Zara
Everything was starting to blur together—fabrics, colors, flowers, appointments.
My life had become a whirlwind of wedding plans, pregnancy hormones, and more unsolicited advice than I ever wanted. I was supposed to be glowing. Thrilled. Radiating joy.
But instead, I just felt tired.
And maybe a little lost.
I sat on the couch surrounded by bridal magazines and appointment cards, half-listening as Julia and Tessa debated napkin colors over speakerphone. Ria was scrolling on her phone beside me, pretending to care but mostly texting her newest flavor of the week.
“You said you wanted something timeless, not trendy,” Tessa was saying. “So ivory over blush is more classic, don’t you think?”
“I don’t care anymore,” I mumbled.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said louder, forcing a smile. “Iv
