“I think it probably felt like the natural progression. You were together a long time.”
Natural progression.
“Is it natural progression if you’re just going through the motions?” I don’t wait for her to answer, the question enough to open the flood gates. “It felt like a fairy tale at first,” I admit. “Carter moved to Wintervale and he was really charming, and I was flattered that he asked me on a date.” I chuff out a humorless laugh. “So many of the girls in my class were jealous, and then he asked me to be his girlfriend and I liked that too.”
“It’s okay that you loved the guy you were supposed to marry,” she says gently.
“I was justexisting,Wren. I woke up one day and all of a sudden things were justthere—my job, our condo, our relationship. He told me it didn’t matter if I took the promotion at work because he wanted me home waiting for him, a doting wife with a full schedule of volunteer events. Not to mention, his mother and her friends planned our wedding.” I stare at the closet that holds my wedding dress. “I hated that dress.”
“It wasn’t you,” she agrees and I nod.
“I found it in the city.” Sighing, I add, “But when we came to Wintervale to meet with the wedding planner, I popped into Dress Me Up. I wasn’t really looking but I saw a dress there, tried it on, and it was just so perfect. Broke my heart to leave it.”
“Why didn’t you get it?”
“His mother hated it, but also”—I pause, trying to find the words—“I didn’t feel right marrying Carter in it. I guess I should thank the Hanes matriarch for that.” I add the last part with a wry grin.
The admission hangs between us as Wren’s eyebrows creep up her forehead again.
“And who do you think you’d feelrightmarrying in your dream dress?”
“I—I don’t know,” I stammer, making her roll her eyes.
“No one?” She snorts. “You can think ofno one?”
“Did he tell you?”
“Is there something to tell?” she fires back, her smile growing wider as our exchange continues.
“We kissed—that’s it, okay? I was overwhelmed and I just… I don’t know. It was impulsive and he said it was a mistake and then it wasreallyawkward because I still needed him to help me out of the dress,” I lament, covering my face with my hands. “He’s still mad.”
Wren laughs. “No, he’s not.”
“He told me it was amistake,Wren,” I say, facing her again.
“I’ll bet he was saying thetimingwas a mistake—notthe kiss.” I open my mouth and then close it, as I ponder that new revelation. “My brother is a lot of things, Pen, but he’s not an idiot. Not when it comes to you. So yeah, I bet he pulled away and I’m sure he’s giving you space, but sweetie, you were in a wedding dress that wasn’t for him.”
You were in a wedding dress that wasn’t for him.
It’s unnerving that it all comes down to a dress.
Or the idea of a dress.
“But what about now?” I ask, my mind still reeling. “It’s not like he doesn’t know where I am.”
“He’s probably giving you space. It’s a lot, Pen. He took Beau’s keys and hauled ass outta there because you needed him and he’d do anything for you. How’s he supposed to know what you need if you don’t even know what you need?”
I don’t like that she’s right.
But instead of commenting, I take her hand, weaving our fingers together before I turn to look at her.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t around.”
Wren and I had been close, not as close as Lake and me, but still close.
“I know,” she says with a small smile, squeezing my hand before grinning like a fool. “You have bigger fish to fry.”
“What?”
