~Close your eyes and picture the warmth of the sun on your skin... that's how being loved by her felt~
Harry Styles is a nepotism baby turned new father, left clueless with a newborn baby to raise, he is overwhelmed and under pressure. Matters are...
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"I remember my wedding day." My mom mumbles, her fingers combing through the blonde strands of my hair as she massages them against my scalp. "I was so nervous I thought I would just about pass out from excitement."
"This isn't a real wedding day, momma." I sigh, catching her eyes in the mirror I'm sitting in front of.
She shrugs, a small smile pulling at her lips.
"Grandma did the same thing for me, she did my hair that morning and she had these little hair pieces made. She spent ages placing them precisely in my hair, I want to do the same with you, Sunny."
Moving back from the vanity chair I was sitting in, she leaves the room to head into hers. I sit dead still, waiting for her to come back while nibbling on my bottom lip and fiddling with the hair band that is tied around my wrist securely.
My anxiety has really been playing on me today, I think it was how real this all feels now that I am heading to go and take fake photos to pretend to be in a marriage.
My ability to lie is poor anyway, let alone pretending to be someone's wife. I haven't been someone's girlfriend in four years, I don't think I would even be able to fool someone into thinking I was a girlfriend. A wife, that's a whole other matter.
I know I am going to mess this up for Harry.
If I mess this up for Harry then I will also be messing it up for my girls and I don't want to throw this opportunity away for them.
Mom returns a minute later with a white box carefully resting in her hands. Her palm taps against the lid twice before she hands it over to me with the giddiest of grins.
"Mom-"
"Just open it, Sunny." She tells with a roll of her eyes but all the while, maintaining the grin she has been sporting all morning while watching me slap some makeup on my face.
I do as she says, lifting the lid of the white silk box and finding all the little accessories that my mom wore on her wedding day when she married dad years and years ago.
A gasp falls from my lips at the beauty of all the things. My favourites were five little daisy hair pins that had pearls in place of the yellow pollen centre.
They were so small and charming that I can't help but run my fingernail over the edge of them with a delicate touch.
"They're beautiful."
"They're for you."
Looking back at her, I roll my lips into my mouth and shake my head. "I can't, it's not real, mom."
"Nonsense-"
Again, I shake my head, handing the box back to her with a saddened sigh. "I don't want to wear something as precious and meaningful as these when it's not real. I want to be able to wear them on my real wedding day, when I marry someone that truly loves me and isn't just using me for money."
