Page 131 of Sadistic

I stand, testing the height.

They make me taller but not unsteady.

I could run in these if I had to.

The thought shouldn't be comforting, but it is.

"You look..." Dalla trails off.

"Like a bride?" I finish bitterly.

"Like yourself," she corrects. "Just in fancier shoes."

Mom insists on taking a photo with her phone. "For later," she says vaguely. "When you want to remember."

"Remember what?"

"The night before everything changed." She puts her phone away. "Now bed. Both of you. If we're doing this, we're doing it right. That means sleep, breakfast, and pretending tomorrow is a normal wedding."

"Normal," I repeat.

"As normal as we can make it."

We all head back to our rooms.

Dalla hugs me extra long in the hallway. "Still sure?" she asks.

"No. But I'm doing it anyway."

"Then I'll be right there with you. Maid of honor and all."

Back in the spare room, I carefully hang the shoes in the closet next to the dress.

My phone buzzes one more time.

A text from Ingrid:

He's okay. Getting help. It's over.

Relief and guilt war in my chest.

I text back, even though I was already told a little bit:

Thank you for letting me know.

Her response comes quickly:

Thank you for not stopping me. I know it couldn't have been easy.

I reply:

None of this is easy.

Ingrid replies back within a few moments:

No. But tomorrow you get married and maybe find some happiness in all this mess. That's something.

I sigh, typing back:

---