Bruises

fïftÿ-nïnë

one year later

I waited nervously outside the church, feeling too dressed up in my gorgeous wedding dress. I had no father standing beside me, no one to walk me down the aisle.

I had phoned my dad a month after Tim had proposed, and it took at least a minute before he had answered.

"Who be this?" He had slurred, obviously drunk.

"Olivia."

"Oh, the backstabbing daughter who betrayed her family."

"You and mum betrayed me."

"It isn't our fault you're weak."

"I'm engaged, dad. I'm having a wedding."

"Am I invited?"

"Yes, dad. I would like you to walk me down the -"

I had been cut off. "I don't want to go. You're not my daughter. My son is in jail because of you."

"For two years."

"Two years too many, backstabbing bit-"

I had hung up.

Now, the bells had just started to ring, my cue to enter. I clutched the bouquet of cherry blossoms and white roses in my hands, and took the first step.

I was grabbed on the arm, and a familiar face smiled at me.

"Miranda?" I looked at her.

"May I walk you down? You look quite lonely, dear." My boss smiled.

Over time we had grown quite close and I had been promoted a few times. So I smiled wide and hugged her tightly. "Of course. Thank you."

I hooked my arm through hers and she pushed open the door with pink-nailed hands.

I smiled, looking down the aisle at my to-be husband, and walked forward confidently.

_

Comment your thoughts on the Miranda situation! By the way Olivia is now 19, and Tim 20. Yeah, its young, but goodness they're in love haha and yeah. Miranda is in her forties, Marcel is in his early twenties or so.