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My therapists’ words stare at me from the piece of paper she wrote them on a few days ago. I may have spent my entire session losing tiny pieces of my mind, and ended up having a panic attack over the stress of worrying that everything was organised. I haven’t had one of those for years.
When I managed to pull it back together, taking slow and steady breaths again. My therapist wrote this note and said it would give me something to focus on today just in case I feel overwhelmed again. She suggested I read the note and regain my focus before it slips. It was helping.
This moment has been years in the planning, at least in my head, but in reality, it had taken Nora, Zoey and me two weeks of late nights, rushed phone calls and at least one bottle of tequila between us all, and it’s all come down to today.
Every single white rose has been pruned by yours truly. Every inch of the ceiling is covered in white drapes. Every chair is perfectly placed against the white table linens. I spoke to the band an hour ago in the bar and they have sound checked already. The raffle and silent auction are ready to go too.
Everything is set.
I straighten my long dress with slow, nervous strokes, letting my lungs fill completely before exhaling again.
This really is it. The start of something I’ve been dreaming about since university. Goosebumps rise over my arms and my eyes fill with the enormity of everything I’ve been able to do and will do in the future.
Nora and I have been fussed over all day by hairstylists and makeup artists. I would’ve been happy to glam myself up, but Zoey and Nora insisted that we were pampered, and we really have been. I barely recognize my reflection staring back at me.
A long, black satin, figure fitting gown with thin straps that sit on the edge of my shoulders, accentuating my curves. My chestnut hair looks like it has streaks of gold as it tumbles down my back in loose curls. My blue eyes are bright and encased with soft smoky make up.
“Good lord, Jess, you look fucking hot!” Nora’s mouth gapes as she looks me over.
I give her a little excited wiggle and smile at my best friend, who looks her own kind of hot.
“Ehh, you scrub up alright too.” I wink at her, she barely wears her hair down, usually opting for it to be pulled back off her face. She says it’s because when she writes notes with her therapy clients, it stops her hair falling into her eyes. So, right now, with her hair sleek and straight, she looks stunning.
We both look at our reflections once more, contrasting in our black and red dresses. Nora grabs her phone and flips the camera onto us. We pose for a few pictures and send them to Zoey with the captionReady for this?and a winking emoji. Zoey replies almost immediately with a picture of her in a short, black, high neck dress and her caption reads,Ready for the main event baby!
I tug Nora’s arm and remind her we need to head downstairs before any of the guests arrive.
“Hey, are you okay?” Nora stops me as I press the button to the lift.
I tilt my head. “I’m good. Nervous maybe, but good. Are you okay?”
She nods. “I just want to make sure you know if you need me tonight, if things get overwhelming…” the lift pings in front of us, alerting us of its arrival.
“I’m good, I promise,” I say, leading Nora by hand through the metal doors.
As we walk from the lift, through the foyer towards the ballroom, there are people dotted around wearing ball gowns and black-tie tuxedos. It feels like a movie set and my heart stutters in my chest at how real this feels.
“Girls, that picture did nothing to show how bloody hot you are in real life. Come here, let me squeeze you both.” Zoey rushes over, wrapping us both in her arms.
“Jessica?” My assistant Kylie gets my attention as she stands in front of the ballroom doors, waiting to let us in to do final checks.
Zoey releases us and looks between Nora and me before squealing, “Let’s do this.”
I can’t hold back my giant smile as I nod to Kylie to open the doors for us.
I saw the room earlier and, I planned everything down to the knives and forks on the tables, but seeing everything like this in front of me, minutes away from it actually happening, gives me shivers.
The Clover’s ballroom is beautiful as it usually is, but now… now I’m speechless.
The three-tiered ceiling looks endless as the white, sheer, soft drapes bellow from a height before gently dusting the tops of the glistening chandeliers that line the centre of the room. The art deco framed windows accent each light fixture perfectly, making the room glow softly. The tables are littered with white roses and eucalyptus, the muted green colour balancing out the white tablecloths as each centre piece emulates a waterfall of falling flowers.
It smells fresh and sweet and I inhale deeply, enjoying the scent.
I click my heels on to the white, sparkling floor that looks like it holds a thousand fireflies underneath it. The stage commands enough attention without detracting from the room and I let my fingers run over the edges of the speakers that sit at the front of it before spinning around to take it all in once more.
The cream and gold chairs pick up the gold cutlery and gold stemmed wine glasses carefully placed on each table.
Every single thing is perfect.
