Coming Home (English Version)

34. Choose

Layla

Throughout the rushed planning, this wedding kept getting bigger and bigger, like a snowball. Last time I looked at the guests list I realised I didn't know half of the people in it, but it was one of the many things I had to let go of because it was humanly impossible to try to control everything. 

The signing of the contract was very nice and intimate, mama was there and I think she has finally come to accept my relationship with Hamdan, although my interactions with her are nowhere near what they were before. At the end of the day I think she should be happy that Hamdan was finally willing to get married.

I suppose I could have left it at the signing of the contract and skip tonight's extravaganza. Yes, it has been fun and everything is gorgeous, but it's also a lot of stress and pressure. Last night I had a dream in which I tripped on my dress and fell flat on my face in front of everyone, I couldn't get any more sleep afterwards. That's probably the reason why I keep drifting off while Reem sweeps my face with her brushes. At first, she didn't want to do my makeup, she thought she was not up for the task when in reality Reem is way more talented than what she gives herself credit for. Besides, she has done my makeup before and I love the way she makes me look.

"Open your eyes," Reem tells me.

She takes a step back, examines my face and asks me to close them again. I hear a knock on the door and the voice of Michael, the designer of my dress, fades in.

"Are we ready for the dress?" He wonders.

"Yes," Reem replies. "I'm almost done."

She puts the final touches on me and I can turn around on my chair just in time to see the dress coming through the double doors of the hotel suite. Krisha, Maryam, Reem and the hairdresser gasp at the same time and I keep thinking how am I going to get in there. Due to the rush, I basically tried on the dress by parts for every fitting, so this will be my first time putting the whole thing on. I can count four girls behind Michael carrying the train of the dress. The lace, the crystals and embroidery make it look heavy but Michael promised me it won't be; you will float in it, is what he said.

One of his assistants takes his place and Michael turns around and snaps his fingers two times. "Okay, people, I need your full attention!" He says with exaggerated gestures.

He has such a great spirit. My appointments with him were one of my favorite parts during this planning. I think I have seen him without shades only once and just for a few seconds, his hair is always slicked back and his all black outfits contrast with the colors of his bridal creations.

"We are going to lift the dress up so our beautiful bride can get underneath it and put it on," he explains. "Bring on the ladders!"

Ladders?

Michael turns to me. "Are all of your undergarments in place?"

I look down at the silky robe I'm wearing. "Uh... yes."

"Do you need to use the restroom?" He continues. "Because once you're wearing that..."

"I just went, I'm fine," I assure him.

"Perfect, put your shoes on and take the robe off. And don't worry, I promise not to look," he lifts his shades briefly and winks at me playfully.

More girls come in with two-step ladders, placing them around the dress. I slip my shoes on and prepare to take the robe off.

"Come on, come on!" Michael calls Reem, Krisha and Maryam. "We need all the help we can get here!"

Once I leave the robe on the chair, I'm left wearing the bridal bodysuit I will be using under the dress. It almost looks like a one-piece bathing suit, so I'm not that uncomfortable looking like this in front of all these people. Like an orchestra director, Michael commands the lifting of the dress and I bend down to go underneath it, protecting my hair at all times. This must be what being inside of an igloo looks like. I search for my exit in the middle of the white sea above me and resurface while extending my arms over my head.