36
WHITLEY
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I said from the top of the Bethesda Terrace stairs with my three bridesmaids.
“It’s happening,” English said, barely containing her glee.
Somehow, all the months of planning our wedding had been condensed down to a matter of hours. Katherine got me into emergency hair and makeup. Harmony brought over my dress. Gavin and I had sent texts to our friends and family to meet us at the fountain, dropping the guest list from hundreds to thirty with the snap of a finger.
My dad had even been discharged from the hospital in record time and approved by his doctor to participate. Now, it was time to go, and I could hardly believe it.
I had whiplash from my utter despair over yesterday to delight that this was actually happening! It felt like a fai
