The circle isn’t complete, though. One end tapers off, and the other forms a snake’s head—a snake that’s just spit out its own tale.
It’s a broken cycle. It’s destruction and chaos. It’sRagnarök. It’s the end of something that seemed infinite, and it’s the start of what comes next.
I got it the day after Cole proposed.
“You love him,” Monroe says, “and he loves you. All you have to do today is go out there and tell him that.”
I throw my arms around her neck and pull her close.
“Awwww, cute!” a loud French accent calls out at the door. “I want to hugla mariéetoo!”
Before I know it, DeeDee’s pink hair is nearly suffocating me as she wraps herself around Monroe and I.
I hear someone else sigh as the door closes. “I guess that means I have to get in on this too.”
Kay completes the group hug, and we all break apart, laughing and wiping our eyes.
“You look incredible,” Kay tells me. “Cole’s going to have a heart attack.”
“But first you need to let me fix your hair.”
DeeDee gets to work adjusting bobby pins and curls while Monroe does up the zipper at the back of my dress. When they’re done fussing with me, they step back so we can all check ourselves out in the mirror.
The three of them are wearing matching green floor-length dresses, with leaf crowns in their hair like the one I have on. They all look so incredibly beautiful, with wide smiles and bright eyes. I feel my panic start to settle down as Kay squeezes my shoulder and DeeDee smoothes out the layers of my dress’s chiffon skirt.
“It really is the perfect dress,” Kay admires.
“Never thought I’d see you in white,” Monroe adds.
I kept joking about wearing black, and I was so close to actually going through with it, but Monroe pulled me into a bridal boutique on a whim as we were walking to lunch together one day, and there was my dress.
The simple skirt flows all the way to floor, with just a few inches of a train. It’s the bodice that’s the real showpiece, with delicate lace cap sleeves and a beautiful beaded overlay, but that’s not what made me run my hands over it in the store and know it wasmine.
At first glance, it looks like any other white wedding dress, but when the fabric shifts as I move, the hue of the under-layer sparkles beneath.
Gold, just like the sunrise. My favourite colour.
There’s a knock on the door. It opens a few inches before I recognize Matt’s voice calling out, “They, uh, sent me to come get you all. We’re starting.”
My bridesmaids all squeal and make totally unnecessary last-minute adjustments to their outfits before heading to the door.
“You coming?” Kay asks.
“I just want a minute,” I assure them.
Kay flashes me a thumbs up, and Monroe squeezes my shoulder one last time before they go. DeeDee pauses just before she’s about to step into the hall.
“Voilà, ma belle!” she exclaims, as she digs around in her clutch and triumphantly pulls out a mini bottle of whiskey. “One for the road, eh?”
It’s what she always says to get people to buy more shots at Taverne Toulouse.
“À la tienne!” I toast her, holding up the bottle in a salute as she snickers and leaves the room.
I twist the cap off and down the shot’s worth of liquor in one go, relishing the burn of it in my throat.
“Okay, Nadeau,” I tell my reflection, “time to go get married.”
I always pictured myself getting married in a church. In the depths of my most embarrassing wedding photo binges on Pinterest, I’d envision what it would be like to walk down the aisle of Saint Patrick’s Basilica, the painted arches towering high over everyone’s heads, organ music echoing through the pews. I still feel weirdly guilty about having a secular ceremony, but overall it seemed like the best choice.
