Astrid

 I stared at myself in the floor-length mirror, admiring the white dress I’d bought at the last minute.

 The dress was beautiful, ending at my knees with a silver lining at the neckline and delicate pearls hanging from it.

 It felt ironic how a dress so pretty could be for an occasion so… fake. I wasn’t just the event planner anymore. Now, I was the bride.

 I had pinned my hair into a bun and done my makeup myself. This wasn’t a grand affair. Adrian had decided we’d go to a ...