Chapter Fifty

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Five months later

"I'm back! I couldn't find anything old, but I did find something blue," I say as I enter the all-white, hectic room in the back of the church.

Delia and Catherine turn their heads to watch me scurry over to the anxious bride. The lights in here are gleaming and combined with the sun glaring through the windows, I'm afraid we'll all sweat our makeup off. But to prevent such occurrences, there are two fans running, one directly on the bride to keep her intact more. Her makeup is light and highlights her natural beauty, but the ends of her hair are a bit frayed, a result of the nervous tugging she's been doing all morning.

"Thank goodness you found something. I was beginning to panic," Delia sighs and turns to the vanity mirror, allowing me access to pin the blue buttery clip one of her aunts pulled out of her own hair and let us borrow. Now we have something blue and borrowed. We're only missing something old.

"You don't say," I tease as I flicker my eyes to the ends of her hair.

She blushes and attempts to fix the small mess. "I'm sorry, I can't help it. I'm nervous."

"What are you nervous for? You know Elliot is dying to marry you." I grab the brush off the vanity and carefully drag it through her neatly curled and pinned up hair.

"If it makes you feel any better, Elliot was a blubbering mess on the way here," Catherine adds. "He wouldn't stop talking about how lucky he is to have you, and how excited he is to finally meet you at the altar."

"What if he changed his mind and isn't there when I arrive?" Delia voices her, and other brides, natural fear.

"He will be there. If he isn't, I'll track him down and feed him to the fishes," I joke, and they laugh. I brush through her shiny golden curls and watch her wring her hands out in the mirror's reflection. She is the picture-perfect definition of anxious. "Stop biting your lip, you'll ruin your lipstick," I lightly demand, and she stops immediately.

"Are you sure we shouldn't wait a year or two until we get married? We only knew each other for a few months before he proposed. My mother always told me how fast I was to jump at everything. What if this is one of those times?" Delia asks.

"There isn't a wrong time to get married, nor can you marry 'too early.' When it's right and with the person you're meant to spend your life with, it is the right thing to do and on your own time," Catherine says softly. "When they're the one, they're the one, and there's hardly anything you can do about it... do you love Elliot?"

"More than anything in the world." Delia smiles with tears glistening in her blue eyes. Tears of my own appear and I rush over the table for napkins for the both of us. She laughs as I carefully dab at her tears, then turn and wipe my own away.

"Will you two quit it? You're going to make me cry... again," Catherine says and sniffles. The seven-months pregnant woman has been an emotional mess the entire morning along with the stunning bride. Someone should have known better not to combine an emotional pregnant woman and a high-strung bride. I feel like the designated tear-wiper of the trio.

"Is this a crying party, or what?" Delia's mother, Vivian, says playfully as the enters the room.

"Trust me, I am trying my best to break it up." I chuckle and re-adjust Delia's glittering tiara-veil. It trails on the ground behind her poofy dress. She has an enchanting smile on her lips, and I am momentarily blinded by how gorgeous she is. Elliot is an extremely lucky man.

Holly, Catherine's younger sister squeals as she appears behind her mother. "You are such a beautiful bride."

"Everyone says that, and you saw me before you left five minutes ago." Delia laughs and walks into her bubbly sister's wide-open arms.

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