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“She’d also already bought this bedazzledBridehat,” Bran said, tossing it to me.
I put it on gamely.
“And these plastic wedding ring shot glasses.”
I accepted the ring on my right hand and held out both hands to compare. My ring finger on my left hand sparkled. Even after sixteen months of wearing it, the round diamond on the thin gold band still took my breath away. The large, gaudy ornament on my right hand made me laugh, but I wouldn’t let Liv pour anything into it.
“No, I’m not going to be hungover on my wedding day.”
My wedding day. A glow that started at my toes and worked its way up filled my entire body. I was excited to spend this last night of unmarried life with my bridal party–my best friend and my brother–but I couldn’t wait for the morning. I missed Abigail already, but I saw the wisdom of letting her sleep at my parents’ house. In the morning, I would be busy getting ready with Liv and Bran for one of the biggest days of my life.
The day I officially became Mrs. Cross.
* * *
The morning dawned, bright and clear and freezing cold. Ice clung to the skeletal branches of the trees outside. The heat pumping out of the fireplace warded off the chill and put a fine mist on the windows. The casual, joyous atmosphere of the night before had hushed into something reverent and solemn.
It was my wedding day.
Liv smiled sleepily at me when I came out into the common room. She and Bran had stayed up later than me, and they were clutching warm mugs of coffee to counteract it. I made myself tea. I already had a leaping fire of excitement in my chest–I didn’t need caffeine to fan the flames.
Bran gave me a hug, and I rested in it because it was so unusual. We were close, but we didn’t hug very often. When Cecilia, our little sister, showed up, she hugged me too.
Liv put on music. She picked a random wedding playlist, and it pumped out songs from some of our favorite romantic movies. Bran rolled his eyes at it, and Cecilia asked if we could put on something more upbeat, but I loved it. We got ready to it, and even Bran and Cecilia came around. I was glad it was just the four of us in the apartment. Liv had asked if I wanted to get my hair and makeup professionally done, but I’d decided against it. We were having a casual wedding, and I wanted to look like myself when Aiden saw me in my dress for the first time.
Liv and Cecilia sat on the bed while I traded my pajamas for my wedding dress. It was a white, tea-length dress with a scooped neck and lace sleeves, and it made me feel beautiful. Liv and Cecilia were already in their blue-green dresses, and there were three bouquets lined up on Liv’s dresser.
I stepped into my high heels and turned to face them, presenting the final look. Cecilia clapped, looking faintly bored. Liv, though, teared up. “You look like a bride.”
I laughed. “That’s good, since that’s what I am.”
“I know, I just thought that since it wasn’t a full-on wedding dress, I wouldn’t cry. But here I am, and we haven’t even left the apartment yet.” Liv reached for a tissue and dabbed at her eyes, annoyed with herself.
There was a politetap tapon the bedroom door. Bran was on the other side, acting like this wasn’t basically his bedroom too.
“You can come in,” I called. “I’m dressed.”
He came in, squinting. “Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the wedding?”
“Only if you’re the groom.” Liv scooted over to make room for him on the bed.
He gave me a once over and said, “You look nice.”
Liv rolled her eyes at him. “You don’t tell the bride she looksnice, Bran. People want to look nice for their driver’s license picture or their first day of work. Brides are beautiful.”
He rolled his eyes back at her, and then they grinned at each other. I wondered if one day, a few years from now, I would be the one on the bed watching Liv getting ready forherwedding to Bran. I hoped so.
At exactly ten thirty, a sleek black town car pulled up outside Liv and Bran’s apartment building.
“It’s here,” Cecilia reported, rubbing her sleeve over the window so she could see out better.
Liv was already holding all three bouquets and both of our purses, but she looked around nervously like there was something she might be forgetting.
By contrast, I felt wonderfully and fantastically relaxed. I didn’t know you could be relaxed and excited at the same time, but you could. I was filled with a bubbling, fizzing, carbonated happiness, but I wasn’t in any hurry. We made our way downstairs, returning the smiles of the group that passed us in the stairwell.
“Best wishes,” one called down, her voice echoing in the concrete space.
“Congratulations,” another called.
