She knew why that day mattered.
It didn’t help.
From then on, whenever the wedding came up, so did dress shopping.
She knew why that day mattered.
Nathan kept trying to reassure her that she wasn’t being pushed out. I knew we’d arranged one small surprise for her at the reception, but Isabella didn’t.
***
At the rehearsal, she finally saw the dress hanging in the bridal room.
Her attention went straight to the lace train.
We’d arranged one small surprise for her at the reception.
“That’s what you chose?”
“I love it,” I said.
“It’s very… dramatic.”
Then she laughed.
“Just don’t expect everyone to spend the day watching where they step.”
I rolled my eyes after she left.
“That’s what you chose?”
I had more important things to worry about, like whether Mom would have enough energy to make it through the reception.
In retrospect, I’d been budgeting for the wrong emergency.
***
The ceremony was everything I wanted.
Mom sat in the first row.
The ceremony was everything I wanted.
Nathan cried before I did, which I planned to remind him about for the rest of our marriage.
My dress survived the aisle, family pictures, hugs from relatives wearing dangerous amounts of jewelry, and one five-year-old flower girl who stepped on the hem twice.
