Page 65 of Yours, Now and Always
“You can’t have this level of glameverywhere elseand then just...surrender at the eyes.”Hiseyes widen with dramatic flair. “Do you want your eyeliner to feel abandoned?”
Marin looks up from whatever she’s doing in the corner and comes my way. “Honestly, he’s not wrong, babes. Skipping lashes on your wedding day is a vibrational misalignment. It’d be the same as wearing Crocs to your own altar.”
She mists me as if I’m spiritually dehydrated.
“You think this is about makeup, but it’s not. This is about showing up as your full magical self.” She gestures around the room. “This whole day is a spell. You’re not just saying vows. You’re weaving your power into this bond. You’re letting yourself be fully seen.” Her eyes soften, but her voice remains firm. “You don’t go to your altar half-glammed. You don’t step into forever at half-strength. You show up radiant. Whole. In lashes.”
Tim clutches his chest while looking at Marin with awe. “Thank you,” he breathes. “Finally. Someone with taste, vision, and a working crown chakra.”
He spins on Colin. “Meanwhile, this one sat in silence while his only sister tried to ruin her face and her future.”
Colin just raises his brows. He’s almost as unimpressed as I am.
Becausewhole. Marin really said whole.
As if glueing tiny synthetic hairs to my eyelids is the key to completeness.
As if decades of impossible beauty standards haven’t already wrung us dry, waxed us bare, and beaten us into submission while brainwashing us that we should be grateful for the ability to “improve ourselves.”
As if Gage, who’s kissed me while I had pimple patches on and loved me in every shade of tired, is going to look at my eyelids today and go, “Meh. Could’ve been more whole.”
God. I need sugar. Stat.
I slip out of the sitting room while Colin distracts Tim with a heated discussion over just letting me be me. The last thing I hear is Colin’s voice getting louder as he says, “It’sherwedding day, Tim. Not yours.”
Yes, yes it is. And I need some space and some silence. Even if only for a few minutes.
Unfortunately, I forget that Tim’s hired the equivalent of a full documentary crew for the day. There’s a soft beep behind me. Then aclick. Then a voice whispering,“The bride’s on the move.”
I glance over my shoulder. Lighting Guy is following me. So is the photographer.Andher assistant who’s struggling with one of those giant reflective umbrellas, a tripod, and a large camera bag.
I pause after I enter the kitchen and turn, exasperated but polite. “Guys. I know you’re just doing your job. But please don’t follow me in here. I need a moment. And I really need to find something with sugar in it so I don’t murder my brother.”
The assistant opens her mouth to respond, but Tim’s voice barrels down the hall before she can.
“IGNORE THE BRIDE,” he yells. “SHE’S HAVING A TEMPORARY LAPSE IN JUDGMENT. LIGHT HER LIKE A GODDESS AND KEEP YOUR LENSES ON HER AT ALL TIMES.”
Then, muttered under his breath but still echoing just enough:
“She’s liable to disappear and destroy our content plan if we don’t track her.”
The lighting guy and photographer look at me. I look at them. And we all kind of freeze.
That’s when Gage’s mother appears. Her gaze is firmly on everyone but me. “Out,” she says gently.
Her tone isn’t unkind, but it’s forceful enough that even the assistant immediately starts backing away with a whispered,“Yes ma’am.”
Ingrid moves closer to me, radiating protective energy. Her presence is soft but immovable. “Please leave us,” she says, smiling now, as if this is just a pleasant social interaction and not a quiet takedown. “I need a minute with my daughter-in-law.”
The lighting guy retreats without hesitation. The photographer hesitates a second longer, probably remembering Tim’s threat to dissolve her soul if she misses a single candid, but Ingrid’s stare doesn’t budge. A minute later, she and I are alone.
My shoulders sag as I release a long breath. “Thank you. I think I might have hurt someone if you hadn’t shown up.”
She smiles, but there’s concern tucked behind it. Then she says something so unexpected it jolts me out of my funk. “I slapped Edmund’s sister and told her where to go on my wedding day.”
My eyes go wide. Then I laugh. It’s loud, surprised, slightly unhinged laughter that quickly turns into tears, because my nervous system is done and this is how it wants to process. Not because what she said isthatfunny. But because everything in me is overloaded.
And also because that might be the single most validating thing I’ve ever heard.
