Shiloh
Three YearsLater
“Mother, stop, it’s fine.”Bianca purses her lips, but wisely keeps her mouth shut as I jerk every diamond encrusted bobby pin she just shoved into my veil and toss them on thedesk.
“I was just trying to secure it,darling.”
“No, you were trying to make my head look like a disco ball. I want everything simple. The ceremony is simple, the reception is simple, my dress is simple, and yes, Mother, my veil issimple.”
“Can’t it be your somethingnew?”
I lift my dress and twirl my foot, showing off the ridiculously expensive pair of Christian Louboutins Lena insisted Iwear.
She sighs. “Okay, how about somethingborrowed?”
Lifting my dress higher, I snap my antique garter Cary’s mom gave to me last night at the rehearsaldinner.
“Somethingold?”
Running my fingers along the silver chain on my neck, I lift the pendant in the palm of my hand. A diamond encrusted cursive K. “It was Kirkland’s. I got it in the mail a few weeks ago from her mother. All the note said was that she’d want me to haveit.”
Bianca just nods, her eyes glistening as she pats the base of her nose with a tissue and forces a smile. “Well, I suppose that’s allthen.”
“Not everything. I still needed somethingblue.”
“Oh no! Shiloh, the ceremony’s about to start. I don’t know where we’re going to findsomething—”
Laying a hand on hers, I stop her mid-pace. “What’s the one thing you always told me about a woman’saccessories?”
“As long as a woman wears expensive shoes, carries a designer purse, and manicures her nails to perfection, she can conquer theworld.”
Lifting my hand, I wiggle my fingers, showing off my light blue manicure, complete with a tiny cursive BW stenciled in the corner of the third nail of my right hand. “You may think I never listened to you, but I did. Something blue andwise.”
She dabs her eyes with a tissue. “I can’t believe my little girl is gettingmarried.”
“Mother, I’m twenty-eight. I’m hardlylittle.”
“Darling, you could be fifty and you’ll still be my littlegirl.”
Her words bring up a question I’ve avoided. “Did Alistair get theinvitation?”
The warmth in her face cools upon hearing my father’s name. “I assume so. I sent it to the last address I had forhim.”
I nod, leaving the rest unspoken. I didn’t really expect my father to show up for my wedding, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t hope he’d come to his senses. It doesn’t matter either way. I don’t need him to walk me down the aisle, and I sure as hell don’t need him sitting in the front row for me to marry the man of mydreams.
The doorknob clicks and Lena sticks her head inside, still wearing the permagrin she’s sported since her plane landed three days ago. “Hey, dollface, consider this your five-minute warning—oh my God, you look so beautiful! Shit, I think I’m going tocry.”
“No!” I yell, pointing a blue-tipped finger at her. “If you cry, then I cry, then all this is ruined.” Turning my finger around, I circle it around the outside of myface.
Lena fans her expensive eyelashes and looks up at the ceiling in an almost comical attempt to control her emotions. “Okay. Okay, I’ve got it. I’m fine.” She shoots me her best camera-ready smile, her chin wobbling as her eyes well up again. “Nope,” she says, shaking her head and backing away. “Nope, I don’t. See you at thealtar.”
Bianca cocks her head and stares at the closed door. “She’s an interestingwoman.”
I laugh, glancing one last time into the mirror we rigged onto Cary’s desk. “Do I lookokay?”
We both gaze at my reflection until Bianca picks up a tube of concealer from the desk and holds it out to me. “You may want to touch up your makeup. Your scars areshowing.”
The tube is so small. Most people wouldn’t think of a tube so small as being such a huge mountain to overcome. A crutch. An addiction just as powerful as any drug out there. Most people haven’t lived a thousand lives, stared them in the face, and walkedaway.
