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I stared at Anthony for a while, unsure as to what was going on, but when his crying was unbearable to sit through, I leaned over in my seat and kissed his cheek.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" I asked in the most gentle voice I could muster.

His caught a shaky breath, tears steadily streaming down his face.

"He ruined it." Anthony said finally, in a hoarse whisper. He pounded his fist down on the steering wheel, igniting the extremely loud car horn. "He fucking ruined it!!"

I felt myself want to pull back. Anthony was one of the few people who scared me when they were this angry and upset. Instead, I got out of the car, and walked to Anthony's side, opened his door, and made him walk to the curb. I sat down next to him, and almost immediately crawled into my arms. He rested his head on my breasts and wrapped his arms around me like a lost child.

"Now, who ruined what?" I pestered softly.

"My dad and our wedding, Lilly. How could you not have noticed?!" He wailed in desperation.

At this point, I could smell the alcohol that rolled off his tongue, and I knew he was acting purely off of his drunkenness.

"Ahh," I said kissing the top of his head, "But, I don't think he did."

I wiped Anthony's eyes and kissed his forehead, settling him up on his own self.

"I still like your dad, and his impression was slightly altered because he was late, maybe to you, but not to me. I don't think any less of him because he was late! Maybe he got caught up in something, or maybe he forgot! It's not our wedding day yet, after all. Then you can worry about his impression, babe."

Anthony calmed down more, and then his posture slumped. He let out a long and painful groan and then splattered the pavement with his puke. Oh, lucky me.

I rubbed his back as he projectile vomited everywhere, and waited patiently for his stomach to calm down now as well. When it did, I hurried him into the passenger's side of the car, and drove home speedily. When we did make it home, I tried to carry him inside as best as I could without making myself feel sick.

Finally, I managed to make it upstairs and plant his weak body on the bed where he passed out. What a night.

****************************

The nest day I woke up before Anthony, and went downstairs to make breakfast. I figured he needed something nutritional in his body considering his threw half of it up the previous night. I wonder if him vomiting was a sign from the spirits that our marriage would be full of illness? Eh, I guess our relationship was already. But isn't every relationship like that too? Hmm, maybe I'm just overthinking.

I scrambeled some eggs with tomatoes, made some bacon, fruit salad, toast with grape jelly, waffles and then some coffee and strawberry banana smoothies to drink. As soon as I set the table, I heard feet tread down the stairs and sweep into the kitchen. There stood an extremely hungover Anthony Kiedis.

"Good morning, beautiful." I said mockingly as I looked at his matted hair and dirty clothing.

He managed a smile and shook his head, "Smells good."

"Oh, so my absence from our bed didn't wake you, but the food did?" I said laughing.

Anthony sat down at the table and rolled up his sleeves, taking a sip of coffee, "Your absence always wakes me. Sometimes I just have a really bad case of morning wood, and I think it might be a little bit too much for you to handle is all."

I blurted out in laughter as I sat down at the time, obviously adding to his headache with my added noise.

"You had an erection this morning then?" I said trying to pressures my giggles.

"Who says erection anyways? And yeah, I wanted you to help me with it, but you were already downstairs, so I took care of it myself quick."

I stared at him. "You didn't masturbate in the sheets I hope and blow your load."

He smiled and took another sip of his coffee.

"Anthony! You pig!!" I laughed, and threw a blueberry at him.

"Oh, Lilly," he stammered quickly, "I seem to remember a certain night, when was it, on tour I think? That you touched yourself right in between my very thighs." He grinned proudly.

My face turned bright red.

"First of all," I began, regaining my confidence, "You wanted to see me touch myself, and I recall, that on that same night, you got a boner because you couldn't handle my essence. I think if any, my arousal is too much for you to handle, my love."

He started to say something, but pursed his lips. "All right, Lilly."

I smirked and shoved a forkful of waffle into my mouth.

Anthony dropped his fork and rubbed his face.

"What's wrong?!" I asked, a little worried.

"We're getting married in two weeks."

I laughed, "Yeah, we are."

But then the feeling in my stomach changed. I thought back to Eddie's conversation. Was I doing the right thing? Oh God, I hope I know what I'm doing... do I? Does Anthony? I'm going to marry him. He's going to marry me.

I couldn't help but feel scared and anxious. I mean I was getting fucking married and I was only in my mid 20s. Was this too early? Or just right?! If only I could call my mother and ask. She'd know.

It felt like a flutter of butterflies erupted in my stomach and then I was suddenly overcome with confidence and assurance. I was doing the right thing, I did love him, and he did love me. There was no force in nature that could stop me from being with him, except him himself.

I guess my mom did listen after all.

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