Rich People Problems

xviii | unholy matrimony pt. 1

KIMBERLY

THE WAY I once knew all the details about my future wedding was the same way I knew what would happen on the morning of my wedding.

Mom would be helping me get ready with Vivian. Even though everyone would expect me to hire professionals, I wouldn't. Mom always knew how I liked my hair, and Vivian was the only other person I trusted with doing my makeup naturally.

We'd be laughing together. Smiling happily, looking forward to the day ahead of us.

Once I was done getting ready, Dad would be standing at the door with a proud smile on his face. He'd come up to me, holding my face in his comforting hands, placing a kiss on my forehead.

Mom would start yelling at him to not mess with the perfection she created atop my head and he would laugh, kissing her with as much adoration as she deserved.

We'd be laughing. We'd be smiling. We'd be happy.

This wasn't what I wanted.

It was a perfect day. The perfect end-of-summer weather. The perfect venue with the perfect decorations. The perfect hair. The perfect makeup. Everything was so fucking perfect, but I couldn't find it in myself to be happy.

"Raya, could I get a minute alone with Kim?" Vivian asked from my side.

Mom nodded, leaving the room. The second she was gone, the smile I had on my face completely dropped. I didn't want her to feel guilty or upset about all of this, so I kept up a facade to show I was okay.

That I was okay with this.

"God, what's wrong with me?" I sighed, exasperatedly. "Everything's amazing, Vivi. Why can't I fucking smile like I fucking mean it?"

My body started shaking, tears threatening to come out. Vivian wrapped me into her arms. "Let it out, babe."

Just like I fell to my knees in the boutique, I fell to the ground, shaking with violent sobs into Vivian's shoulder.

"I just...I just..." I could barely get the words out, choking over the tears. "I feel like I'm betraying him. It should've been him, Vivi. It was always supposed to be him."

I already knew what she wanted to say. Today was a mirror of the day we went wedding-dress shopping.

He would want you to be happy.

But, I didn't care what he wanted. Call me selfish, but I cared about what I wanted. And I always wanted him.

"Kimberly Nyla Astor"—she grabbed my face and pulled it back to look me in the eyes—"you are the last person on Earth who cries while looking this good. So, stand up and wipe those tears away. If there's anyone who can do this, it's you."

Thankfully, she didn't say the words I thought would come out of her mouth. Even though I probably needed to hear it, I didn't want to hear it.

With her help, I stood up and wiped the tears with a soft cloth. She got to fixing my hair and makeup when my eyes drifted down to the necklace and my hand came up to meet it.

"I should probably take this off."

Vivian was normally great at keeping a poker face, but her eyes flashed with understandable shock.

In the many years I've had this necklace, there was not a single day when I willingly took it off. The only time it wasn't around my neck was when I was absolutely required to take it off for photoshoots or runways.