BELLA

I stood before the mirror, staring, and the mirror stared back at me. It was the day of the wedding—yay me—but joy was the last thing I felt. 

The week had rushed by before I could even draw a breath. Usually, I would be thrilled, but ever seen that day at the cafe, I've been anything but. He hasn't called me since then. I haven't even seen his shadow. 

“He’s going to make this difficult,” I muttered. 

“Who?” Gianna asked, holding my veil. 

...