Jay stood before the mirror, her black wedding gown embracing her body like memory and armor. The fabric fell heavy at the edges, like a sha
Jay stood before the mirror, her black wedding gown embracing her body like memory and armor. The fabric fell heavy at the edges, like a shadow she had once feared but the one that now she wore proudly.
Behind her, Venelope adjusted the veil with trembling fingers. Her throat bobbed once before she finally asked, "Are you sure, Jay?"
Jay smiled into the mirror. It wasn't forced; it wasn't even brave, but It was obviously a solid one.
"If I wasn't sure," she said, "I wouldn't be doing this."
The black gown that had once been a rebellion was shimmering. the one her mother had called a funeral dress when Jay first picked it out; well it had been one, a mourning herself, her voice and her shattering will. But now, as Jay looked at her reflection, she no longer saw grief, but saw power. She saw a woman who had made her choice.
Venelope cupped Jay's face, her eyes glassy, voice breaking. "Jay… you don't have to force yourself. You know that, right?"
Jay held her hand, steady. "I know what I'm doing."
Venelope's voice turned a notch higher full of desperation, love and, fear. "You don't even know him yet... i know you gave him a chance but... you could give it some time!"
Jay chuckled gently. "Venelope… my dear, I'm happy. I want to do this."
At that moment, the door opened and her father walked in, trying hard to hide the tears that instantly formed the moment he saw her. His "doll" was no longer the child he used to twirl in his arms. She was a woman, cloaked in defiance and dignity.
He stepped forward and kissed her forehead.
"My princess has grown up," he whispered.
Jay smiled back, her own tears catching at the corners of her lashes.
Then her mother stepped in. She moved toward Jay with open arms. her demeanor hopeful. and nervous. Maybe even repentant. But Jay turned away, brushing down her gown as if she hadn't seen her. The silence that followed was suffocating.
Elyana stopped in place, her hands pausing in midair before she quietly lowered them, masking her pain of loosing her daughter; behind a handkerchief.
Just then, a child burst into the room with wild energy. "It's time!"
Venelope, holding back emotion, gently took Elyana's arm and led her out of the room. Mr. Miller; Jay's father, offered his arm to his daughter.
He shut his eyes and chuckled. "Let's go, Princess."
Jay gasped, suddenly taken back in time; riding piggyback on his shoulders as he used to yell, "Hop on, Princess!"
A laugh escaped her lips, fragile and bright. Then tears began to fall again.
"No, no, no!!! love, your makeup…" he murmured, wiping her tears as gently as a breeze brushing silk.
Jay held onto his arm tightly, and they walked.
As they reached the aisle, time itself seemed to pause.
And then she saw him.
He stood at the other end of the aisle, in all white, like a mirror to her black gown. Usually, brides wore white. Usually, grooms wore black. But nothing about their story had ever been usual.
And in this silent reversal, the symbolism spoke louder than any vow.
Jay's father stepped forward, offering her hand.
The groom reached out.
He hesitated.
Completely draped in white, with his hair still slightly unruly and his eyes shimmering under the soft light, he looked like something not entirely of this world. Like someone unsure if he was allowed to hold beauty again after the way he had fumbled it the first time.
He tried to grasp her hand but trembled—afraid he might disturb a dream, or wake her from it.
Because he knew what he had done.
And in that moment, he didn't see himself as a man gaining a wife.
He saw himself as a sinner, standing at the gates of grace, not sure if he was worthy of being let in.
And Jay?
She reached forward.
Her fingers touched his.
And for the first time in their story… no one flinched.
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