But now, sitting in Marissa’s apartment, learning that people she had never even met wanted to help her.
She realized something important. She wasn’t alone anymore. “There’s one more thing,” Marissa said. Her voice becoming more serious.
“When you walk into that wedding, you can’t just look good. You need to feel good.
You need to be confident. You need to own that room. I don’t know if I can do that, Elena admitted.
It’s been so long since I felt confident about anything. Then we’re going to practice, Marissa said firmly.
Every day this week, we’re going to work on it. We’re going to practice how you walk, how you talk, how you carry yourself.
By Saturday, you’re going to walk into that wedding like you own the place. Elena looked at her friend, her wonderful, kind, determined friend, and felt tears streaming down her face.
But this time they were tears of gratitude. “Why are you doing all this for me?”
She asked again. Marissa moved to sit beside her on the couch and put an arm around her shoulders.
“Because you deserve it,” she said simply. “Because kindness matters. Because that man has been cruel to you for 3 years, and it’s time for you to show him that cruelty doesn’t win.
That you’re still here. You’re still standing, and you’re still worth something.” She paused, then added with a small smile.
And also because I really really want to see the look on his face when you walk through those doors.
Elena laughed through her tears. Me too, she admitted. Me too. That night, Elena slept on Marissa’s couch, the most comfortable place she had slept in 3 years.
As she drifted off wrapped in a warm blanket, she thought about the week ahead.
One week to prepare, one week to transform, one week until she would face Jonathan Peterson again.
