Emily stands alone in her dressing room, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Despite the attempt to calm herself down, her breathing is ragged and uncontrolled. With a trembling body and uneasy stomach, churning with all of her doubts, she looks up at the ceiling to stop tears from ruining her makeup—Bree, Emily's maid of honor, will be livid if she does.
Finally able to push back the threatening tears, Emily lowers her head to stare at herself in the mirror once more. She wears a dress, all white, with lace features in the pattern of vines reaching down to her waist, where the skirt puffs out into layers of tulle. In every way, this was the dress Emily knew she would be married in. From the moment she saw it to trying it on, she could imagine standing at the alter with her fiancé to marry him.
The past, however, has a much different idea. Memories she had long resolved—or so she thought—surface and infest her mind with doubt. The idea of marriage makes her feel trapped inside herself, unable to leave if things go wrong, trusting someone enough to legally bind their love, to share everything. What if it is all a lie? What if the perfect man for her is just a facade and everything was bound to change?
Emily's lip quivers and her stomach tightens, thinking of her fiancé, Chris, waiting at the alter for her any minute now. She loves him, she's sure of that. After everything they've been through together and all the fears she's faced about relationships and intimacy had all been with him, the only man she's ever trusted or loved. Somehow though, her mind still fights against her and screams it is destined to go wrong.
I can't. Emily repeats to herself mentally. I can't. I can't. I can't.
She quickly surveys the room, and in a split second decision, books it to the window. Thoughts race passed her, wondering if Chris will understand or forgive her, if they will be able to work past this like they have everything else.
As she unlocks the window and pushes it open, a handsome and freshly groomed face is smiling back at her.
"I'm hoping you saw me coming up this tree. Otherwise, it would mean you're trying to run out on me," Chris quips, nearly two-thirds up the tree, all dressed in his tuxedo, a pizza box in hand.
Emily laughs, and she cries, sitting back on one of the couches. How could she forget? Back in the first year of their relationship they always said they would secretly meet up and eat pizza before going to the alter.
"You're sure you're ready, baby? We don't have to do this now," Chris offers gently, kneeling before his bride to comfort her.
"I'm ready," she shakes her head, throwing her arms around Chris.
"I love you."
"I love you."
"Forever and always," they say in unison.