Becky silently thanked every gruesome lesson that her cruel stepmother had forced upon her for the past nine years. With a neutral expression on her face, she nodded in agreement at all the appropriate places and hummed when necessary, hiding her true feelings of frustration and exhaustion.
She wanted to get married to Cole, and it wasn’t just because her father had been pushing for this marriage union for months. Becky actually liked Cole and thought they could have a good life together. But the wedding preparations were proving to be a mountain she wasn’t sure she could overcome.
Thankfully, with her best acting efforts at work, Becky’s frustrations seemed to have gone unnoticed by her cousin, Ivonne, who had been flipping through pages of a bridal magazine while sipping on her latte. Ivonne suddenly paused and turned to Becky with a disapproving look on her face. “Pearls are so last decade. So all these are not an option,” she remarked, flipping to the next page.
The urge to roll her eyes was so strong, she almost didn’t hold back. For the past hour and a half, Becky had listened patiently to Ivonne’s critiques and suggestions about what was fashionable and acceptable for a wedding dress, and what wouldn’t look good on her. The endless list of designs that Ivonne found unsuitable was beginning to wear on her, but Becky knew she couldn’t show any signs of annoyance or impatience. Instead, she kept a calm demeanor and continued to nod along, all the while counting down the minutes until she could escape this torturous ordeal.
Needing something to distract her and avoid the need to respond with actual words, Becky picked up her second glass of orange juice. She could have killed for a milkshake but didn’t want her cousin’s judging opinions to make her day worse than it already was. That was the reason she wasn’t having some chocolate cake as well.
Unlike Ivonne, who was supermodel thin regardless of what she put in her mouth, not that she actually ate a lot. The woman considered the cup of latte an absolute sin and would probably be hitting the gym for ten hours to work off the invisible fat she had acquired this morning. Becky didn’t share the dedication and her body just didn’t take to starvation and torture like Ivonne’s body did. She should know. Her stepmother, Sylvia, had tried to make Becky lose the extra weight for years. It just didn’t happen.
Despite the criticism from her family, the irony of the matter was that Becky wasn’t even considered overweight by any standard. Her body mass index was within the healthy range, and she had a good height that balanced her medium build and hourglass figure. Any other day, free from the disapproving eyes of her family, Becky would have felt confident and been in love with her curves.
But the constant scrutiny and pressure from her relatives made her feel self-conscious and insecure. She couldn’t help but compare herself to the models in the bridal magazines and wonder if she measured up. Even though she knew deep down that her body was perfectly fine, it was hard not to be affected by the constant criticisms and negative comments.
Despite all of this, Becky tried to remain strong and kept her feelings hidden. She knew that if she showed any sign of vulnerability, it would only make things worse. So she continued to nod and smile, pretending to be interested in Ivonne’s opinions about wedding dresses, all the while longing for the moment when she could finally escape and be free from their judgmental stares.
But apparently, her acting skills had reached their limit. Ivonne stopped flipping pages suddenly and stared at Becky.
“What’s wrong with you? You don’t seem so excited about this.”
Unclenching her jaw, Becky forced a smile and ran her fingers through her loose hair. “I’m just tired, Ivonne. It’s been a long morning already.”
Ivonne didn’t look pleased with that answer, but sneered and shrugged, turning back to the magazine. “I have no idea how you are going to keep up with a man like Cole. He needs a wife who can be at his side all the time. Energetic and bright. Perhaps you should join me at the gym. You could certainly use the workout, and it would help you build stamina.”
Ivonne’s sneer and dismissive attitude made Becky’s stomach churn, but she forced herself to remain composed. She couldn’t believe her cousin’s audacity to suggest that she wasn’t good enough for Cole and that she needed to work on her stamina to keep up with him. But really, she shouldn’t have been shocked.
I would rather swallow a live venomous snake, Becky thought bitterly. She was tempted to retort with a scathing comment about Ivonne’s own lack of physical fitness. The damn woman looked like a strong wind would knock her over. If that was healthy, then Becky was a monkey. But she bit her tongue and instead declined the invitation to the gym. The last thing she wanted was to spend any more time with Ivonne than necessary.
“I’m afraid I can’t join you at the gym,” she said, forcing a polite smile on her lips. “My dad asked me to check on something for him. And with all the wedding preparations, I really don’t have any free time. But thank you for the offer.”
Ivonne rolled her eyes, clearly not convinced by Becky’s excuse, but thankfully, she didn’t press the matter further. Becky breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the small reprieve. She couldn’t wait for this wedding planning to be over so she could go back to living her own life, free from the judgment and criticism of her family.
“Oh well,” Ivonne said as she stood up and smoothed her peach-colored dress down with her palms. “I guess I will be on my way, then. Let’s do lunch tomorrow and then I can help you pick the shoes and flowers.
Becky nodded. “Sure.” Mentally, she went through all the plausible excuses she could give tomorrow to avoid another round of Ivonne’s fashion advice.
Becky’s cousin’s high heels created a rhythmic clicking noise against the polished floor of the cafe, as if announcing her departure. Becky breathed a deep sigh of relief as her cousin left. It was always a trial to listen to Ivonne’s endless lectures on fashion, body type, and how to be the perfect wife for a successful man. It was a wonder why her cousin, already at the age of twenty-six, hadn’t yet found herself a rich man to marry with all that wisdom.
The wedding to Cole was less than a month away. Technically speaking, Becky should have been done with all the major details, such as wedding dresses, shoes, flowers, and jewelry. But it had been hell reaching any decision. Especially when nobody liked her choices, and she didn’t like theirs.
Although Becky allowed herself to be pushed over many things in her life, she at least wanted to hold a semblance of control over this one important day of her life. Was that too much to ask?
After a moment, Becky sighed, gathered the bridal magazines scattered across the table, and made her way to the counter. She needed something to lift her spirits after the ordeal of tolerating Ivonne for more than five minutes. She ordered a large chocolate milkshake to go and waited for it patiently, lost in her own thoughts.
Her next stop would also put a smile on her face, she reminded herself. Becky was going to check on a new lens for her camera.
Becky had always been fascinated by the power of a single moment captured on camera. She loved how a photograph could convey emotions, tell a story, or simply freeze time, like the pictures of her beautiful late mother. Her passion for photography had started when she was a child, playing with her mother’s old camera. As she grew older, she became more and more interested in the art and the technicalities behind it.
It became her passion, even though no one approved of it or supported it. Well, not completely. Her father had recognized her talent and had supported her dreams by paying for her college tuition. However, once she graduated, he made it clear that photography was not a suitable career choice for a woman of the upper class. According to him, it was nothing more than a hobby that she could indulge in during her free time.
Despite her family’s lack of support, Becky continued to pursue her passion. She spent every spare moment capturing the world around her through her lens. She had created a portfolio of breathtaking images of sunsets, trees, and pets, that she was proud of, even though no one else seemed to care.
But for Becky, photography was more than just a hobby. It was her escape from the suffocating expectations of her family and society. It was the only thing that made her feel alive, free, and sane. And she was determined to make a name for herself one day. She didn’t know how, yet. But it was a dream she held on to with both hands.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Becky returned her thoughts to the present and tapped an impatient finger on the counter.
The barista came back with her milkshake after a moment. Becky smiled and paid for it. Then she turned to leave and nearly poured the wonderful, brown frothy liquid all over the man standing directly behind her.