Anna.

"You are the most beautiful bride in the world."

I gaze at myself in the mirror and sigh in relief; this is finally coming to an end. My mother is smiling at me, tears in her eyes, a comforting hand on my back. I take another look at the girl in the wedding dress. That's supposed to be me, but I'm almost unrecognizable. I didn't want so much makeup; I feel like a clown. But I'd do anything to appease my mother and prevent a meltdown.

The dress is a single piece, colored in white and ivory. It sports a sweetheart neckline and a corset fastening. Made of lace with appliques, it radiates a soft satin glow. Decorated with embroidery and beading on its front bodice, it has a pleat below the waist with a handmade bow and abundant layers of tulle cascading down the skirt. The skirt itself is too voluminous for my liking. I had wanted a simpler dress. However, this is the most intricate dress I've ever encountered. My mother splurged on the wedding costs, knowing well that most expenses would fall on Dave's family.

"Are you nervous?" she asks, adjusting my now-blonde hair.

Truthfully, I'm not. It's my wedding day, I'm supposed to be, but I'm not. Dave was my boyfriend during our teenage years, and I'm comfortable around him. I delayed our wedding for a long time. I mean, we got back together five years ago, and he's been wanting to marry for three of those years. I wanted to say yes earlier, but a part of me screamed not to, to wait longer, that I wasn't ready. Six months ago, he asked again. I agreed, but I cried.

He thought they were tears of joy, and for a moment, so did I. But that wasn't the case. I felt anguish and a heavy knot in my stomach. The weight eased over days, but it still lingers.

The tears came from realizing I should settle for this life. I thought there could be more for me, but I can't change who I've become. I'm not the young girl I used to be; now, I have other responsibilities. Dave is a wonderful person. I'm lucky to have someone like him. He accepted me, knowing what I was going through. Knowing about the little life growing inside me, Jeremy.

"Mommy!" a high-pitched voice squealed from behind. I felt tiny arms trying to embrace my legs, but the skirt got in the way.

I turned and saw him, looking so handsome in his little suit. It took a day in the park and half my energy to convince him to wear it. His beautiful honey-colored eyes stared at my dress, clearly as repulsed by it as I was.

Picking him up, he nestled his head into the crook of my neck, sending familiar shivers down my spine. My mother gasped audibly, grabbing Jeremy's wrist firmly.

"Anna, he's five now. You shouldn't be carrying him around; he'll ruin your dress," she said, her eyes narrowing at my boy.

She never really took to Jeremy, barely tolerating him. I always had to intervene when she tried to scold him or said something that could hurt him. We've had some intense arguments about it.

Nobody would ever lay a finger on my baby. Never.

I gently removed my mother's hand from his wrist. "I don't care, Mom," I said, kissing his forehead. "Will you always want mommy to carry you?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms tightly around my neck. The boy is strong, especially for his age. The other day, he punched another boy a year older than him for teasing. Since it wasn't the first time, they gave me a final warning; if it happened again, they'd expel him from kindergarten.

I did scold him a bit... but then praised him for aiming at the stomach just as I taught him. Yet, I told him never to do it again. I don't advocate violence, but after talking to the boy's parents and getting laughed at, and after discussing with every unresponsive teacher, I wasn't going to let Jeremy get hurt, not on my watch.

Alison and Demetria, my bridesmaids, entered the room. Alison was as white as a sheet, while Demetria beamed at me. I wanted to ask Alison what was wrong but not in front of Jeremy.

"Honey, can you do mommy a favor? Could you fetch my purse? The receptionist has it," I said. He vigorously nodded, jumped from my arms, and darted towards the door.

"Can I have a few moments alone with Alison?" I looked towards my mother, who frowned, as did Demetria.

Demetria despises Alison. And Alison feels the same about Demetria. Why? I don't know. All I know is that Alison claims she's a bad person, but she never specifies why. So, I've let it slide.

Both of them left, leaving me alone with Alison.

"What's going on?" I asked, removing my veil.

"Nothing... I'm just anxious about the wedding. Actually, can't we move it up a bit?" she asked, wringing her hands.

"We're only ten minutes from starting. I don't think we can rush it any more than that. Plus, you didn't even want me to marry Dave. What are you saying?"

She adjusted the skirt of her violet dress. It was horrendous, but no worse than mine.

"Can I ask you something?" She seemed hesitant, as if she had seen a ghost.

"Of course."

"Do you love him?"

The question weighed heavily on me. I don't know why I'm hesitating; I know the answer.

"Alison, I'm marrying him. It's evident that I do. He accepted me when no one else would."

"Do you love him, or do you just love that he helped you?"

Ouch. That was a low blow. The question I had always evaded, and she's asking it right on my wedding day. Irritation flared within me. Just as I was about to reply, the door swung open.

Jeremy walked in, my purse in one hand, and clutching someone's coat with the other.

Slowly, in what felt like slow motion, I lifted my head. My eyes traveled from his prominent abs, evident even beneath his shirt, up to his broad chest and wide shoulders. And then to his neck... When my gaze met his eyes, I can guarantee all the progress from the past years began to crumble bit by bit. My heart ached anew. My legs wobbled, and my entire body felt weak.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from him, an urge to scream welling up within me.

My son was next to him. This must be a dream.

"Mama!" Jeremy shouted and ran towards me.

Henry's eyes widened in shock when he heard Jeremy call me "Mama" and saw him wrap his arms around my neck.

How did he get to my neck? That's when I realized I was on my knees, my bridal dress spread around me. Staring at the man who vanished from my life more than five years ago. His eyes were still the most magnificent sight I'd ever seen, honey-colored, just like Jeremy's. He had messy black hair, but now it was longer, reaching his shoulders. I then lowered my gaze to his lips. Full, luscious lips, and I remembered all too well how sweet and soft they were.

Then, everything went black.