by Lily Garner

Created on: July 14, 2009

Staring into the mirror, I had never felt so nervous. Here I was in a beautiful white dress, on what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, yet my head was whirling and I felt as if I was going to be sick.

A knock on the door startled me. "Come in!" I shouted, trying to stop the nerves from appearing in my voice. I didn't want to have to deal with anyone knowing how scared I was. It was sure to make people talk. Or worse; Sam, my fiance, could find out and think I was having doubts. We'd been through so much and all I wanted was for us to have a nice, smooth wedding. It scared me so much that the feelings I was having were threatening that.

My mother's boyfriend, Dan, entered. "Hi, Jo," he smiled. "How's it going?"

"Oh, fine..." I stuttered, trying not to show my fear. You would think I was preparing to face a monster the way I was acting. "Stop it," I told myself, "Get a grip. You're about to marry the man of your dreams, you should be happy!"

"Your mum sent me up, to let you know the flowers have finally arrived." He glanced at me. "You look beautiful. Your mum and I are so proud of you." He tried to look me in the eye, but I looked away. I knew what he was doing. He was trying to play the role of the doting father on his daughter's wedding day. Except he wasn't my father. He never would be.

It wasn't that I resented Dan; far from it. He made my mother happier than I had ever seen her. For the last ten years he had been a constant presence in our lives, and in some ways that was good. I enjoyed his company and he was good to me. You read about horrific stories of monstrous stepfathers and I knew I had it easy. He was always kind, always there.

It's just that there had always been a barrier between us. When things started to become serious between my mother and him, I was sixteen. I was so used to having a life without a father that I never noticed my lack of one. I certainly didn't need a father figure; my mother was incredibly strong and had been enough for me. There was a tension between us; he didn't quite fit into my life. He was at my wedding simply because my mother loved him; it had nothing to do with me at all. We both knew it.

I stared at the mirror once more, fingering my hair, smoothing my dress. The reflection didn't look like me. I was fiercely independent and outgoing, yet the girl I saw gazing back was innocent and fragile. A beautiful blushing bride.

"Are you sure you're alright, Joanne? Normally you're so talkative," Dan

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