There were a little over two weeks left until the wedding.
The number felt both close and strangely distant, hovering somewhere between anticipation and disbelief. Willow noticed it most in the way people spoke to her now. Everything was counted backward. Days. Fittings. Final confirmations. Gentle reminders that the quiet stretch she was in would not last forever.
That morning, she packed Zana's diaper bag with careful familiarity and loaded the car without rushing. Lorrynne had invited her over for the day, insisting it would be easier with the nanny already there, space enough for adults to talk and babies to hold court uninterrupted.
Zana babbled the entire drive, hands waving, voice full of opinion. Willow responded out of habit, nodding as if the commentary mattered, because somehow it did. "I hear you," she said softly. "Strong feelings this morning." Zana answered with a triumphant sound that could have meant anything.
