Samantha:
I don’t like weddings.
Don’t get me wrong, they just smell like expectations, a giant five-layered cake, kissing under the sunlight, dancing and drinking expensive champagne? It just seems so desperate, especially when you are thirty-seven, and all your friends are either expecting their third child, married or soon to be married.
“Maybe this time, you’ll find the love of your life.” My mother’s hearty voice chirps through the phone as I drag my travel bag to the elevator.
I roll my eyes so hard. “Mama, I am going for a wedding, not an audition for the bachelor.”
She laughs, completely ignoring my sarcasm. “What about Andrew? He’s smart and handsome, and he’s even a doctor, just like you.”
I swear, if anyone mentions that smug bastard’s name, I might totally lose my mind.
