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thrift store. Anyway,” the words hit like physical blows. 6 months.
6 months of my
life. My love, my hope that I still mattered to the child I’d raised. 6 months reduced to thrift store
embarrassment and nervous laughter.
This was more like evolution, like a snake shedding skin. and it had outgrown. Through the
partially open door, I could see Holly stepping into the Vera Wang gown, her face radiant with relief.
Mia zipped her
up with the satisfaction of someone who had successfully prevented a social disaster. The photographer snapped away,
capturing the moment of transformation from daughter to daughter-in-law. While my own creation lay forgotten on a chair
like discarded wrapping paper, I walked back into the room with the measured steps of someone who had made a
decision.
“I’m going to take this home,” I said, lifting my dress with newfound
purpose. “Oh, Mom, I’m sorry. Maybe I can wear it to the rehearsal dinner.” Halie’s
voice carried the hollow ring of consolation prizes and afterthoughts.
“No,” I said simply. “That won’t be
necessary.” I kissed my daughter’s forehead, inhaling the scent of expensive hairspray and borrowed perfume
that smelled nothing like the child who used to crawl into my bed during thunderstorms. “Have a beautiful wedding,
sweetheart.” As I walked down the hotel corridor, I heard Mia say, “Well, that
was easier than I expected.
Sometimes people just need to accept reality.”
The
elevator doors closed on my old life. In my arms, wrapped in tissue paper and wounded pride, lay the beginning of
something else entirely. Outside, the spring air carried the scent of possibility mixed with exhaust fumes and
other people’s dreams.
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