Page 261 of Micah

I smile back.

It's enough.

Maybe one day we'll rebuild what we lost.

Maybe we won't.

Today isn't about looking backward.

Today is about walking toward my future.

“Ready?”

Esme squeezes my hand.

I laugh nervously.

“No.”

Bit snorts.

“Good. You'd worry me if you weren't nervous.”

She smooths the front of my gown for the tenth time.

“I think I'm going to throw up.”

“No, you're not,” Esme says.

“Probably.”

Bit shrugs.

“I puked before Sawyer and I got hitched.”

“You did not.”

“I absolutely did.”

Esme bursts out laughing.

“Oh my God.”

“It was nerves!”

“It was too many mozzarella sticks and margaritas,” Esme quips.

“I stand by my mozzarella sticks and margaritas.”

I laugh so hard my nervousness eases.

Just like that.

These women? They're more than my bridesmaids.

They're my sisters. They’re the family I never knew I was missing.

We step toward the mirror one last time.