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TWO MONTHS LATER
I’m trembling so hard I can’t even scratch my face without almost poking an eye out.
“Stop doing that!” Jordan grabs my hands and pins them to my sides. “You’ll ruin your makeup.”
“My makeup is already ruined.”
I’ve been crying on and off all morning.
When I unzipped the garment bag that held my dress: tears.
When Jorden and Anya came out in their bridesmaids dresses: tears.
When I asked for a latte and Yasha brought me decaf because “you do not need the extra energy. You’re about to buzz out of your skin”: tears.
In my defense, I was so nervous last night that I couldn’t sleep. I’m exhausted and anxious and—
“I don’t know if I can do this.” It’s the first time I’ve let myself say the words out loud.
Jorden frowns but, with her smokey eyeshadow and bronzer, it looks like she’s posing for a magazine. “Can’t do what? Scratch your eye?”
“Get married!” I blurt. I spin away from her and immediately trip on the train of my dress. It takes me a second to extricate my heel from the lace and stand tall again.
When I do, Jorden is gaping at me. I wonder what lipstick she’s wearing. It’s flawless. “You don’t want to marry Ivan?”
“What? Yes! I mean—No. Er, I do want to marry him. Of course I do! I love him.”
She presses a hand to her chest. “Oh, thank God. I wouldnotwant to be the person who had to deliver that news to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Felonious.”
“I want to marry him; I just don’t know if I can. I mean, I can’t walk in this dress. It’s only been an hour and I’ve already smudged my lipstick, cracked a nail, and lost a pin in my hair. I’m just not made for all of this.” I pick up the layers of intricately embroidered lace that cinch around my waist and fall to the floor in delicate ripples. “I’m not a princess.”
“Uh, yeah, you are. You’re as close as most people are ever gonna get, anyway. Plus, you picked all of this—the dress, the hair, the makeup. Ivan told you he’d get married in the kitchen with Niles as officiant if you wanted.”
“Maybe I should have taken him up on that,” I mutter.
A small ceremony would’ve meant fewer witnesses when I inevitably faceplant in the aisle or recite my vows with lipstick on my teeth.
Jorden steps in front of me and grabs me by the shoulders. “Let’s break it down. Question one: do you love him?”
That’s an easy one. “Of course I do. More than anything.”
“Excellent.” She smiles. “Question two: are you sure you want to marry him?”
That’s a slam dunk, too. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”
“Then,girl—” She spins me towards the full length mirror behind me, her head peeking over my shoulder— “stop freaking out and enjoy what should be the best damn day of your life.”
All at once, the fears and worries fall away.
Maybe I will land on my face in front of everyone. Maybe all of my nails will chip and I’ll lose an eyelash and my dress will get stuck in a door. As long as I end the day married to the man I love, nothing else matters.
Suddenly, Jorden pecks my cheek and whispers in my ear, “I’m going to make myself scarce. I’ll be back before the ceremony.”
I frown. “What? Why? Where are you—”
But she is already hustling away… past Ivan, who is standing in the doorway.
Jorden ducks out behind him without a peep. I’ve never loved her more.
