What Do You Mean We're Over?! (Sequel to WDYMHMB)

Chapter 22: The Wedding

Chapter 22:

Pippa smoothed out her wedding dress, white and clean, making sure that every single wrinkle, crinkle, and imperfection was fixed. Looking into the mirror, she sighed and patted down her dark hair, already styled to perfection in a nice updo. It had looked the same for the past three hours. 

Muttering under her breath, she rehearsed her vows for the millionth time, making sure that she had it all memorized although she had practiced them with me various times this past week. 

A gleam of sweat appeared on her forehead. She was beyond nervous. Her hands and arms were shaking to the point where she had to hold on to me for support, for she was afraid that she'd faint and fall. 

"Stop," I told her, pulling her hands away from her mouth, "I thought you quit biting your fingernails when you were like eight."

"I can't help it," she confessed, "I'm so nervous. I think my insides are going to explode. Rosie, what if I mess up? What if I fall going down the aisle? What if I drop my bouquet? What if I twist my ankle because of these damn heels? What if I forgot my vows? What if-"

"Calm down," I interrupted her. "I know you're going to be absolutely fine. I know you will. All your hard work and all your stress...it's worth it. Maybe not the stress... But believe me Pippa, this wedding will go off without a hitch."

"Have I ever told you that you're the bestest friend ever?"

"Many times," I chuckled, "now stop biting your nails. You just had a manicure and you wouldn't want all that money going down the drain just because you're nervous right?"

It wasn't like she needed to worry about money. Zayn was filthy rich, but she knew what I meant. She looked at her fingernails, inspecting each one, before putting her arm down by her side.

"I am getting married," she repeated again and again, "who thought that I'd be getting married to Zayn Malik? He was once the guy I used to adore on my bedrooms walls. For god's sakes I had posters of him all over and I imagined what it would be like if we fell in love and lived happily ever after. Now it's actually happening."

The door opened. It had been just the two of us alone in the room. Everyone else scurried off to take their places, but I stayed with Pippa to make sure she was emotionally stable to go one. I had to make sure she didn't get cold feet. That was always the worst thing that could happen at the wedding...well there were others, but cold feet was one of them.

Harry stuck his head into the room. He looked as great as ever, all polished up in his suit. A little black bow was at his neck and his hair was in his normal tousled curls. He still looked great though.

"We're ready when you are Pippa," Harry said.

"I am gonna get through this. No cold feet," Pippa mumbled, "I am getting married even if it's the last thing I do." She had a determined look on her face and she cracked her knuckles. "Holy shit I'm getting married."

"I'm glad to hear you're not getting cold feet," Harry chuckled, "Zayn's been out of his mind all day worrying about that. He's been going around saying, 'what if she get's cold feet? What if I'm not good enough and she regrets saying yes? Oh my god!'" He imitated Zayn's Bradford accent almost perfectly. 

Pippa let out a small giggle. "Okay. I'm ready. Let me just calm down a little bit. I'll be out in a minute- promise."

Harry nodded and disappeared. 

"I am gonna die," Pippa groaned. 

"No you're not," I demanded, "you are gonna walk out there, get married, say every single word off your vows as you memorized, and you are gonna go home today a married woman and happy. Do you understand Pippa Robertson soon to be Malik?"