Logan and I agreed to have the ceremony in a week and I have spent the last four days looking at fabrics and furniture, getting lessons about the pack, reading and basically running around like a crazy person and honestly I’m ready to drop.
“How are you feeling?” Diana asked as we drove to our next destination, cake tasting.
“If one more person tries to tell me the difference between two practically identical shades of white I will go crazy.”
She let out a bark of laughter, “You’re obviously not having fun,”
“I am,” I defended, “I’m just tired and obviously not fashion inclined. Are you sure you can’t make all the choices for me?”
“Even if I could I wouldn’t,” she said simply, “We just want to see your unique style in everything.”
“Well my unique style is letting someone else do the work.”
“Not happening,” she finished, “Speaking of choices; are you sure about the flower choice?”
“Yes,” I said without even looking at her, “I love them so they’re staying,”