Surviving Valencia

Even my mother seemed pleased with how it all turned out. It was just so perfect. The best day ever. I felt like someone else entirely. It was the perfect celebration of the metamorphosis from the miserable girl I used to be to the happy woman only Adrian could have turned me into.

Chapter 15

“Are you ready?” Adrian asked me.

“I don’t have anything green to wear,” I said.

“You don’t have to wear green.”

“Well, I sort of do. Isn’t it like going out on Halloween and not wearing a costume?”

“No. Halloween is a much bigger deal.”

“You’re wearing green.”

Sometimes I think anyone could marry anyone and it would be the same. Probably everyone was having a similar conversation. Pick a house. Any house. Same conversation.

“Borrow something of Alexa’s.”

“Adrian, she’s three inches taller than me. Plus, that would be annoying. I wouldn’t want her borrowing my clothes.”

“You’ll look cute in anything. What about that really dark green pair of pants you have with that top you made. That flowy thing with that thing on it? Did you bring it?”

“Oh! The poncho with the wooden button. Good idea!” I dumped out one of the suitcases I had yet to unpack and found the outfit that Adrian was talking about. I hoped we would run into someone I used to know when we were out. Just to show off how much better I had turned out than anyone might have expected. But it was bound to not happen. I only ran into old acquaintances when I was wearing warm-up pants and souvenir t-shirts.

“I have a surprise for you,” he said, kissing my neck as I put on my earrings.

“Ooh, lucky me. What is it?”

“Close your eyes.”

So I did, and I felt him fastening a necklace behind my neck. We’re just like a jewelry commercial, I thought.

“Open them.”

“Adrian, it’s beautiful,” I said. And it was. Three varying lengths of delicate gold chain, the bottom one holding a tiny diamond pendant. I took off my earrings, which now did not match.

“Thank you,” I said, and gave him a hug. For some inexplicable reason, this made me think of the photos. Was this the behavior of a guilty man? Because it felt like it. So haphazard, so out of the blue. “What’s the occasion?” I asked.

“You’re the occasion.”

“Oh, that’s sweet.” I hate lines like that. Hate them. Has a line so corny ever evoked a genuine reaction? Only from someone stupid. I felt a tense anger rising within me and I fought to control it. I am my mother’s daughter, though I try to deny it. It is a constant battle to not become her.

I hugged him again, and kissed his lips, determined to stay the couple in the commercial. Adrian helped me along by holding up my hair. We faced one another in the mirror.

“You look very pretty,” his reflection said to my reflection.

“Thank you,” said my reflection.

We stared at each other for another few seconds and it began to feel very awkward. I turned away and shook out my hair.

“So you like it?” he asked.

I nodded, touching the delicate chains. It was mall jewelry, but probably expensive. Shouldn’t an artist have artsier taste? Shouldn’t I be receiving something edgier that cut my skin and made my neck ache? But if he had better taste then I would worry he was gay. “I do,” I said.

This is your fault, I told myself. You are unable to be satisfied.

“Do you really like it?” he asked. “We could exchange it if you don’t.”