It was the night before Meg's wedding to John Brook, and she was upstairs fretting. You had come, as her best friend, to talk with her before the big day, but when you went upstairs you were met with the sight of the young woman sitting on her bed and staring at the wall, fidgeting with her blanket.

She noticed the sound of your footsteps, turning to you with a worried face.

"I don't think I'm ready," Meg said quietly, meeting your eyes. As you sat on the bed next to her, she instantly felt more comfortable, melting against you.