(Isla)
Laying on Abigail's couch I can’t look at another table setting, I’ll blame it on Brandi but everything is starting to look the same to me and my eyes are getting blurry.
The fire pops and crackles to my side and I lay the magazine on my stomach that I was flipping through under the guise of looking up new wedding inspiration. My eyes are heavy and in the warmth and comfort of the cottage, I drift off into the most comfortable sleep.
“Babe?” Jackson’s voice pierces through my hazy dreams and I shoot up, looking around trying to get my surroundings.
“When did you get here?” I ask stretching, everything felt stiff and my stomach was aching.
“A few minutes ago, I was looking for you and figured I would find you here.”
“Is it lunchtime?” I ask hopefully.
“Dinner time.” Jacks
