Thirteen
Her Destiny
Saint
This tuxedo crap got on my damn last nerve. The simplest requirement of picking out formal wear for our wedding had turned out to be a ridiculous fiasco, and I wished someone else would take my place. I’d prefer to be back home, warm in my bed with Liv, not at a men’s custom tailor shop.
I preferred jeans and a goddamn T-shirt with my favorite leather jacket, not some color-coordinated bullshit, but Liv insisted on living out the childhood dream. A fairytale wedding filled with enchantment, tradition, and romance.
I’d give Liv anything she wanted. Kneel to offer her the world and every motherfucking thing on this planet. Whatever she chose would rightfully be hers, but she had picked this. I had to put up with this fucking materialized bullshit.
“Would yeah pick a damn square, man?” Sin held up two pocket squares for the tuxedo jacket. “I’m sick of this shit already.”
“I don’t like any of them. Please don’t make me choose. They both are…” I wanted to throw up in my damn mouth. “Too colorful.”
“Not our style. I fucking know, but we’ve gotta make a choice.” Sin sighed and pulled at his bow tie. “Christ. It’s boiling in here. Are you hot?”
“I’m sweating my balls off in this goddamn joint,” I replied.
“Probably because these dang monkey suits have layers to them.” Sin yanked off his bow tie and opened the collar of his dress shirt. “There. Much better.”
I rolled my eyes, “Pick a color so we can get the fuck out of here.”
“Christ. I choose…” Sin glanced back and forth between the materials, but shook his head with a frustrated sigh. “Fuck. I can’t decide.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Same reason as you, moron. I hate this shit as much as you do,” Sin admitted as his cell phone rang and he pulled it out of his jeans pocket. “Even the damn wardrobe consultant was no fucking help. Hello?”
Sin listened to the voice on the other line while I mouthed at him, “Who the fuck is it?” probably five times before he pushed my face away with his hand.
Sin covered the mouthpiece with his hand. “It’s the shrink. Fuck off.”
Good old Dr. Stevens. Perfect timing. We needed a damn distraction.
“Heya, shrink.” I waved at the screen once Sin made the call into a video chat. “Long time, no therapy. Haha. Get it?”
Sin glared at me as if I were a mental case ready to go straight to the ward. “You’re an idiot.”
“Nah, it’s funny. Right, Dr. Stevens?” I asked.
“A classic, Saint.” The young Gen Z smiled at me.
I imagined we’d share a high five. Christ. I was an old-timer.
Stupidly, I chuckled until Sin stared at me. “What?”
“Can we please get on with the problem at hand?” Sin asked.
“Sure. No one’s stopping you. Geez.” I huffed.
“Good.” Sin cleared his throat. “Thanks for calling on such short notice.”
“Absolutely. The floor is yours, gentleman,” Dr. Stevens said as he took a seat and adjusted his screen. “What seems to be the problem?”
Our shrink popped a Sour Patch Kids candy into his mouth. A blue one. Must be his favorite treat because he had the candies in his office too.
“We’re worried Liv is getting cold feet before the wedding,” Sin said.
“Okay.” Dr. Stevens nodded. “A natural response.”
“Not helping,” I mumbled.
Dr. Stevens chuckled softly. “Fair enough. Why do you think Liv is uncertain?”
“Because of the way she acted while we were sparring. She was confident. Too assertive…” Sin explained while lost in the memory. “She told us she didn’t want to do lessons anymore.”
“And how did this make you feel, Sin?” Dr. Stevens asked.
“Upset. Worried. Like less of a man.”
Dr. Stevens glanced at me. “How about you, Saint? How did you feel?”
“Same. Worthless even.” I rubbed the back of my neck, nerves creeping in. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m fucking proud of her accomplishments, but I guess I’m not used to this new version of her.”
We had taken Liv’s decision hard. Straight to the heart like an arrow piercing right through the organ, blood vessels leaking fluid until it came out at the seams.
The young Gen Z had grown up a bit since we last saw him. He had more facial hair with a manly, well-groomed beard. Boy was a real man now.
“It appears Liv’s confidence intimidates you.” Dr. Stevens chewed another candy. “She makes you both feel inadequate.”
I wasn’t sure if Dr. Stevens’s psychological guidance irritated me or if it was the sound of him chewing, but I was pissed off.
