EMILY’S POV.

I sat in the makeup room—a beautiful bride. As beautiful as I always wanted to be on my wedding day. My wish was coming true, but the longing for it had long faded away.

I looked out the window. It was evening, already, meaning in less than an hour, I would be married to John.

“Oh please, don’t cry. Not yet. This has to dry up first.” The makeup artist said, and I raised my head to stop my tears from falling.

“It’s a beautiful day, you shouldn’t cry no matter how ...