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WE HAD tried to behave like adults, to consider each other’s feelings and to reach a compromise. I wanted the wedding in early May, in the orchard with the white apple blossoms in full bloom. He agreed with the date but resisted the location. It could rain and then what? There was no backup plan.
I imagined a small wedding with close friends and family, my sister as my maid of honour and my best friend Nisha as my only bridesmaid. Fine, he said, but I need all four of my brothers to be groomsmen. One could be your best man. No, that’s for Matthew. How silly it would look with a small wedding. And how can you have four ushers and one bridesmaid?
The dress was mine, although he told me what he liked — white, traditional, long and modest. I picked a pink knee length lacy frock with a deep neckline. I can wear it again, I would tell him. Practical. He couldn’t argue with that.
His mother was intrusive but I forgave her. She was delighted another woman was joining her family and hosted two bridal showers. I threw one and your sister gave you one, so that counts as two on our side, my mother countered.
On the morning of our wedding the sky was a perfect blue, with a strong wind nudging along dark clouds on the horizon.