Mia
I comb my fingers through my wavy strands that turn slightly sticky because of the sprays to keep the wavy curl in place. I pull the end of my hairs over my shoulders and part them into two, letting them rest on either side of my breasts. Even though I tell myself that I don't care, I still can't help but be nervous to see who my fiance is going to be. I am not even sure if he is the same age as me or older. I only hope he isn't twice my age or anything.
"Mia, darling. You're beautiful today," says my mother, sliding her hand on my head and trailing it down to catch my hand. "In fact, you're beautiful every day. I've always made sure of that."
I give her a weak smile in return, even though I have to force it, just like I always do.
"Okay. Get ready. They're here," says my father af
