My deceased father appeared in my dream the night before my birthday and warned, ‘Don’t wear the dress your husband gave you.’ I woke up trembling, because my husband had just given me that dress. And when the seamstress brought it back and I checked the lining, I realized my father hadn’t just visited in a dream, he might have prevented something I hadn’t noticed.

Mark just wants everything to be perfect. That’s why he’s worked up.

Liv rose and stepped to the window. The pre-dawn darkness still pressed against the glass. Only the far eastern sky was starting to pale. The microwave clock read 5:00 a.m. She still had an hour before her alarm, but she knew sleep wouldn’t return. Her father’s image lingered stubbornly.

She remembered him when he was alive, gentle, perceptive, always knowing when something troubled her. Even when she was well into adulthood, he treated her as if she were still a little girl who needed watching over.

“Mark’s a good man,” her father had said after the wedding. “He’s steady, but Liv, always listen to your heart. If something feels wrong, if worry nags at you, don’t brush it aside. A woman’s intuition doesn’t lie.”

Was this intuition speaking now, or simply nerves and exhaustion?

The past few months had been difficult. Work, endless house chores, preparations for the birthday. And on top of that, Nikki called almost daily to go over party details, worried about making everything flawless.

Liv went back to the bedroom. Mark was still asleep, hadn’t shifted at all. She studied his face in the dim light, those familiar features, the gray streaks at his temples, the fine lines around his eyes. Twenty years together, two full decades of shared life, joys, and challenges they had faced side by side.

How could she think anything ill of him because of a silly dream?

She lay down again, pulled the quilt over herself, and tried to even out her breathing. She counted slowly, trying to calm her mind, but sleep refused to come. Her father’s voice echoed in her memory, urgent and uneasy.

Don’t wear the dress from your husband.

By the time the alarm went off, Liv had been awake for a long while. She stared up at the ceiling, turning the same thoughts over in her mind.

Mark stretched, yawned, and rolled toward her.

“Morning, birthday girl?” he muttered, giving her a sleepy kiss on the cheek. “Sleep well?”

“Fine,” she answered, forcing a smile, though nerves fluttered beneath it. “Just a little anxious, I guess.”

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