I stand at the top of the stairs. The buttons down the back of my dress have been securely fastened for over an hour already, and I’ve only asked to have them undone once. Just once to let me take a full breath between pictures.
Now, standing here, my head swims in need of just one more full belly breath. But it is too late. My girls are downstairs already and I can hear the music playing. I put my hand just below the empire waist and I look up from my white-tipped toes.
Hazel eyes meet hazel eyes. His eyes are my eyes. Mine are his. My head swims again, but he holds my gaze.
I breath into my hand. He doesn’t let go. And I know that I am ready. That I’ve always been ready. I take the stairs one four-inch heel to each carpeted step at a time.
He reaches for me at the bottom of the last step and steadies me once again. Together, we turn the corner into the great room. My arm in his, we step to the music.
He keeps me moving forward. He knows what I need. I take the aisle one flower-petalled step at a time, and I look out from myself.
Blue eyes meet my hazels. He holds my gaze. I breath into my heart. He doesn’t let go and reaches for me. Together we turn the corner. My hand in his. We step to the music. Once. Just once.
Before I know it we are standing at the top of the steps. Our heads swim. Bubbly in our hands and bubbles in the air, we take the steps two at a time. My steps are his steps. His are mine.
I’m participating in the Slice of Life Challenge over at Two Writing Teachers. Check it out!