Lamborghini | Tony Stark

SIXTY FOUR - WEDDING PLANS

"What is it? You love tiramisu so it can't be the food, what's wrong?"

Sasha and Tony had been in Las Vegas for just under seventy two hours and in that time, they'd drank more champagne than they'd ever managed before while baking beneath the hot sun and occasionally cooling down in the pool.

Tony had booked the two of them in for a couples massage earlier that day after a late lunch in the hotel, both of them leaving the spa with hazy eyes and cleansed bodies, feeling one thousand times better than they had done before.

Sasha liked being on vacation with Tony. Although he was rarely seen without a pair of sunglasses on, Sasha enjoyed watching him order a beer at the bar in red swim shorts and shades to match, feeling like a teenage girl with a crush whenever he walked back over to her with water dripping from his abs after taking a dip in the pool.

Things felt different being away from New York and the couple had noticed. Things were easy, plain sailing without any stress. Spending time with each other without a world full of distractions and worry made an incredible amount of difference to how happy they both felt, almost feeling as though they'd both fallen in love again for the first time after seeing their person in a new environment.

While Sasha was drying her hair that evening, however, she'd received a message from the florist that was managing the flowers for their wedding, instantly breaking the stress-free bubble that Las Vegas had cocooned the two of them in since they'd arrived.

"It's nothing," Sasha shook her head, dipping her spoon into the corner of the tiramisu that her and Tony were sharing for dessert that night.

"Don't give me that," Tony scoffed, taking a mouthful for himself before washing it down with wine, "We're way past this, just talk to me. Have I said something stupid?"

"No, no, not at all. It's not you, Tony."

"Then what is it?"

Tony had sensed something was off with Sasha since they'd left their hotel room for dinner. She'd been dreamily happy the entire day, the entire trip, though it was almost as if she went into the shower to wash her hair in one mood and came out in another, leaving Tony clueless as to what could've happened in such a short space of time.

Sasha's phone buzzed on the table and she picked it up, sighing to herself as she saw another message from a caterer about the wedding. There were fifteen unread texts and emails from companies handling different aspects of the wedding, and Sasha couldn't bring herself to respond to a single one.

She spun her phone around and pushed it across the table to Tony. He picked it up, eyes narrowed as he scrolled down the list of unopened emails sat in her inbox.

"What, you don't want the red roses anymore? You want white like we originally said? Or do you not want the entrées to be served at the wedding until after-"

"It's the wedding, Tony. That's what's wrong."

Sasha spat her words out like she couldn't wait to say them fast enough, like they were poison on her lips. Tony put the phone down and looked across the table at her, though she avoided his gaze with her eyes diverted at the champagne fizzing in her glass, fingers wrapped delicately around the stem.

"Y-you don't want to get married?"

The softness in Tony's voice almost reduced Sasha to tears, hating the way his disappointment cut through her heart like a sharpened blade. He sounded lost, broken at the question he was forced to ask, a shred of hope lingering in his words that he'd be told he was wrong.

And he was wrong.

"I want to get married, I do," Sasha said, forcing herself to look up at Tony despite knowing the way his brown eyes would be melting with concern, "But the wedding, all this planning, there's so much to do and I don't even know if I want to do any of it. I know it's stupid but I just don't feel excited. And that's not because I'm not excited to marry you, because I am, I just feel so overwhelmed by it all."