Prompt: Shreds of Doubt
WARNING: This flash fiction contains some adult language.
My hands are cold.
I don't know why that startles me so much, but I keep staring at them like I've never seen them before. They're practically numb with frigidity, and I'm surprised the fingernails aren't blue.
Something borrowed, something blue...
"Are you ready?" Kay asks me. She's grinning, beaming even. I glance quickly in the mirror. Well, at least one of us doesn't look like she's about to hurl her breakfast into the nearest toilet bowl.
Kay follows my gaze, and her smile twitches a little. "You alright?"
I try to nod, but it comes out as a shake. Negative.
"Oh God, what if I screw this up? What if he screws this up? What if we're totally and completely wrong for each other? What if we move in together and he realizes I hate doing dishes or I don't dust or I mix Lucky Charms and Cocoa Pebbles together for breakfast every morning? Or what if--"
"Debbie. Breathe." My mouth grinds to a halt, and I suck in air like it's the last time I'll ever do it. Kay nods patiently. "Good. Look, you two have been together for five years. It's not like you met yesterday. He already knows what you eat for breakfast and that you're a total shit at cleaning. You've spent nearly every night together for a year. If you were wrong for each other, you'd know by now."
I'm pacing a little, but the feeling is starting to return to my fingers. "Are you sure?" I ask anyway, even though relief has started to flood my chest.
"Would I let you marry my best friend if I wasn't?"
"I thought I was your best friend." I recite the line absent-mindedly. It's an old joke.
"You both are," she answers obediently. "That's what makes this so fucking perfect."
There's sincerity in the habitual words, and it gives me confidence. It is perfect. We are perfect.
I nod. "Yes," I tell her, and I square my shoulders towards the door, doubts banished. "Yes, it does."
Kay's beaming smile is back. "Then let's go get you married." And together we walk towards the aisle.