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Lisa’s team did a fantastic job camouflaging my tired eyes and skin. The dress is gorgeous, an elegant A-line gown with soft lace detail running along the bodice and sleeves.
The fabric is light and delicate, the lace just the right touch of femininity without being too fussy. The skirt flows to the floor, classic and understated. It’s simple, yet timeless. Exactly what I wanted.
“I just wish your father was here,” Mom says.
I swallow hard. I don’t wish the same. If my father were well, none of this would be happening. I wouldn’t be marrying Andrew for convenience, wouldn’t even consider it. And I know my father would never have agreed to something like this.
The thought makes my own eyes burn, but I push the emotions away. I need to be strong—for my mother, for my family. The reality is harsh, but I can’t let myself wallow in it now. So I step forward, wrapping my arms around her, trying to buoy her up as best as I can.
“I know, Mom,” I say gently. “But he’s with us in spirit.”
She nods, wiping away her tears, and gives me a brave smile. She reaches for the veil. Made of soft tulle and tiny lace appliqués, it complicates my dress in its simplicity.
I sit down and she carefully places it over my head, adjusting it gently. The veil falls into place, framing my face, making the moment feel suddenly very real.
“I’m getting married,” I say, sudden joy coming over me. For today, I’ll pretend that this marriage is real and I’ll enjoy every bit of it.
My mom and Lisa laugh.
“You look perfect,” Mom says, stepping back to admire me.
“You’re glowing,” Lisa says.
A knock comes on the door. Barbara peers in. “It’s time.”
I smile at her. “We’ll be down shortly.”
I stand up and Lisa and I lock gazes before she wraps her arms around me.
“It’s going to be an awesome day,” I tell her.
“It will,” she murmurs back.
The three of us make our way downstairs, the sound of our footsteps muted by the soft carpet. The moment we step outside, I’m greeted by the sight of the backyard, now transformed into a stunning wedding venue. Barbara has outdone herself.
White roses and soft greenery cascade from tall floral arrangements that line the makeshift aisle. Fairy lights twinkle from above, strung between trees. The Bennett Estate’s sprawling lawn stretches out beneath us, now a picture-perfect setting.
Each chair has a small bouquet of white flowers tied to it, facing a beautiful wooden arch draped in more roses and sheer, flowing fabric. The petals scattered along the aisle create a soft, romantic path, leading toward Andrew, who’s already standing at the altar.
Lisa squeezes my hand once before she steps forward, her dress shimmering as she moves down the aisle.
I turn to my mother standing beside me, and she links her arm through mine. We begin our walk down the aisle together. For the first time today, I let myself breathe deeply, taking in the beauty of the moment.
The few guests gathered for the ceremony are mostly from Andrew’s side, less than twenty people, none of whom I know.
Thank God Daniel isn’t here. Now that would have been awkward. I can’t imagine exchanging vows with Andrew while his brother, the original groom-to-be, stood watching. At least that’s one uncomfortable situation I’ve been spared.
As we move down the aisle, I steal a glance at Andrew. He’s standing tall, dressed in a sleek tuxedo, his gaze locked on me.
My mother squeezes my arm gently, and I glance at her. She’s smiling, her eyes bright with emotion. We reach the end of the aisle, and she leans in, kissing my cheek softly before letting go.
Andrew steps forward, offering me his hand as I take the final step toward the altar. The officiant begins speaking, but my mind drifts as I stand beside Andrew.
I catch glimpses of the guests—strangers, mostly, save for Lisa and my mother. Everyone is watching, but it’s almost as if I’m not truly present, like I’m walking through a scene in a play.
The vows come next.
The officiant’s voice rings out, “Andrew, repeat after me.”