Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
By the time the sun is just reaching the top of the sky, I’ll be too exhausted to even stand, and by the time it lowers back down to the horizon, I won’t be able to keep my eyes open. If we opted for a starlight ceremony like I’d always imagined, I would have only been able to enjoy it for an hour or two. This way, I get to take my time and soak up every last second—even if it means asking my family to wake up before dawn.
A soft knock sounds at my door, and I turn to find Mom beaming at me with glassy eyes. “Are you ready to start?” she murmurs, her voice filling my room with nothing but unconditional love.
I nod, glad that I get to relax and sit down through this part. “Born ready,” I tell her as butterflies dance through my stomach.
I make my way back to my bed, knowing Hazel is about to come in and bombard me with makeup, and as I drop down, I can’t help but glance toward Noah’s empty side. He stuck to tradition and snuck out early so he wouldn’t see me the morning of our wedding, and while I love that about him, I also hated not waking up in the warmth of his strong arms. It’s daunting that I don’t know how many mornings I have left to open my eyes to him, but I know from this day on, I will never have to wake up alone again.
Just as expected, Hazel shows up only moments later and doesn’t waste a single second. She dives straight into my makeup, going the extra mile to make sure I’m pampered at the same time. Hope turns up halfway through makeup, and seeing just how gifted Hazel is in this department, demands that she does hers too, which Hazel is more than happy to cater to.
Without hair to worry about, getting ready doesn’t take long, and before I know it, Mom and Hope are helping me into my dress as I gaze at myself in the mirror. It’s a beautiful silk gown with delicate beaded straps and a plunging back, soft and flowy, that perfectly accentuates what little curves I have left. The gown trails down to a small train, the material gathered at my feet, and while it’s not exactly the extravagant gown I pictured for myself, it’s beautiful all the same.
I always wanted something covered in beading with a long train, but I’m simply not strong enough to bear the weight of a gown like that anymore. Looking at myself now, taking in the subtleness, the soft lace, and the headband veil that falls like a gentle summer breeze over my face, I realize that nothing could have been better. It’s absolutely perfect, but what makes it better is knowing that this will be the dress Noah always remembers me in. This very moment will live in his memories, treasured and cherished until the end of time.
When I’m ready, my dad appears at the door, his soft intake of breath drawing my attention. I glance up, peering at my father across the room, a small smile stretching across my glossy lips. “Hi Daddy,” I whisper.
A single tear falls from his eye as he wanders toward me, not stopping until he’s standing right in front of me. He gently collects my veil between his fingers and lifts it over my head, letting it fall back behind me. “You’re absolutely breathtaking,” he tells me, his fingers gently brushing over my cheek. “You truly are an angel sent from the heavens.”
I smile up at my father, willing myself not to cry. “You’re walking me down the aisle, right?”
“There’s no greater honor for a father than to give his daughter away on her wedding day,” he whispers. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”
My cheeks flush, and for a fleeting moment, I feel like that same little girl who used to dress up in Mom’s old wedding gown without a single care in the world. I would make Dad walk me down the aisle and give me away to Hazel, who was forced to step in as the groom when Noah had enough of playing weddings. It’s surreal to think that we’re right back there again, only this time, it’s for real, and no one is playing.
“You won’t let me fall?”
“Never,” Dad murmurs before reaching back around me and gathering my veil once again. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my cheek before meeting my eyes. “I love you, Zo. You’re always going to be my sweet angel, my little girl.”
I can’t keep the tears from falling and he hastily wipes them away before finally lowering my veil back into place. “Let’s go get you married,” he says, and with that, he steps in beside me, his arm folding right around my waist. I place my hand over his, and as Hazel collects the bouquet of tulips, made out of the dozens Noah has gifted me over these past few weeks, one each and every day without fail.