4: The Discomfort

Armani and I sat down in the midst of both of our families. He was beside his father whilst I was beside my mother, and the rest of our families stretched on from there at the long table.

Looking around the room, I didn't know many of the people, but I figured they were more Dad's friends than Olivia's, so I didn't have to worry about anyone wondering why the bride had been switched. Most would convince themselves that they'd simply had the wrong sister in mind - this was what my mother told me when she caught me staring at the guests.

Dad made a short toast to bringing our families together, which he was clearly overjoyed about since it meant he didn't have to pay lots of money to the Cartellis. I pondered over how I could replace that money, as it must have been a large sum for my father to sell one of his daughters just to avoid it. But then, Dad had always been protective of his cash.

After a meal that allowed me to rest my feet for a while, I was forced to get up and greet the guests I didn't even know. Armani split off from me - presumably to meet his own guests - so Mom kept me company, providing me with names and subtle conversation starters so I didn't embarrass myself. I had never treasured her more than those few minutes per person.

Just as I was speaking to one of Dad's oldest friends, I felt somebody come up behind me, their height literally casting a shadow over my body. A hand gently touched my waist on one side, and the businessman in front of me smiled.

"Armani! Big day."

"Yes," Armani agreed, quiet. "I would love to chat but I need to steal my wife from you."

A shiver ran down my spine.

"Of course. Have a nice night, you two." He snickered to himself as he pulled Mom away from us.

Once it was safe, Armani muttered, "You looked uncomfortable."

"I was... thank you."

He nodded. "We need to cut the cake in a minute, but we don't have to feed each other."

I glanced between his features curiously. "Do you... want to?"

"No," he replied quickly, then paused. "Perhaps it might be a good idea, though. A lot of these people are... suspicious."

My eyes flickered to the hand on my waist.

"I'm okay with it... you know, if you are. I don't want to assume anything," I rushed out. My face started to heat up again.

"It couldn't hurt. Come with me, then." Armani led me in the direction of the large wedding cake that looked just like something Olivia would pick out. I was reminded by little things constantly that this wasn't my wedding, even if I would have picked mostly similar choices. The music taste was all my sister, and I still couldn't get over her shoe choice.

The guests gathered around as a chef brought us the slicer. I felt more awkward than I had for the entire evening knowing what was about to happen and deeply regretted asking Armani if he wanted to feed me and be fed. But it was too late to tell him now, when we were already placing the slice on a paper plate.

I noticed he cast a glance at me, probably thinking the same thing, before he broke some of the cake off with a fork. I braced myself.

Armani had an accurate hand; he didn't so much as get icing on my lips, it seemed like. I was grateful that he hadn't ruined my makeup. However, this only made me more embarrassed when I got some on his nose. A few people laughed as he swiped it off with his thumb. He seemed to be amused, too, but I didn't know him well enough to know if he was pretending or not.

The chef started cutting the rest of the cake to hand out to guests, and we stepped out of the way to let them get to it. I held the paper plate in my hand still, feeling the weight of it in my hands.

"You can eat that if you want," Armani muttered, leading me back toward the main table.

I smiled at him. "I wasn't going to."

"It's fine, you can work on your aim."

I was about to exclaim at him in surprise, but his brother, Fredrico, showed up out of nowhere and whispered into his ear. He nodded slightly, twisting away. "Excuse me."

Left alone, I eagerly took a seat at the table to finish my cake slice. It was abandoned by now as everyone else was queuing for the very thing I was eating. I spent some time reflecting to myself, wondering how different this could have gone if Olivia was still in her white dress instead of me.

Despite Armani seemingly treating me well, I couldn't help but be mad at my sister. She'd completely thrown me under the bus - and knew it in advance as she had knowingly brought the wedding dress her and mom made for me. She'd expected Dad to switch to me instead and by bringing a dress, she'd actually encouraged it.

But one side of my brain argued that she would never put me in a position where I could be in danger in any way, and since she'd only spoken good of Armani, I had to remember that she must have done the calculations. I shouldn't have anything to worry about and I shouldn't be mad... but I still was.

When the first of the guests hit the dancefloor, I was reminded that whether Armani and I would have the first dance was still uncertain, but the simplest movement of my foot by now caused an agonising pain through not only my heels and toes, but my ankles, too. There was no way I was going to be able to dance in these conditions - plus, I didn't know if I even wanted to.

Armani was distracted by a different guest now, so I abandoned my paper plate at the table and made my way over to him, hiding the pain in my face. He looked so tall, dark and handsome from afar, yet a lot softer once I was just a couple of steps away.

"Ah! The bride," said the guest, who I'd already spoken to but forgotten the name of. "Good timing, I was just leaving."

I smiled shyly at him as he gave Armani an amused look and left us alone. To play the part of the loving couple, Armani casually wrapped his arm around my waist, which put me much too close to his body considering we had met just over an hour ago.

"Um..." I felt so awkward. "I-I know you don't really know me but my... my feet hurt, so can we... not do the dance?"

He glanced between my eyes for a moment, thinking, then nodded. But then he started to lead me through the room.

"W-where are we going?" I stuttered out.

"Come with me," he murmured simply.

Nobody seemed to cast a second glance at the newlyweds leaving their own reception. I hoped only that no one thought we were going to do something naughty, as I didn't think the blood cells in my face could handle overworking themselves again.

To my surprise, the moment the door to the reception room closed, Armani swept down and took me off my feet into his arms. I tried to suppress the squeal that left my lips, but I was sure someone somewhere must have heard it.

"What are you doing?!" I exclaimed.

He started to carry me toward the stairs. "Your feet hurt."

"Y-yes, so I wanted to avoid the dance." I wiggled in his arms. "I don't need to be carried."

"It's temporary," he replied quietly.

I fell silent as he took me back to the bride's suite. I expected us to walk into the scene I'd left earlier, but instead of Olivia's bag, I found mine instead. Someone had switched our rooms.

Armani placed me down on the bed and motioned toward the closet. "Where are your shoes? Something you can actually walk in."

"Um... probably in my bag down there."

He knelt down to fish through my trunk, before standing up with a pair of all-white sneakers. He moved instead in front of me, kneeling, and began to lift up my dress. I automatically slapped his hand, and he raised a brow at me.

"Sorry," I whispered.

"It was a reasonable reaction, Rose, I was just surprised."

"Y-you looked... judgy. And offended..."

He shook his head. "If you didn't stop me from lifting your skirt, I would be worried."

Armani took off my murderous heels, instantly freeing my feet, and slipped on a pair of white socks before my most comfortable sneakers. I placed my foot on his knee, letting him tie both laces, then brushed my skirt back down. When I stood, I was instantly three inches shorter than I had been before. Armani looked to be caught off guard by my real height - he'd towered over me even with the heels on.

"Is that better?" he asked as he threw the heels into the corner of the room. I'd have preferred them to find a home in the fireplace.

"Yes, thank you. You can't even tell!" I stuck my leg out but the skirt was so long that it just draped over my shoe.

"Let's go back to the party, shall we, Rose?"

I nodded, so he took my hand. The first thing we both noticed was that it was suddenly much harder to do something even so simple...