Dreaming

Tom has proposed. We are in a shop looking at bridesmaid dresses for the girls. All around us are men’s suits. I choose some that I dislike, then realise that if Tom likes them, that will be the colour scheme we will have, as Tom always chooses what he wants.

The colour is burgundy, which I hate. I realise that I haven’t even told him if I want to marry him, yet we are choosing wedding stuff.  I am going along with it as I feel I have to, like I have no choice.