Holy shit.

I can’t believe we’re here.

“Allison, did you see that?”

Allison only rolls her eyes and nods.

Okay, so I’ve been saying “Did you see that?” for the last hour or so…actually, since we left home.

I mean this is the first time I’ve travelled to Europe—or anywhere, really.

Well, maybe not anywhere, but anywhere for pleasure.

So far, my life’s been one beauty pageant after another, and one long diet. Since we left home, I’ve already eaten more than I usually do in a month.

It feels great.

Goodbye and farewell forever, beauty pageants.

“Yes, Nicole, I did,” she says and gives me a playful slap on my shoulder. “And yes, I’ve seen that, and that, and that.”

“I still can’t believe we’re here, Ally. I mean Venice, the city of…”

I stop.

“Water canals, opera, and Carnevale de Venezia,” my best friend finishes for me.

I nod. I’m so excited, I think any second I might pee myself.

It’s a pity Ryan won’t arrive till tomorrow.

“And we’re staying at the Aman Grand Canal,” I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I’ve studied its website sooo closely, I could recite the description word for word if I had to.

The Aman is as exquisite as the city of Venice itself. It’s fair to say it embodies Venice.

The hotel is set in a sixteenth century palazzo on the Grand Canal of Venice. It’s home to museum quality treasures, including Tiepolo frescoes, gilded ceilings, and century-old leather wall coverings.

I clap my hands, excitement swooping through me.

“Did I mention the Clooneys got married there?”

Ally nods and takes a photo of me with her phone.

“Here,” she holds the little device toward me. “Take a look at yourself. If you’re not careful, that smile of yours will stay like that forever, and you know Ryan won’t approve since he doesn’t like you smiling too much.”

I frown. “When did he say that?”

“It’s not when—it’s how. He’s always telling you what not to do and what to do. I’m sure he’s told you not to smile so much. And if he hasn’t he would right now, trust me.”

Her words hurt. I know she doesn’t like Ryan, my husband to be, but I can’t understand why she insists on dragging him down like that every opportunity she gets.

“Come on, Ally. That’s not fair. Ryan’s paying for all this, including our stay at the most exclusive suites the Aman has to offer.”

Her comments leave me no choice but to defend my fiancé.

She rolls her eyes.

“So what? He’s a billionaire. That’s the least he should be doing. If it were any future husband of mine, he’d be doing a whole lot more.”

After I mull over her words, I need to ask the obvious.

“Like what?”

“Seriously Nic? For starters, he’d need to ask me what I want to do, and then do exactly what I tell him. I’d make sure I’d tell him about my passion for art, drawing, and paintings. Then, I’d tell him to get me to wherever it is I wanted to go by private jet and have me picked up in a red Ferrari.”

“Stop.” I hold up my hand and chuckle. “I didn’t know you were into art and drawing.”

“I’m not,” she interrupts me. “You are, and he doesn’t like you doing it. And don’t deny it.”

For a while, I say nothing.

“You ladies waiting for a gondola?” an incredibly good-looking Italian asks as he pulls up along the water where we’re waiting.

“Sure are,” Allison replies before I get a chance.

She hops in before me too.

“Where two my lovely goddesses?”

I notice the eyes Ally makes at this man and chuckle inwardly.

“The Aman,” she purrs and sits close to him.

As if I’m any competition. In about two days time, I’m going to be walking down the aisle in this very city. What started as our spring vacation soon turned into a wedding trip after Ryan proposed out of the blue and insisted we marry straight away.

It was Allison who talked me out of agreeing to marry back home and tell my husband to be that if he wanted to marry me, it was in Venice or not all.

Well, I didn’t quite use those words. But in the end, I did convince Ryan to come to Venice and marry me here.

Secretly, I’m grateful to Allison for convincing me to get married here. From the little I’ve seen so far, I’m totally in love with the city. The water canals are just magnificent, and the houses lining them are so old and full of character.

The slumbering artist in me can’t wait to get my hands on a sketchpad and start drawing all these magnificent sights my eyes are currently feasting on. Cobblestone footpaths, ornate bridges, and tiny alleyways are just some of what takes my fancy.

There’s so much to look at I almost feel as if my senses are being over loaded. Suddenly, I understand why this city attracts the artists, the poets, and the writers. It speaks to us.

Deep down I’m an artist, and I understand the city.

“You know, it’s not too late.”

Allison’s words rouse me out of my reverie.

“What’s not too late?”

“Saying you don’t want to marry him.” She gives me a little slap on the shoulder. “Look at yourself. You’re having a ball. Why tie yourself to that dickhead?”

“Ally,” I shake my head. I don’t know what’s got into my best friend and maid of honor. She’s not usually like this at all.

“Ryan’s great. He’s…” I search for the right words.

“There you go, even you can’t say much good about him. He’s a selfish, slightly narcissistic individual who’s only marrying you for your looks. He wants a trophy wife.”

“No.”

I protest and realize I spoke a little too loud. The Italian gondolier is looking at me.

“He’s none of those things. Just because he gives me guidance and direction in my life doesn’t mean he’s controlling.” I keep my voice a little lower.

“Is that what you call it? Guidance my ass. He even tells you what you can and can’t eat. He doesn’t let you drink alcohol and all the while, he drinks enough for the two of you.”

“Stop.” I hold up my hand. “First, most people have been telling me what I can and can’t eat all my life. At least since I started entering all those beauty pageants. Second, he’s just looking out for me. And—”

I’ve run out of things to say.

Besides, I’ve just seen us turn into the Grand Canal, and I can see the hotel come into view.

I hold my breath.

It’s even more magnificent in real life than on the Internet.

The pictures can’t do it justice.

I must sketch it. I vow I’ll do it before Ryan gets here. Surely there’s going to be a place in this city where I can purchase some sketching pencils and a drawing pad.

“Look.” I grab Allison by the elbow. “We’re nearly here.”

“Promise me you’ll think about it.”

Instead of an answer, I wrap my arms around her and hug her tightly.

“Let’s not talk about it Ally. Let’s just have fun. Please?”

I give her my best puppy dog eyes and feel my heart lighten when she smiles.

The gondola glides slowly toward our destination. With each passing moment, we draw nearer to the magnificent old building; I feel my heart beat a little faster.

I’m almost tempted to tell Allison to pinch me, to make sure this isn’t some dream I’m having; to make sure I’m really in Venice about to embark at one of the most exclusive hotels.

Our gondola has slowed right down. It allows me to ponder the wonder of the city a little longer before I’m going to be overwhelmed by the sheer magnificence of the hotel.

It occurs to me the city is like an M.C. Escher moving set of staircases. Elaborate and interesting on the eye.

Tiny canals and alleyways crisscross through this magnificent medieval city. One minute you’re staring at lonely cobblestones, and then, a busy market scene assaults your senses. And all of this can be seen from the waterways.

Briefly, I imagine how great it would be to live here and go to work by water taxi every single day. Would the novelty wear off?

I shake my head, answering my own question.

It couldn’t. Something as unique as this could never be boring.

I see our gondolier steer past a boat atop which is a small round table with a couple sitting around it. Between them is a bottle of wine, and they’re about to toast each other.

Would Ryan take me on a little luncheon in a boat after we’re married?

I recall he said he only had a few days to spare so not to plan too much after the wedding.

With a sigh, I try and push Allison’s words from earlier out of my mind.

She was simply wrong.

Ryan was nice.