“I don’t even know much about the person I’m marrying,” I muttered, trying to make light of it. “It’s all a family setup… It’ll probably be fine.”
The other end of the phone fell silent. My cousin, Stephanie, took a moment before responding in a tentative tone.
“Fionna… just don’t do anything impulsive, okay? You’ve been with Darrel for so long. Seven years doesn’t just disappear. Are you sure this isn’t something you’ll regret?” She hesitated, then added, “If you’re having second thoughts about the wedding, I can help smooth things over. I don’t think he’d refuse if you asked him to talk it out.”
I sighed, feeling the familiar ache. “There’s no use, Steph. We were never anything official. From the start, we had no real foundation. It was all... just a bit absurd, really. And here we are at the end, with nothing to show for it but more absurdity.”
Stephanie went quiet, taking in the weight of my words. It was true—we’d never had a real confession, a genuine acknowledgment of ‘us.’ Not even once had we officially defined our relationship.
“Fionna, no matter what you decide, I’m here for you. I’ll always be on your side.”