(Liam's POV)
The days seemed to blur together in the lead-up to the meeting with our parents. Linna and I spent most of our time busying ourselves with preparations for the wedding that was now just a month away. Linna seemed to radiate excitement, her energy infectious as we tackled the various to-dos on our ever-growing list.
"Okay, so do you think we should go with the navy blue or the burgundy for the tablecloths?" Linna asked, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration as she scrolled through her notes on her tablet.
I paused, staring blankly at the colorful fabric options displayed on the screen. Truth be told, I had lost track of what colors even matched, the patterns blurring together in my mind. "Uh, navy blue sounds good," I said, the words slipping out without much thought.
"Perfect! The bridesmaids' dresses will look stunning against that backdrop," she replied, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm.
I nodded, but inside I felt a pit of emptiness growing. I wasn't sure why I felt so detached or why I had been going through the motions rather than savoring the moments that should have felt monumental. This was supposed to be one of the happiest times of our lives, and yet, all I felt was a hollow echo of excitement.
Linna continued scrolling, oblivious to the waves of disconnection rolling over me. "Oh, and we have to decide on the guest list! I thought we could start with family, then you know, all our friends from college and high school."
"Yeah, sounds good," I said, forcing a smile, but the enthusiasm in my voice felt feigned even to me. I could tell that Linna was noticing my lack of engagement, the way her brow creased with concern for just a moment before she turned back to her planning.
We started separating the lists, Linna jotting down names while I mindlessly pointed to entries. Friends who I cared about, family who I loved, and yet, nothing about it stirred anything within me.
"Should we invite Aaron?" Linna asked abruptly, looking up from her notes. The mention of his name sent a jolt through me. I wanted to scream that he was my best friend, that of course he should be there, but the enthusiasm felt trapped behind a wall of emotional detachment I couldn't quite explain.
"Yeah, definitely," I replied, forcing the words out. "He wouldn't miss it for the world."
Linna noted it down with a satisfied nod, her smile unwavering as she continued on to the next item. "And what about food? Do you want a buffet style or a seated dinner?"
"Buffet seems more casual," I suggested, my voice flat and uninterested, and I winced internally at how apathetic I sounded. "Makes sense for the amount of guests."
"Great idea! More variety for everyone!" she beamed. I glanced at her, and despite my lack of enthusiasm, her joy was infectious. It felt almost cruel to dampen her excitement, so I focused on making a contribution with nods and half-hearted comments while she riffled through her ideas.
As the evening wore on, I felt the tension bubbling just beneath the surface. Linna was still enthusiastic, changing topics fluidly, discussing decorations, music playlists, and whether we should hire a professional photographer or rely on a friend to capture the moments.
"I've been thinking about the cake. Do you have a flavor in mind?" she asked, tilting her head slightly as she tapped the end of her pencil against her chin.
"I don't know. Chocolate, maybe?" I replied, feeling the weight of the question land heavily on my shoulders.
"Classic choice! But how about mixing it up a bit? We could do a tiered cake with chocolate and vanilla!" She continued to list options, and I could see her eyes twinkling with ideas.
"Sounds good," I said blankly, feeling the pit in my stomach deepen.
"Why don't we ask our parents what they think? They have such good ideas!" Linna suggested, her enthusiasm unfading. It made me feel guilty, but all I could think about was the upcoming meeting, the conversations we would have about wedding logistics, and my inability to feel the excitement I should have felt.
"We should probably throw together some appetizers and drinks as well," Linna continued, oblivious to my inner turmoil. "What do you think about a cocktail hour before the reception?"
"Sure," I replied absently.
After a while, Linna fell into a brief silence, her focus shifting toward me as she noticed my quietness. I could almost see the gears turning in her head as she looked me over, her expression softening in concern.
At that moment, my heart ached. I didn't want to be this way; I wanted to share in the joy, to feel the spark of excitement like she did. But instead, the anticipation of our parents' visit and our wedding felt more like a chore than a celebration.
"Liam, are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice laced with genuine concern.
"I'm fine," I replied quickly, forcing a smile. I could see the doubt in her eyes, but I quickly redirected the conversation. "Let's just focus on these plans for now, okay?"
"Sure," she agreed, but I could tell she wasn't entirely convinced. We resumed our discussion about the menu, and although I engaged with her, the knot in my stomach remained—an unresolved feeling, a conversation that I knew needed to happen but felt too daunting to approach.
As the time rolled closer to our parents' arrival, I hoped desperately I could shake off this emptiness. I wanted to share in Linna's excitement, to revel in the planning like I used to in our dates adventures. But as we packed away the notes and plans, the weight of my uncertainty remained—looming over the joyous occasion, casting a shadow that neither I nor Linna could seem to ignore.
We finished the preparations, but the silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken thoughts. I felt an unshakable sense of apprehension, a veil over something that should have been brightness and joy, and as the meeting drew closer, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had to confront my own hidden worries before stepping into the celebration ahead.