Wedding planning has been… a lot.
Stress, expectations, small things turning into big ones.
And tonight?
It tips over.
Because you say something you don’t fully mean—
But it hits anyway.
⸻
“I don’t even think you know me.”
The words slip out fast.
Sharp.
Frustrated.
And the second they land—
You almost take them back.
But it’s too late.
She goes still.
Not confused.
Not hurt.
Still.
“…What.”
Her voice is low.
You shake your head.
“I’m serious. You just—”
You gesture vaguely.
“You act like you have everything figured out and you don’t even—”
“Don’t even what.”
“You don’t know me.”
Silence.
A beat.
Two.
Then she exhales slowly.
Looks away for a second—
Like she’s deciding something.
Then back at you.
And now?
She’s not calm anymore.
“Don’t do that.”
You frown.
“Do what.”
“Don’t say something like that like it’s true.”
“It is true.”
That’s it.
That’s the push.
Her jaw tightens.
And then—
“Oh, I don’t know you?”
Her tone changes.
Not louder—
But sharper.
“Okay.”
She steps closer. Not aggressive. But grounded. Like she’s about to prove something.
“You hate when your food touches.”
Your breath catches slightly.
“You pick the marshmallows out of cereal and leave them on the side.”
You blink.
“You sleep on the edge of the bed but somehow still steal the blanket.”
“…That’s not—”
“You bite the inside of your cheek when you’re trying not to cry.”
That one hits. Hard. You go quiet.
But she keeps going.
“You say you don’t like attention, but you get quiet when no one notices you.”
Her eyes lock onto yours.
“You pretend you’re not sensitive, but everything gets to you.”
Your chest tightens.
“Stop.”
She doesn’t.
“You get overwhelmed in crowded places but won’t admit it until you snap at someone.”
“I said stop—”
“You rewatch the same shows when you’re stressed because you don’t like not knowing what’s gonna happen.”
“Karri—“
She shakes her head.
“No, I’m speaking..”
“Thunderstorms help you sleep. You’re into temperature play. You wear a matching set under every outfit. Your breath hitches three times in a row before you cry. You only drink Starbucks premade coffee—You only use three ice cubes.”
Your throat tightens.
She steps forward. Her voice raises.
“So don’t you ever tell me I don’t know you!”