) and Diya snapped pictures of me. My sister fiddled with her phone when the familiar FaceTime chime sounded.

“Hah, she’s right here,” Diya said, turning the screen to me.

I sighed, slouching as my parents gushed over me.

Mummie was misty-eyed and cooing, “So beautiful, beta! What a nice, sexy dress, huh? Get Sunny’s attention in a second.”

“Oh, lord…” I muttered.

“Easy to take off?”

“Mummie!” I cried, almost slapping a palm over my mouth but stopping short because I wasn’t going to ruin this meticulous makeup.

“No one is undressing my daughter!” Papa bellowed in the background. “Where’s my champal?”

Oh goodness. My father was ready to beat Sunny with his sandal.

“I’m joking. I’m joking!” she said to Papa, but then turned to me as Diya stepped closer, whispering with a wink, “He’s handsome, no? Don’t get too wild. Oh! Glitter eyes. And what beautiful lipstick and hair. Who did this?”

“You can’t believe I did this?” I asked, planting a hand on my hip as Diya lowered the camera and then brought it back up so Mummie got a full view of me.

Mummie said, “It looks like professional work.”

Leilani gave a thumbs-up when Diya directed the camera at her, announcing, “The master artist. Mummie, you remember Leilani? Kimo’s cousin who owns the fancy salon you went to?”

And then my mother proceeded to praise Leilani over her work. It was very good work, and for her to take my dull, boring self and turn me into a princess was no easy feat. But I was running late.

“I have to go! They’re going to start before I get there! Thanks for everything!” I called back from the front door, slipping into the sandals, and making a mental note to electronically send Leilani a tip or drop by her salon with a tip and treats.

“We won’t be here tonight!” Diya shouted after me.

The walk to the venue wasn’t terribly far, even in dressy sandals. Utilizing concrete sidewalks most of the way helped. With the heat and humidity, I slowed down and walked in the shade wherever possible, beneath towering palm trees and flowering trees alike. There was no reason to sweat and ruin any part of my look, and if I was late, then late I would be. No one would focus on me.

When I walked through the lobby, I paused, throwing my head back to enjoy the chilled air before getting a complimentary water and following the gorgeous sign displays leading to the wedding. I was welcomed by the scent of fresh flowers and lingering perfumes as I turned the corner and wandered into a semi-open room full of people chatting and laughing and taking pictures. Light music hummed in the background.

Oh. There were more people than I’d expected. A pall of heaviness swept down my body, gathering at my legs and turning them into stone, telling me they didn’t want to walk into this.

“Oh! Sorry!” Sejal had appeared from nowhere and nearly doused my dress with water.

I jumped back just in time. From the corner of my eye, staff members hurried to bring something to clean the floor. “I’m fine.”

She gave a nervous laugh, her eyes darting across my chest and down my dress. Sejal looked lovely in a pink and beige dress. Suddenly, I felt way overdone. “I have to get back to the bride. Again, so sorry. Um, beautiful dress.”

It took a second to realize what I’d done. I’d worn white to an American wedding. Crap. It wasn’t uncommon for guests at Indian weddings to wear their own wedding outfits again, much less whichever color…but what was the appropriate etiquette here? Maybe if Diya and Leilani hadn’t noticed, it wasn’t a big deal?

“Love the hair,” Sejal added.

“Hmm.”

And off she went.

I shook off the interaction, but couldn’t help wondering if she’d meant anything by her words, or had meant to get water on my dress.

Well, there was no turning back now. I mean, I could and only Sunny would notice. Otherwise, my absence wouldn’t make a difference. I willed my deadened legs to move, my brain to shut off, and I swallowed my nerves and went ahead. For some reason, I didn’t want to disappoint Sunny.

The archway stage was covered in red roses and white lilies, immediately capturing my eye. So breathtaking. Everything from the white bow chair coverings to the vases of flowers to the ribbons cutting the aisles off from the walkway to the stage set a romantic ambience. When the breeze snaked through, it sent the petals on the walkway scattering.

The walkway meant for the wedding party and the bride.

The walkway where I was standing, only a few steps away from disturbing it if I didn’t move to the side.

The walkway where I looked up from the floating pink and white petals and realized so many people were watching me. Whispering, smiling, wondering.

I sucked in a breath, forgetting that large breaths probably re-amped my already ample bosoms, and wrung my fingers together at my lap. So much attention, like they could tell I didn’t belong, that I was a walking lie literally wrapped in a pretty bow.

As I decided which side to sit on, not that it really mattered as long as I sat in the back, my eyes fluttered over onlookers, following them down a line until my gaze landed on the groomsmen.

My breath caught in my throat when Sunny appeared in the crowd. He was talking to Aamar and Sam and a couple of others when Aamar cocked his chin toward me. Sunny’s gaze followed. He was adjusting his tie and I’d have to redo it if he kept messing with it. The wind had blown some of his hair astray, but it looked intended and perfect. We hadn’t been separated for long, but I’d almost forgotten how handsome he was in a suit and in that tie, which I now desperately wanted to undo.

I shook the thought from my head. Absurdity! No, brain! Don’t go there! This was all an act, remember? To end very soon.

The cut of Sunny’s jaw tightened. His eyes, even from this distance, bore into mine. That little wrinkle in between his brows appeared, as if he were scowling, but his look was as far from a scowl as it could be. A look of intensity, of longing, of undiluted need.

My lungs burned right along with my skin.

Sunny looked at me the way Kimo looked at Diya, but with a level of yearning that probably shouldn’t be witnessed in public. Was I reading too much into this? He was probably trying to send me a telepathic signal to get off the walkway. Yet I couldn’t look away. We seemed to be tethered and neither of us was able to break off.

I was still acutely aware of those staring at me. Part of me wanted to back away and get out of this room of strangers engrossed in this lie we’d been spinning. Part of me wanted to go straight to Sunny and…well, I wasn’t sure what.

Kiss him. You want to kiss him.

The truth bubbled up the back of my thoughts, the declaration I’d been trying to stave off and yet was so achingly aware of.