12
11:51 a.m.
There was nothing like a good cry, comfort food, and a lot of work to clear a woman’s head.
That should’ve worked for Giulianna, but it didn’t.
As she carefully arranged each of the four cakes on their corresponding plates of the acrylic stand-tower and hung it on the transparent lines attached to the Baccarat chandelier, Giulianna kept imagining how she would like their wedding cake to be; if they would have a small or a big wedding ceremony; and how gorgeous Richard would look at the altar waiting for her, all dressed in his fancy military uniform and them walking out of the church and under the arch of swords formed by the guard of honor.
Stop dreaming. She sighed aloud.
“You shouldn’t let some guy get you so upset,” said Henriette, pushing one of the metal rods from
