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The hours before weddings especially the ones that you are involved in, are the most stressful.
Every random person in the world is in your house coming in and out and you have to welcome them in with wide arms. Even if they are crazy psychopaths because how would you know? That psycho could be your second cousin twice removed from Bangladesh.
Luckily for us, my siblings and I were able to flee the house at the crack of dawn to a five-star hotel where the reception is being held, to get ready in a stress-free environment. The Henna party was last night and all of us were exhausted and running on less than two hours of sleep.
Aaliyah finishes her third cup of coffee while I drink my fourth can of diet coke. "Aya, can you get more sugar packets for the coffee?" My sister asks me and I get off the bed putting on my sandals.
I leave the hotel room humming a random tune as I walk downstairs to acquire more sugar packets. As I make it to the breakfast buffet I open my sweater pocket and dump the whole container, my sweater feeling uneven.
I walk back to the hotel room looking at the fancy people in suits and dresses. I look down at my white sweatpants and Hamza's old sweater which I borrowed without asking and frown. Why is everyone so overdressed? During my people-watching endeavors, my eyes identify a giant.
Marcello Russo.
Not having noticed me yet as he seems engrossed in a very serious conversation with an older man, I sneakily take a picture of him and send it to the Russo family group chat. I add the caption, "I am always watching," and send it with a grin on my face. Weirdly enough, I have been in this group chat for over a year, long before Angelo and I ever proposed a relationship.
I continue my walk past Marcello who seems to easily recognize me as I hear him excuse himself from the meeting. "Inaya?" I hear his confused voice and I have an amused expression plastered on my face.
"Hi, Marcello! How are you?" I ask as I walk towards him, smiling.
"Oh God, did your parents kick you out?" That is the first question he spews my way and I can't stop the laugh that erupts from me.
"No. It's my brother's wedding tonight. We're getting ready here because our house is snake infested. I am just joking. My relatives are amazing. Wait lying is a sin. Darn it." I mumble following Marcello who is walking toward the front desk. Oh no, is he kicking me out for my beyond funny joke?
He stops in front of the computer which I presume means he is doing hotel owner business. When my family and I planned to get ready at an expensive hotel I forced Angelo to text me a list of hotels he owned so we do not go to one Angelo Russo owned. I did not want him to let us stay here for free. But I completely failed to think that the other brothers might own hotels too.
"For twenty years I have never seen any of you Russos but now that is all I see. Everywhere I go I see one of you, which is definitely a pleasant surprise but also a sort of jump scare. Like I go right and bam! An almost seven feet tattooed Italian man in a suit waving me over with a child-like adorable smile," I ramble as Marcello finishes typing on the computer.
