He placed the flower on his lapel and attempted a smile in the mirror. His reflection sent him back a feeble sort of smile, overshadowed by the sadness in his eyes, ”
Stop it!” he yelled, slamming his palm on the dresser, “You choose this. You have to be happy!” But two forlorn eyes stared back, daring him to start something. He sighed, and giving up, pulled himself to his feet, lumbered out of the room and down the stairs to where his bride awaited.
Natolie Webb 