The Day That Was Supposed to Be My Wedding
The next morning, I put on the white jumpsuit I’d planned to change into for the reception.
“You’re still showing up,” Maya said. “Might as well show up in white.”
Walking into that barn hurt. Every garland, every string of fairy lights, every table setting — it all looked like a ghost of the life I almost stepped into blindly.
But then I saw them: my people.
The ones who stayed.
My family. My real friends. People who looked at me not with pity, but with pride.
We ate the food. We drank the drinks. We danced to the playlist I’d built for a wedding that never happened.
We turned a day that was supposed to destroy me into the day I walked out free.
I didn’t get the wedding I planned.
I got something better.
I got my out.
I got my voice back.
I got my life.
