Moments: A BWWM Short Story Collection

XXI. Anxiety Attack

"Okay, Olivia, you can take the blindfold off."

My heart fluttered as I tugged the knot at the back of my head, doing everything in my power to keep the cloth from brushing against my hair. My sister Olena had labored for almost an hour to get my coils to bunch up on top and over my face, and the first thing that greeted my eyes as I sighted myself in the mirror was her handiwork.

"Great job, Le-Le!" I cooed as they bounced just a little.

Olena gave a humble shrug as I regarded my hair, marveling at the way the crown of ribbons wove around the bunch that fell gracefully over my right eye. It made me look sophisticated, a word that didn't usually describe Mrs. Olivia Benson.

Whoops, Olivia Michaels, I wasn't married to Hank quite yet.

"Honey, I know I did a good job on your makeup, but you have to look at the rest of the dress sometime today. Might as well get it over with."

"Don't rush her, Mama!" Olena chided my mother. "Let her savor the moment!"

I shot a smile at my sister, carefully lowering the blindfold to obscure the rest of my body in the mirror as I studied the rest of my face. Mama had indeed outdone herself on my makeup. Rich burgundy highlighted my plump lips, while a double-thick line of kohl caused my normally fainting eyes to pop from my sepia skin. My smile grew broader as I titled my neck back and forth; so far so good.

I lowered the blindfold to show off my neck and shoulders, the former ringed by an elaborate ivory broach and the latter laid bare in their glory. I was normally self-conscious about how wide my shoulders were, but the dress's cut lent a rounded quality to them that I'd scarcely thought possible. I shifted my weight to let the diamond studs in the broach sparkle before I took a deep breath and dropped my hands to my sides.

Numb shock slowly gave way to elation as I confirmed that the jaw-dropping woman in white was in fact my reflection and not some stranger's. I'd been astounded by how well my wedding dress fit back at the store, but my sister's eight years in the fashion industry had transformed the ensemble into something I was born to wear.

Every inch of my size 22 body looked amazing. My low-cut bodice bared a tasteful amount of cleavage, which bloomed from ivory ruffles to attach to frilly sleeves. A corset shaped my stomach into a pleasing shape, acknowledging my weight while drawing attention to my hips. I rocked said hips back and forth, running a gloved hand down my plentiful backside as I struck a coy pose in...

My smile faltered as I spotted it. Nestled on my lower back, just barely peeking out from the swooping cut of the corset, was the faded shadow of a tattoo. I fought back against the tears as I shook my head, hoping against hope that this wasn't happening.

"Liv, what's wrong?" Olena asked as she drew closer.

"I... it's back again!" I said, feeling a familiar panic begin to sweep over me. "They most be using fluorescent lights in the church! You can still see it under fluorescent lights and it sticks right out of the dress!"

My body began to shake as I felt my chest tighten. I can't believe I forgot to check what types of lights they were using in here! Everyone was going to see my old tattoo when I passed by, including Hank!

"So what?" Mama asked. "I had a tattoo when I married your father!"

"It's not the tattoo itself, mama, it's the name on it." Olena replied.

I buried my face in my hands, willing my body to stop quaking as my thoughts turned to Hank. I could see that beautiful tan face light up as I walked down the aisle to him, I could see those meadow-green eyes track up and down my body as I drew close. I could see him straightening his short shock of brown hair as I stopped beside him; and I could see his gorgeous smile drop as he saw my tattoo.