My bridesmaid helps secure the clasp of the gold necklace under my blonde curls.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” I squeeze her hand and admire our reflections, applying a touch more lip gloss.
“How are you feeling?”
“Nervous.”
“It’s going to be the best day of your life.”
“Am I doing the right thing? I’m too old for all of this.”
“You deserve happiness. Everybody will be thinking that.” She veils me with hairspray.
“We should have chosen a different venue.”
“No, the local pub is the perfect place to celebrate.”
She pours me more Prosecco. We clink glasses.
“To divorce.”
(Also posted on Drablr.)
Head Over Writing 