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EMILY’S POV.
I sat in the makeup room—a beautiful bride. As beautiful as I always wanted to be on my wedding day. My wish was coming true, but the longing for it had long faded away.
I looked out the window. It was evening, already, meaning in less than an hour, I would be married to John.
“Oh please, don’t cry. Not yet. This has to dry up first.” The makeup artist said, and I raised my head to stop my tears from falling.
“It’s a beautiful day, you shouldn’t cry no matter how happy you are.” Another said to me, smoothening my dress.
She continued, “With your wedding comes spring. The snow is thawing, and the wind is warm. Very soon, we’ll see the definitely-missed flowers.”
I nodded, and she smiled.
Once more, I looked out the window. Was no one really coming to save me? Did I
