Cliché

Epilogue

Christina's POV

Weddings are nothing even remotely close to easy as the movies make them seem.

Oh, no.

Because in movies, the bride is all excited and bouncy and full of energy; whereas I was excited and very, very happy, the nerves were getting to me. And so as I sat in the chair while the stylist did my makeup and hair, my hand reached out to grab my phone sitting on the counter.

Since the groom wasn't allowed to see the bride, as it brings bad luck, I was going to call him instead.

I dialed his number and waited. He picked up on the first ring, and I could practically feel his smile through the phone. "Hey soon-to-be Mrs. Thompson," he greeted, his voice soft and gentle, "whats up?"

"Well, I-"

"You aren't getting cold feet, are you?" he asked nervously.

"My feet are definitely on fire, don't worry," I chuckled at how nervous he was, although I couldn't exactly blame him; I was just as nervous.

He let out an audible sigh of relief, and mumbled a 'thank god' before directing his attention to me again. "So, what's wrong baby? Talk to me."

And so I did. "The nerves are just getting the best of me," I mumbled, suddenly feeling embarrassed for calling him to tell him that. "And...well, you're the only one that can calm me down." I mumbled, feeling a blush creep up my neck.

As if he could sense me being uncomfortable, I heard him shift positions as he moved the phone around. "Hey," he said gently, "don't feel shy when you need to tell me, alright? You know, I'll always be here for you, and I'll always listen to anything and everything you want to say; even if its about something like the weather, per say."

I laughed and felt instantly better, and I didn't hesitate in telling him that. He took my mind off of the nerves for the time being, and we reluctantly had to end the call as I needed to put the dress on, as he needed to get ready himself. We hung up, but not before promising to see each other in a few hours.

Mary and my mum had entered the room, laughing and gossiping like teenage girls, followed by Jasmine, my maid of honor, and Belle, along with a few other girls from school as my bridesmaids.

Belle and I had made up a few months after Blake proposed, when she unexpectedly showed up at my house with an apology. And when I saw the tears in her eyes, as well as the sincerity laced in her eyes, I knew she meant it.

As soon as I stepped out of the dressing area, the once silent room had transformed into a mixture of squeals, tears, more squeals, and even more tears. When everyone managed to calm themselves, they gushed at how beautiful the dress was, and I received endless compliments of how good I looked in the dress.

Blushing from all the compliments and words of endearment, I thanked everyone and hugged each and every one of them, swallowing back my own tears.

If Susan knew I messed up the makeup, well let's just say Susan wouldn't be a bundle of sunshine.

I walked over to the full-length mirror and looked at my appearance again, when sudden whispers from behind me peaked my curiosity. I looked in the mirror to where my mum and Mary were seated on the edge of the cushioned bench, whispering. I pretended to fix my dress near the bottom, but I was actually trying to hear what they were not-so-quietly talking about.

"Oh please," Mary whisper-yelled, "it was so obvious he loved her from the second he laid eyes on her."

"Yeah? Well, I called it when he proposed to her at the wedding!" my mum whispered back, "now, I do believe you owe me 20 bucks."