I’m not that kind of girl. I just want to be married. We could go to the court house in the morning and do it. I’d be happy. However, he’s not letting me do that, saying that I’ll regret my decision later. Trying to appease my future husband, I take his advice and shop for a dress. Just not in a store. The internet is a beautiful thing, I tell ya. “What do you think of this one?” I ask Jacoby, pointing at a picture of a wedding dress on a bridal website. Personally, I’m in love with it; tight bodice, flared at the bottom and a four foot train. The sweetheart neckline is only a perk. “You really like that one? Hey, aren’t you supposed to not show me the dress before the wedding? Bad luck or something stupid like that?” he asks, skeptical of my choice, apparently. “Yes,” I answer, slapping his arm and rolling my eyes. “It’s beautiful. Since this is our day, I want everything to be perfect.
