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Weekly Contest #361
Chloe stood in front of the mirror, but her gaze went deeper than her reflection. The woman looking back was thirty-one, poised in a gown that clung softly at her waist before cascading into a quiet, ivory sweep at her feet. Lace traced her collarbone like delicate handwriting. Though her hair had been pinned up with careful intention, a few loose strands already curled against her neck, as if even they refused to stay contained for too long.Today was her wedding day. Outside the tall window of the bridal suite, the world looked impossibly c...
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