“Ani jan?” Kami’s aunt asked.
Ani realized she had not been paying attention to any of the proceedings and that the pit of dread in her stomach had disappeared. Hmm. Maybe she could survive this after all.
“Oh, sorry? I was thinking about a work matter,” she lied.
“Do you think sleeves or no sleeves?”
Ani shook herself and tried to answer impartially, as if she were not giving an opinion about her ex-girlfriend’s wedding sleeve situation.
“Sleeves are in right now, but trends come and go. Kami should choose the dress that looks best on her and that she feels is…the one.”
“See, Kami? You do not have to choose sleeve!” her aunt shouted past the curtain.
“I know, Tantig. Okay, check this one out.”
Kami appeared, wearing an open boho lace number that tightly fit her body. Ani swallowed. The dress left nothing to the imagination, and Ani didn’t need to imagine; she could just reach into her memories and see that body in all its glory. This dress was a stark reminder.
Before anyone could say anything, Kami gushed, “Iloveit.”
Both her mom and aunt made clucking noises. Her aunt said at earsplitting volume, “Kami jan, it looks like lingerie!”
Her mom said, “You know I will love whatever you choose, but it feels so open. You don’t want your grandfather and great uncle Varoujan seeing your outlines like that.”
Kami turned around. It was extremely low cut in the back as well.
“It looks like an arrow pointing toward your butt crack,” Galia quipped. She looked to Ani. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Ani pressed her lips together because Galia’s assertion was unfortunately accurate—the back of the dress was practically aWelcome to the Crackbillboard. Ani said carefully, “You could probably add some lace to the back to make it less of a plunge. And cups with extra lace to the front so it’s not as sheer in the…chest.”
“That would be an improvement,” Kami’s mom mused.
Even Kami’s aunt seemed to consider it.
Kami stared down at the dress, inspecting the lace. “I love this pattern, so floral but not in a dowdy way.”
“No.” Her mom laughed. “No one would call that dowdy.”
Kami glanced up again, inspired by something. “Oh my God, speaking of flowers, have I told you guys the flowers I’m thinking of for the wedding?”
She had not yet, and Ani was curious about this because it was part of the design she’d be working with to create one cohesive look for the wedding.
“I want lots of white, and obviously roses up the wazoo, but most importantly I want ranunculus in my bouquet and, like, everywhere. They’re my absolute favorite flower.”
Kami looked at Ani meaningfully at this last proclamation, and Ani practically stopped breathing. Ranunculus. In her bouquet. All over the winery grounds.
Theirflower.
Ani was the one who introduced Kami to ranunculus; it was their thing together. They always got arrangements of ranunculus for each other. For special occasions or just because. Kami had become obsessed with the tight petals, the dark centers. Ani thought maybe Kami would have discarded her love of the flowers just like she discarded Ani, but no, apparently not.
Kami saying that ranunculus were still her favorite flower almost felt like she was saying Ani was still her favorite person. But she knew she wasn’t.
And suddenly, this entire thing was unbearable. Kami in her wedding dresses, the outline of her breasts visible, her family missing Ani, everyone wanting her opinion, and thegoddamn ranunculus that Kami had kept as one of her favorite things. Ani’s face grew hot, almost to bursting, and she felt tears threatening to spill.
Ani gave a look of surprise, a show for everyone. “Oh my goodness, I’m sorry, I forgot I have to do something time-sensitive for work. You guys don’t mind if I step out for five?”
It was weird of her, and this was work as much as anything else was work, but no one objected. Once Ani rounded the corner, she ran. She pushed the heavy glass door and stepped into the sunlight. The pressure behind her eyes built up, about to explode with tears. She slipped into a quiet alcove where she was sure she would be alone and let it out.
Ani cried hard. She cried for the way she’d come up short with Kami, for the way she’d been so alone ever since, for her inability to say no to Kami, for the fact that she’d never love anyone else the way she had loved Kami.
