Kayla
The reflection staring back at me was nothing short of beautiful. As the hair stylist’s fingers deftly twisted my red curls into an intricate updo, tiny pearls woven throughout even tinier braids, it was hard not to smile.
“What do you think of this, Luna?” the stylist asked as she held a small, delicate crown of baby’s breath up to the crown of my head. “Too much?”
I hesitated, brushing my fingers across the tiny white flowers. I could picture myself on my wedding day with those flowers in my hair, the pearls catching the light beneath my veil.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, forcing an even bigger smile although the slight tremble at the corners of my mouth nearly betrayed me. “It’s not too much.”
The stylist, oblivious, beamed and set aside the flowers. But the momen
