LOGINAbby Intrigued, I let Karl take my hand and lead me discreetly away from the reception, weaving through the tables and out a back door into the gardens. A mischievous grin plays on his lips as we giggle like teenagers, ducking behind hedges and scurrying across the lush green lawns. “Where are w
As the music shifts to a slow ballad, I feel a familiar pair of strong arms circle my waist from behind. “There’s my beautiful wife,” Karl’s deep voice rumbles in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He spins me around to face him, our bodies swaying in time to the soft music. I gaze up at him
Abby The reception hall is cast in a warm, romantic glow, with twinkling lights and the warm flickering of candles on every table. Soft music plays as Karl and I make our entrance, hand-in-hand to raucous applause and cheers from our guests. I can’t stop smiling as we wave to our loved ones gather
Abby The afternoon sun streaming in through the tall windows of the chapel casts the stones in a warm golden light, giving everything a sort of ethereal energy. I stand in the hallway, my arm linked with Anton’s, as the wedding coordinator prepares everyone to walk down the aisle. “Are you ready
Abby As I sit in front of the vanity mirror with the hair and makeup artist circling around me, I meet my friends’ gazes in the reflection; Chloe, Leah, Daisy, and even Elsie are here as my bridesmaids, each of them looking more beautiful than the last. “The seamstress really did do a great job
Abby With a gasp of excitement, I pull the wedding gown out of its box and hold it up in the light. Everything is perfect; the way the beadwork catches the light, the silky texture, the shape. I can’t wait to try it on now that it’s been altered to fit my body. Quickly, I slip out of my clothe
Abby The door to the restaurant swings open with a familiar creak, and the scent of fresh coffee and bread reaches my nostrils. It’s been two days since Karl left town. Things are finally back in full swing after the competition, but I took the weekend off to recover—not just from the cook-off,
Abby My apartment is dark when I finally get home tonight. It still smells faintly of fresh paint from the new coat that my landlord put on, but I can still sense the lingering scent of smoke, too. I decide to avoid the harsh glow of the kitchen lights as I plop the wine glass that’s been tucked
Abby The stage lights feel even more blinding now from the tears in my eyes. A makeup artist darts around, dabbing my face with powder to cover the streaks from crying. In more ways than one, I’m glad this hell is almost over; right now, I’m just looking forward to getting this damn makeup off.
Abby As Karl speaks, my fingers worry the hem of my white chef’s coat, now no longer pristine but splattered with sauce and tiny stains and the remains of haphazardly cooked meals. It feels like a perfect representation of my inner world right now: once untarnished and lily-white, but now stained







