Simona Smith
The Bride
Forever begins in…
Two souls, one story
The Bride
The Groom
every love story is beautiful, ours is my favourite
First It began the way most good things in our families do: over tea and a very long phone call. Simona's aunt had known Rafael's mother since their college days, and one quiet afternoon a photograph made its way across a dining table in London. We were told to "just talk once, no pressure." That one conversation ran past midnight — work, ambition, the kind of home each of us wanted to build one day. Somewhere in there we forgot it was supposed to be a formality. Two weeks later both families sat in the same living room, politely discussing dates and horoscopes, while the two of us sat across from each other already knowing exactly how this was going to end.
There was a long silence first. That's what we both remember — not the kiss, but the quiet that came before it, stretched thin and humming, the city carrying on somewhere below us. Simona looked up. Rafael didn't look away. The night was warm and smelled faintly of rain that hadn't arrived yet. Afterwards, neither of us said anything for a while, because anything said would have been smaller than the moment. We simply stood there, two people who had just quietly agreed to change the shape of their lives, listening to the traffic below and pretending to be calm.
First The families had already spoken. The date had almost been fixed. By every practical measure, it was settled — and that is exactly why Rafael wanted to ask properly, just once, with nobody else in the room. It happened at home, in the kitchen, on an unremarkable Sunday, with Rafael's hands shaking around a very small box and a speech that fell apart in the second sentence. Simona said yes before the question was fully out. We told the families that evening and let them believe they'd arranged all of it. They had, mostly. But that one small moment, unwitnessed and entirely our own, is the one we'll keep.
The plan was coffee. One hour, low commitment, easy exit. We left that café at 4pm, walked to a bookstore, argued about the ending of a novel neither of us had finished, ate golgappa from a cart, disagreed about the chutney, and were still talking at 11pm outside Rafael's gate. Total duration: nine hours. Simona claims to have been effortlessly charming. Security footage would suggest otherwise. At some point we ran out of things to say and just stood there grinning like idiots, which is when both of us privately understood we were in significant trouble.
a thousand little forevers
Sending the invites…