15 | A Not so White Wedding

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Since visiting her grandmother, Dharsheni's outlook towards her engagement had once again turned into something infectiously positive

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Since visiting her grandmother, Dharsheni's outlook towards her engagement had once again turned into something infectiously positive. She was back on speaking terms with her parents, and while her father was behaving as though nothing had happened, her mother had admitted her disappointment. While it was far from ideal, Dharsheni seemed pleased one of them had at least acknowledged the news, and it wasn't as though her mother's reaction was unexpected.

Her grandmother, on the other hand, had been giddy with excitement ever since Dharsheni had called her the day Isabella proposed. She'd demanded, rather aggressively by the sound of her ecstatic shouting down the phone, that she and Belle had to visit immediately for a celebratory dinner. Isabella, Dharsheni, and her grandmother's diaries had yet to align for said dinner, but it was an enormous relief to see Dharsheni's electricity return after she'd visited her grandmother the previous weekend.

Despite her granddaughter only getting engaged a little under two months ago, Dharsheni's grandmother had been insisting that they were to go wedding dress shopping as soon as possible. Dharsheni had quickly crumbled, both under the weight of her grandmother's demands and her own refreshed excitement, and so she and I were heading into Surrey where her grandmother lived to do exactly that. Unfortunately for me, that meant having to drive. 

I drove with gritted teeth and my hands clasped tightly around my steering wheel as we weaved through the chaos of central London, and it wasn't until we reached Richmond that my grip eased slightly. Dharsheni found the entire ordeal hilarious because although I was entirely oblivious of myself doing it, whenever I drove, I apparently muttered profanities under my breath in response to just about everything that happened outside the vehicle. 

It wasn't my fault drivers in central London were so idiotic and impatient, so any swearing directed at them on my part was perfectly justified, if you asked me. I was stopped at a traffic light on the outskirts of Fulham and because I didn't aggressively accelerate the moment it turned green, some asshole behind me honked their horn about ten times. 

Idiots. Everywhere.

'What are you thinking, dress-wise?' I asked Dharsheni once we were far away enough from the city for me to be able to think straight. 'You're going traditional, right?'

Dharsheni shifted in the passenger seat beside me. 'Uh, I dunno, I'll probably just get a Western one.'

I turned to her with such force that I nearly snapped my neck. 'What? You've always said you wanted to wear a lehenga, a saree, the whole shebang.' 

I'd returned my eyes to the road ahead of me, but caught Dharsheni shrugging in the corner of my eye.

'Yeah, it's—I don't know, I just don't want to offend my parents or anything.'

I honestly could've smacked that girl sometimes. Instead, as I slowed my car at a traffic light, I turned to look at her with raised eyebrows to ask a silent, really?   

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