"I said gold utensils," I pressed when Emily pushed for me to go classic and stick with the silverware. I didn't want classic, I wanted gold knives, spoons, and forks, flutes with golden rims and a silk navy tablecloth. We were done with organizing the ceremony and when I told her I didn't want any rehearsal, she tried to convince me, in which at the end, I won. Now we were in the petty part of organizing. Colors, fabrics, arrangements. Blech! "And I don't care if the tablecloth is too dark, this is my wedding, Emily. So do as I say and list down that it should be gold." "Yes, ma'am," Emily finally nodded, crossing out something from her list and scribbles. "A-and sitting arrangements? Have you planned those or do you want me to—" "I don't give a fuck where the guests sit.
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