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Dannie POV.

I blink, cover my mouth with my hand to stifle a yawn, and nod.

David picks me up, walks into the bathroom, and puts me in the tub.

I turn on the stereo to play music, take out two masks and a bottle of wine, and chat while applying them.

The atmosphere is just right. I suddenly open my eyes wide and touch him with my elbow, "Are you sending double wedding invitations to Anthony? When he and his boyfriend get married, we send double gifts, remember?"

David looks up at me and smiles.

After showering, we have breakfast together and then call the wedding planner to confirm today's schedule.

The sun shines in, gently lifting the white curtains to reveal the scenery outside. The music continues in the room and I turn to the groom, "Should we dance a little before they arrive?"

"What kind of dance?" The groom is still doing housework in front of the dishwasher.

"Waltz or ballroom," I shrug, holding out my hand to him, "but samba would work too."

"But I can't dance," the groom says, drying his hands and frowning.

"It doesn't matter," I drag his arm, "just rotate to the beat."

He puts his arms around my waist and I put my arms around his neck, our bodies very close. The music flows softly around the room as we sway to the beat. "David."

"Yes?"

"Your heart is beating fast."

"Really?" he asks in a low voice.

"Are you nervous?"

"a little."

"What's wrong with you? This is your second marriage and you're still like this."

"..." David grits his teeth and slaps my butt hard through my robe.

I feel hurt and accuse him: "Domestic violence, you started committing domestic violence before we were officially married?!"

David sneers, "Mine is a physical attack, and yours is a mental attack. So you are worse."

I can't help but chuckle.

The sudden doorbell interrupts the music - it's nine in the morning, and the stylist is here to do our makeup and dress us up.

Anthony also arrives, helping us decorate the house and deal with calls and miscellaneous tasks.

Honestly, bridal makeup is really troublesome; they even highlight my collarbones. On the contrary, David, after putting on a suit, grooming his eyebrows, and spraying some hairspray, is ready to go.

Anthony crosses his arms, leaning against the door, "I didn't realize before how good-looking David is when he dresses up."

"Not to mention his height; he looks like a movie star."

David seems uncomfortable with the compliments from men, his face suddenly blushing.

I'm uncomfortable too. Usually, when Anthony praises a man like this, it means he's planning something else with him.

So, I glare at Anthony, "You're already married; my husband is straight, so keep your distance."

"I know. I know. But you're so petty," Anthony looks at me and keeps smiling.

Then we set off for the church.

It's a bright sunny day, sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows, illuminating the suspended particles in the air.

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