You sat in the dressing room of the gorgeous venue that you and Emily had picked out for your wedding: a lakeside castle with fields of flowers. Penelope was your maid of honor, standing behind you, helping you into your gown. You had butterflies in your stomach all week, just like when you first saw Emily. It was becoming more and more real, you were getting married. To a woman.

Your parents had never approved of this due to your faith. Emily didn’t even bother asking for your father’s when she popped the question, knowing that he’d never approve. You tried to suppress the hurt that you felt, knowing that love was the law and religion was taught, but still.. These were your parents.. The ones who had raised you to be the woman you blossomed into.

The final adjustments were made as you swallowed any negative thoughts. You had chosen you and Emily.. Religiously. But you were allowed to cry. You would be walking yourself down the aisle, you wouldn’t have a father-daughter dance, your parents wouldn’t be sitting in the front row as you read out your vows..

The arched doors opened and out you walked, alone, with a bouquet of you and Emily’s favorite flowers. She stood there at the alter, waiting with tears in her eyes. You also had tears in your eyes, tears of pure love, joy, and this mixture of sadness too. You had saved two chairs in the front, in case your parents did decide to show up. As you walked down the aisle, your eyes were locked on Emily, but the empty chairs stuck in your peripheral. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. In the middle of the walkway.. In front of all of your friends.. You froze. You would never regret choosing love over faith, it wasn’t guilt you were feeling, but confusion. Why didn’t your parents want to be there to support their little girl, on the most important day of her life..? A tear ran down your cheek, and as soon as Emily saw that twitch in your face, she hurried down from the alter and took your hand.