When the daylight has faded

Askew (#set)

With a sigh, I place the baby bracelet back into its resting place. The box snaps shut with a thud.

I wipe a stray tear off my face, before turning to whoever it is that has just entered the room. I give the intruder a wobbly smile.

"It's time to go," my husband says gently. "Are you ready or do you need a moment?"

'A moment? I need another lifetime!'    

I want to scream, but I press my lips together and nod. Before I have the chance to leave the room, my husband catches me and gives me a hug. His strength makes me tear up again a little.

"It's her day," he says quietly. "She's happy, and he is a good man. It could be so much worse. He could be a great mean hairy biker, twenty years her senior, with ties to organised crime. Instead she is giving us a friendly, if slightly balding accountant with ties to organised desk drawers."

I chuckle against my will.

"Thank you!" I reply. "I needed that - badly. So, let's get going."

On the way down the stairs, I nearly trip and break my neck when I spot my little girl, dressed in the most amazing white cloud, her hair piled expertly on top of her head, her eyes sending out fireworks of love and happiness.

I swallow hard, pep-talking myself with a literal kick to my own butt. My carefully selected stiletto comes off in the process, nearly smacking hubby, who is trailing behind me, in the face. I turn, just catching him dodge the flying eight-inch-bladed weapon with a Jacky-Chan like move that unsettles his balance and knocks him off his feet. He slips down two steps, coming to a stop right in front of me like a middle-aged penguin.

Lilly gasps, but her father jumps up with a move that would have put Bruce Willis to shame.

"I'm okay, Lilly. Don't you worry! Today's date was set over a year ago. This wedding is going ahead, no matter how many cowardly attacks your mother will unleash on me to keep you to herself. I will walk you down that aisle, even if it is on my hands."

I try to scramble past the sweet talker to get hold of the missing piece of my obscenely expensive outfit, when Mr Helpful decides to grab hold of the object of his near-demise himself, bending down at the same time as me in the same place as me.

Our heads bounce off each other painfully.

"Mum, Dad!" Lilly cries, rushing up the stairs to assess the damage done to our bodies when we remain lying on top of each other. I know it sounds mean, but the panic on her face makes me start to laugh, infecting my husband who grabs Lilly and pulls her down towards the heap of legs and arms on the stairs.

"Looks like we need a bobsleigh to get down these stairs," he chokes out.

I hold up my phone and snap a few pictures, the three of us entangled, hairstyles askew, tears of laughter ruining the make-up. And I know everything will be alright.