“Look. Shrink. I’m not fucking defective.” My nostrils flared.
“No. You’re not flawed, Mr. Sullivan,” Dr. Stevens said.
Sin huffed. “Then what the fuck are you getting at?”
“Liv doesn’t require your help anymore with self-defense,” Dr. Stevens explained with his hands making gestures. “But it doesn’t mean she doesn’t need you.”
What in the actual fucking lousy medical advice was this horse shit? My eyes were crossing by the minute. I was so damn confused.
I felt as if I were a fucking Neanderthal.
“Okay. Cut to the damn chase,” I blurted out.
“Yeah, man, we trust you…” Sin heaved a sigh. “But your shrinky dinky do shit is screwing with us.”
“Okay. It’s simple. You need to help Liv in other ways like… Ah!” Dr. Stevens snapped his fingers. “You can both get more involved in the wedding planning.”
I glanced over at Sin and shrugged. “Yeah. We haven’t been doing anything for the ceremony. I guess we could?”
“Kinda a chick thing…” Sin raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think?”
“Nope. Doesn’t have to be. Men help their brides now too. Liv will appreciate the guidance, and this could even benefit your relationship with her,” Dr. Stevens replied.
“We’re listening.” I pulled the phone screen closer.
“You could grow closer. Stronger. More united,” he answered confidently.
Damn. The shrink spoke our love language. All we wanted was to be one with Liv. Fucking joined at the hips.
I thought about flower shopping with the intense smells making me sneeze.
All those bright colors hurting my damn eyes and welling up with tears in the corners.
A goddamn burn in my throat at the sudden onset of allergies at the idea, even though the blossoms weren’t real.
I’d rather poke my eyeballs out and pierce my brain in the process than visit a florist, but I’d do it all for Liv.
This made her happy, and I’d die to make her content.
“As much as I hate to admit, Liv has an appointment with a florist coming up.” I made a gagging sound.
“I guess some cake tasting wouldn’t hurt,” Sin mumbled, displeased.
“Might mess with your physique before the big day,” Dr. Stevens joked.
The shrink was the only one laughing, and we glared at him.
I wanted to reach through the damn screen to strangle him.
He might be a smart-ass, but his wise crack wasn’t helping.
We were deadly serious as shit, and we wouldn’t tolerate anything standing in our way from tying the knot with Liv. Not even some extra weight gain.
Sin pushed the cell phone back. “Does it look like we need to fucking worry about that?”
My best friend opened his shirt to show off his pecks, giving them a bounce while I untucked my shirt and displayed tight abs. Chiseled to a T and every woman’s fucking dream body on a man. Except someone else had already claimed us. We belonged to Liv.
“What’s on the outside can’t hide the inside. Physical appearance is half the battle,” Dr. Stevens said.
Who was this guy? The newest dude to come up with a catchphrase? Mike, the situation on my favorite reality TV show, had him beat.
I yanked the phone out of Sin’s hand. “Enough with the mumbo jumbo. Be point-blank, or we’re finding a new shrink. Spit it out already.”
“Be there for your fiancée. Listen to her. Guide her when she washes astray. Be her anchor and help her to shore.”
“Give me that…” Sin took his phone back. “Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Okay. We get it now. Lend some fucking hands with the wedding and all the bullshit with it.”
“Exactly.” Dr. Stevens smiled. “But with more enthusiasm. You’ve got this, gentlemen. I have faith in you.”
At least someone does.
“One last question for you, shrink, before we let you loose.” Sin held up his index finger.
“I’m all ears,” Dr. Stevens said.
“Do you prefer the red or purple in the pocket square?” Sin asked while he showed off our tuxedos with an elongated sigh. “We can’t fucking decide.”
“Neither.” Dr. Stevens shook his head. “I’d go with black.”
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow. “Black on black.”
“Yeah.” Dr. Stevens grinned while he popped another Sour Patch into his mouth. “You both look great, by the way.”
Sin smiled proudly. “Thanks, shrink.”
“My pleasure,” Dr. Stevens said.
Sin hung up. The grown-up Gen Z disappeared, solving our problems.
Sin shrugged. “Guess we’re going with black.”
“Yep.” I popped the P and gave a curt nod. “And we’ve got a wedding to plan.”