It’s odd to see myself like this. As a bride. It even sounds weird; but I love him. Even when I wasn’t with him, I never stopped loving him.
“What do you think?” Donna asks, and when I look at her in the mirror, I nod my head.
Thinking about Ryan seeing me in this dress, thinking about becoming his wife, thinking about this past year—it all overpowers me, and I quickly wipe the tears that begin to drop. Donna steps onto the platform with me and gives me a hug.
“I certainly hope these are happy tears,” she quietly says, and when I pull back and see another bride walking in, Donna takes my hand and walks us to my fitting room, closing the heavy curtain.
“Are you okay?” she asks as we sit on the small couch.
“It’s a lot,” I tell her.
She gives me a questioning look and I assure, “Not like that; I love Ryan. Just . . . this past year has been a huge change. One I never saw coming.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
And out of nowhere, I think about my parents. About my father, and how everything has decayed with them. I was about to leave for New York without ever telling them, and now I’m about to get married. It hurts.
“My parents don’t even know,” I mumble as more tears fall.
“Sweetheart,” she says as she pulls me into her arms. “Well . . . do you think you should call them? I mean, when’s the last time you spoke with them?”
Sitting back, I tell her, “Last Christmas. It’s been a year. Ryan said he saw my dad several months ago at one of my performances, but he didn’t even want to talk to me. He told Ryan to not tell me he was there.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It just makes me sad.”
“Of course it does,” she says. “Love doesn’t disappear just because the people do.”
“I’m not sure they ever loved me,” I choke out around the knot in my throat. “But it feels weird to move on without them.”
“What does Ryan say?”
“What can he say?” I tell her with a slight shrug of my shoulders. “He’s supportive regardless, but it’s hard not to think about them right now. I know them well enough to know that it’s done with and has been for a long time.”
She takes my hands, and tells me, “I don’t claim to have been the perfect mother to Ryan. I let him down in so many ways. I didn’t protect him like I should have, and I know that. But I’ve never once not loved him with everything that I am. I don’t know your parents, so I can’t speak for them, but I feel like I have gotten to know you well this past year. And you have a beautiful soul. I couldn’t imagine anyone better for my son than you. To be able to call you my daughter, I can’t tell you what that means to me.” Her tears fall along with mine, and I soak in her words. “I love you as if you were my own.”
Wiping my face, I don’t feel like I could possibly speak, but I force the words out because she deserves to hear them when I explain, “It’s always been hard for me to talk to people.” I stop, trying to take a breath through my shaky voice but then continue with my trembling, strained words. “I don’t open up easily, I know that. But you made it easy. You and Ryan both. And when I told you, the night of my solo, that you were the best gift Ryan ever gave me . . . I meant every word. It killed me not to have him for those few months, but it killed not to have you either. I never understood what a mom’s love felt like until you.”
We spend a few minutes hugging each other before we dry our tears and have a good laugh at our emotional mess.
“Here, let me untie you,” she says as we stand up and she loosens the sash. “Should we look for a wrap or something? You’re going to be freezing wearing only this.”
“This dress is beautiful. I don’t want to cover it up,” I tell her.
“But it’s the middle of winter.”
Looking back at her, I say, “Ryan will keep me warm.”
When she steps out, I slip off the dress and put my clothes back on. Donna tried talking me into a veil and jewelry, but I politely declined. Unfortunately, there was no declining when she insisted on buying the dress.
The past two days have been a whirlwind. After we met with Pastor Andrews the other evening, Ryan ordered dinner in and watched the new episode of ‘Ridiculousness’ with me. Donna couldn’t believe that I liked that show, and she and Ryan had a heck of a time teasing me, but I know it was all in good fun. It was nice to veg out in front of the TV with the two of them.
I decided to go by myself to pick up Ryan’s ring yesterday. As much as he likes to tease me, he loves nice things just as much as I do, so I decided on a timeless, brushed-platinum band. I waited while they engraved it for me, and by the time I got back to the house, Jase and Mark had just arrived. They were exhausted from spending the day traveling, so we all crashed early.
When I stir awake, Ryan is already up. Threading his hands through my hair, he says, “Morning, babe.”
“Morning.”
Inching his way down in bed, and facing me, he smiles, saying, “I feel like an antsy kid.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I get my everything today,” he says. “You nervous?”
“No. You?”
He pulls me flush against him, whispering, “No,” before kissing me.
When we finally make it downstairs, Donna and Jase are cooking while Mark drinks his coffee and watches. We all sit around and enjoy a long breakfast together before Ryan and I throw on our raincoats to take a walk along the beach.