The night before my wedding, I couldn’t sleep, so I went downstairs for some aspirin, only to find my mother on her knees in front of my fiancé. But it wasn’t desperation or tears that shook me to my core—it was the chilling offer she made him.
I always imagined the night before my wedding would be filled with excitement, maybe a little nervous energy, and happy anticipation. Instead, it became a nightmare.I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my heart pounding. I had tried everything — closing my eyes, taking deep breaths, even counting backward from a hundred. But my mind wouldn’t shut off.
Tomorrow, I would walk down the aisle. I should have been thrilled. Instead, a knot of anxiety sat heavy in my chest. My thoughts spun in a hundred different directions. What if something went wrong? What if I tripped? What if Zachary got cold feet?
I groaned and pressed my palms against my temples. A headache was creeping in. The last thing I needed was to feel sick on my wedding day.
Aspirin. That’s what I needed.
I slipped out of bed and padded toward the door. The house was silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator downstairs. I moved carefully, tiptoeing down the hall. My parents were light sleepers, and I didn’t want to wake them
