A gentle knock sounded from the bedroom door behind me.
“Tara?” Jess called. “You’re good, girl?”
“Yeah, I’m just… breathing,” I replied. “Taking it all in, you know?”
There was a brief silence. I could picture Jess—my closest friend since college—standing there, brows knit as she debated whether to step inside.
“I’ll give you a few more minutes, T. Just holler if you need help getting out of that dress. I won’t be far.”
I smiled at my reflection, though it never quite reached my eyes. Her footsteps faded down the hallway.
It truly had been a beautiful wedding. The ceremony took place in Jess’s backyard beneath the old fig tree that had witnessed years of memories—birthdays, breakups, even a blackout during a summer storm when we ate cake by candlelight. It wasn’t extravagant, but it felt honest.
Jess isn’t just my best friend. She’s the person who knows when my silence means peace and when it means I’m unraveling. Since college, she’s been my fiercest defender and never shy about sharing her thoughts—especially when it came to Ryan.
