Generation 1 Chapter 7: Amani Vista

“Brock?” I muttered.
“Amani, don’t marry that fool!” Brock instructed.
“Excuse me?” Concord gasped at the insult.
“Don’t marry him!” Brock repeated.
“Why does this concern you, anyways? Aren’t you and Albany dating?” Concord insisted. 

“Amani,” Brock pleaded, brushing off Concord’s commentary, “I’ve loved you ever since we met that one day at the laundry mat. I knew you would be the only one for me. But I was just too afraid to admit it… Too afraid you’d say no… Too afraid I wasn’t good enough…”
“Well you’re too late,” I barked through clenched teeth.
“But Amani-!”

“No Brock, please, just go away. You ruined my engagement…” I confessed, letting the tears roll down my cheeks.
“Amani, I didn’t mean for-!”
“Please. Just go,” I mumbled.
“But-!”
“Go!”

I turned to Concord as Brock trudged away in defeat, “Yes.”
“Huh?” 
“I’ll marry you,” I declared, tears streaming down my face.
Did he really just ruin what was supposed to be one of the most magical moments in my life?

What seemed like in a blink of an eye, the wedding was upon us. Concord hired a professional wedding committee to decorate our side yard into the ideal place for an outdoor ceremony. I must admit, for a guy, he knows his stuff pretty well. Everything looked phenomenal; he supplied every detail I had envisioned, right down to the vanilla frosting on our cake.  

I stood in the bathroom examining my reflection. I really hadn’t done anything all that special for the big day… My hair stayed the same and I refused to wear any makeup. (That stuff could clog your pores, you know!) The only difference, obviously, was my attire, a wedding gown

The guests arrived in a timely manner, and before I knew it, Concord and I were standing under the wedding arch exchanging out vows!

Our first kiss as husband and wife was shared just as the sun was setting…

Eep! How romantic, was that?! 

Guests were awwing and ouuing as the exchange concluded, and I must admit, I think I may have been doing the same thing internally…
All of this just seemed so surreal; I hardly believed that I wasn’t dreaming.

Concord cut the cake surprisingly well. I was a little nervous (of what, I don’t know…) but he managed to serve a delicately proportional slice each time!

“How are you enjoying your cake, Husband?”
“It’s delicious, my wife. And you?”
“It couldn’t be any better,” I smiled, feeding Concord a bite from my plate.

We even had live entertainment! Albany insisted she should play the guitar at the reception to save us some money. I certainly wasn’t complaining… Plus, the guests seemed to enjoy it, dancing the night away like there was no tomorrow.

“I love you Mrs. Vista,” Concord remarked as we lounged on the bed.
“You do?” I teased.
“What of course.”
“Then prove it.”
And so he did.