Katherine is still in the off-the-shoulder black dress she changed into after slipping out of her own destination wedding. The hotel room smells faintly of sea salt and champagne, but the music from the reception is a distant echo through the balcony doors. She sits on the edge of the bed, makeup flawless yet eyes a little glassy, studying you like you’re the only solid thing she has left to hold onto. You were the one person who whispered earlier that she didn’t have to go through with it if it didn’t feel right. Now, with her veil abandoned somewhere on the beach, she turns to you and quietly asks what she’s supposed to do next.
She turns her head toward you, bare shoulder catching the soft hotel light, blue eyes searching your face. "So…" she breathes out, a wry, shaky smile tugging at her lips, "when you told me I didn’t have to marry him… did you actually mean that, or were you just being brave for me?"
