I feel like a lump of clay by the time I leave the spa. Every inch of me has been polished, scrubbed, and reshaped. We go straight to Sara's house, which is only a few streets over from the Vastano family home.
I am immediately surrounded by people, stylists, manicurists, and makeup artists, all working on me at once. I truly feel like I'm getting married, and this time, in a grand manner.
After my hair is finally pinned up in an intricate, complicated style, the stylist brings the dress to me. Just one glance, and I can tell it's as expensive as the ring on my finger. I stand up, my arms raised, spine straight, as the stylist adjusts the sequined gown over my hips.
"You are breathing too shallow," the stylist mutters, tugging gently at the fabric. "Relax. It's not going to split."
I exhale. "It's a little tight."
"Don't worry, Madam, it's meant to feel like that."
