31
WHITLEY
Today was my wedding day.
And I looked like a drowned rat.
My eyes were red and puffy from the alcohol … and crying. I hadn’t wanted to cry, but when Safia left and the events of the evening came crashing down, I’d crawled into bed and cried into my pillow like it was my own version of therapy. Now I felt sluggish from the lingering effects of drinking.
I forced myself into a shower. The scalding hot water helped dispel my queasiness. I towel-dried, applied light make-up, and hoped I looked like a human.
After all, it was a new day.
A brand-new day that just happened to be my wedding day. Something I had all been but convinced would never happen. And here I was, marrying Gavin King of all people. Maybe by the time I got to the venue and through hair and makeup, I’d figure
