BELLA

I stood before the mirror, staring, and the mirror stared back at me. It was the day of the wedding—yay me—but joy was the last thing I felt.

The week had rushed by before I could even draw a breath. Usually, I would be thrilled, but ever seen that day at the cafe, I've been anything but. He hasn't called me since then. I haven't even seen his shadow.

“He’s going to make this difficult,” I muttered.

“Who?” Gianna asked, holding my veil.

“My husband–to–be.” I turned away from the mirror, facing her. “What do you think of him?”

She shrugged. “I don't know. I can't figure him out.”...