arms are slightly forced outwards and my breasts are being squashed down. I look like a wonky seal who’s become trapped in plastic bag cast offs and stranded like a beached whale!
Getting un-stuck from the control top is a nightmare process. Once I figure it out and get the thing on properly I’m so proud of myself I could scream.
I exit the loo not caring at all what Lara thinks of me in this flesh coloured underwear. She helps me into the final control pieces without complaint from me.
Then comes the dress. As I step into it Lara lets Nicola back into the room.
“Oh I love this bit!” My cousin is enthusiastic in her renewed picture taking. “I always cry the most when the dress is first put on at every wedding I do!”
I don’t know why she’s so emotional. I for one am quite grateful for the emotional divide that’s lingering in my heart from yesterday. I can barely breathe wearing control underwear and I’m hoping they don’t spoil the entire wedding ceremony for me.
Lara sashes me up at the back. We’d gone with a proper tie-up corset dress in the end, and Lara did apologise for making me try on all those cheap zip-up gowns.
After she’s finished tying me up so tightly that I almost can’t breathe, I’m allowed to turn and look into the mirror.
Renewed tears spring into my eyes, but they are not tears of joy at seeing myself look so beautiful. They are tears of sadness and contempt at the woman who stares back at me in the reflection.
Who is that girl who’s trying to look thin? Her waist is cinched in so tight that her massive boobs stick out ready to poke out eyes everywhere. Her hips are ridiculously large now that her middle is bound so tightly.
When I walk out the door of the bridal suit I’m choking, but not on my tears, I’m being strangled by my stupid boobs that are shoved up almost into my neck.
“Slow down, Em. You can’t walk down the aisle that fast!” Lara calls out to me. I’m not hearing her though because I’ve picked up my skirts.
I have no intention of walking down any aisle that will lead to the man I love seeing me like this. Instead of heading through the ceremony doors I walk straight out of the wedding venue entirely.
Our wedding has been called off and this time it’s been cancelled by me.
Chapter 22
If I thought I’d spent all my tears crying yesterday, I’d be wrong. I’m perfectly capable of crying my eyes out today as well.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not even sure why I’m crying. Is it because I look like a weirdo in my wedding dress? Is it because I still can’t believe my friends abandoned me yesterday, only to confuse me by coming through for me in the end?
I think my tears are a culmination of everything.
I’ve been so utterly obsessed with losing weight for the wedding. Today’s wedding that I’m supposed to be at right now. I just can’t bear it though. The thought of walking down that stupid aisle with everyone looking at my oddly shaped body. And me staring back at them not knowing why they suddenly decided to show up after cancelling.
“Aw, dearie. Did you get left at the alter?” An old lady has asked me this. I don’t blame her for being curious. After all, I am sitting on a bus wearing a wedding gown.
I’m officially a bride, unlike the last time I’d paraded around in public wearing a wedding dress that I’d been sewn into.
“No, I’m just…” I can’t bring myself to answer the old woman through my tears.
“He’s not worth it, love!” Some bloke bellows from the back of the bus. “Marry me instead!”
Sod it.
I bunch up my skirts into my fists while holding onto a small piece of tissue for my tears and runny nose. Hopping off the bus at Barnards Green, I decide to walk the remaining half mile home.
It’s not easy walking quickly along the pavement wearing such a big gown. I’ve had to bunch up the train of the dress in one arm while keeping the tissue smashed to my face due to all of its leaking waterworks.
Beep! Beep! Beep! Goes a car horn.
I look up in time to see my fiancé pull up to the curb driving his mate Vince’s brand new Range Rover in pristine white. “Need a lift?” Callum says, rolling down