I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and can’t help but pause. The woman looking back at me is almost a stranger, but in the best possible way. There’s a spark in my eyes now, brighter and clearer. Gone is the doubt and uncertainty that used to cling to me like a shadow. And my smile… It’s fuller, more at ease.
If there’s any mascara streaming down my face today, it’s only for the best reasons.
I run my hand down the delicate lace sleeves of my dress, the soft fabric tickling my skin as I trace the intricate patterns that extend all the way to my wrists. The dress is timeless and elegant with a skirt that cascades to the floor.
I’m notnervous, only excited.
My gaze shifts to my aunt in the mirror, and I catch her eyes. A wave of emotion hits me so hard, it’s almost overwhelming. All the love she’s poured into me, all the ways she’s stood by my side… It means more than I could ever put into words.
“Skye would…” She pauses, her voice catching as she tries to keep the tears at bay. “She would have been riddled with joy over this.”
I can’t help but notice the gap where my mom should be. The one person who should be here beside me, holding my hand through every step of this moment, but isn’t. Aunt Rose is the best person to stand in her place.
She steps closer, placing her hand on mine. “I have a letter for you from your mom,” she continues. “I wasn’t sure if I should give it to you now or later. She would’ve killed me if I did anything to ruin your makeup right now.”
The hint of a smile forms on my lips, but it doesn’t stop the tears that gather in my eyes.Damn it.
Do I want to read it now? Yes. The thought of having a piece of her with me on my wedding day would be the most precious gift.
“I’d like to read it,” I whisper. “Will you stay here, though?”
Her eyes catch mine, full of understanding as she nods. “Of course.”
I take it with trembling hands, my breath catching in my throat as I look at the familiar script of Mom’s handwriting. Just the sight of it is enough to break me wide open.
The lump in my throat rises as I imagine her writing these words to me, knowing she wouldn’t be able to see this. Her final days, her love, all condensed into this envelope.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. This letter, her words, they’re the closest I’ll get to having her by my side today.
My Sweet Juliette,
As you walk down the aisle, know that I’m right there with you. Just like I always have been. You’re marrying the love of your life (I’m pretty sure Rose would’ve made sure of that) and I couldn’t be prouder of the woman you’ve become.
I hope you’ve found the kind of love that lives in the quiet moments. The belly laughs at the end of a long day. The hands that hold yours steady when the world tilts a little sideways. You deserve all of it and more.
I love you more than I’ve ever known how to say. I’ll be walking with you every step, in every moment, for all the days to come.
With all my love, and then a little more,
-Mom
I can’t tear my eyes away from the words on the page. I’ve shed so many tears for my mom over the years, but right now, there’s an unexpected calm that settles over me. I can feel her here. Not in some ghostly, dramatic way, but in the grounding feeling in my feet, in the deep breath I just took.
With trembling hands, I carefully fold the letter, tucking it into the pocket of my wedding dress. Yes, a dress with pockets. Whoever thought of it is a genius.
“Maid of honor is here and reporting for duty!” Bree bursts in, a vision in her stunning, forest-green bridesmaid dress. Shepauses for a moment, taking me in with wide eyes. “Oh my god, Juliette. Jesus. You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen in my life.”
I laugh at her entrance. She’s exactly what I need right now, her energy and humor cutting through all the heavy emotions.
“Let’s get you down that aisle,” she says. “But I do have something for you from Knox first.”
As she steps closer, I catch the weight in her eyes. It’s subtle, but it’s there…nothing like sadness or regret, but something wistful.
Dillon’s name hasn’t come up since she told me she ended things months ago. She walked away for a reason, but sometimes I wonder if part of her misses what almost was.
She holds out a familiar leather pouch. I take it from her, my breath catching as I pull out the compass and a small note tucked underneath.
To place around your bouquet as you come home to me.
