She lifts an eyebrow. “Watch me.”
With a sigh and a grin, I step into the fitting room where three gowns are waiting. I don’t even know how the assistant knew my size, but they all look like they’ll fit perfectly. I swallow thickly, the emotion of the moment beginning to press down on me.
The first dress is straight out of a princess fairytale—poofy, tiered, and dramatic. It’s beautiful, but not me. I’m not the girl who once dreamed of tulle and tiaras anymore.
Still, I put it on and step out.
Anna cheers loudly. “Dress number one!”
“It’s giving me serious Marshmallow Man energy,” I say, laughing.
“I mean, you’re not wrong,” Anna says, biting her lip to stop from bursting into full-on cackles.
And so the fashion show begins.
Some dresses are almost right, and others are so far off the mark that we can only laugh. One makes me look like a bedazzled swan. Another resembles a disco ball in motion. By dress twenty-nine, I’m sweaty, mildly sore, and convinced the right gown doesn’t exist in this store.
Then the assistant appears, a garment bag draped over her arm. “We do have one I haven’t shown you yet,” she says, a little conspiratorially, like she’s saved the best for last.
Curious, I unzip the bag and freeze.
My heart skips.
It’s stunning.
A deep plunging neckline draws the eye to its elegant shape, while fine ivory lace clings to the bodice with painstaking detail. Then the fabric flows down into a softly flared lace train. The back mirrors the deep V of the front, bordered in more intricate lacework that looks hand-stitched. It’s a cross between the elegance of the old Deliah Norman and the sexiness of the rock chick that Colt fell in love with.
The woman he made me into.
A perfect blend of who I was and who I have become.
I run my hand over the gown, my heart hammering.
“Did you fall over in there or what?” Anna calls.
“No, just found the one… I think.”
I slip it on, careful and reverent. It molds to me perfectly, as if it were made for me. The fabric whispers over my skin. The plunge in the front shows just enough for it to be dramatic and sexy, but not so much that Daddy will have heart failure. The silk clings to my curves, making me feel like, despite everything I have just been through, that when Colt sees me in this, he will think I am the sexiest woman he has ever seen.
Because I feel it.
I feel like Iamsexy in this.
I feel regal in this.
How a dress can make you feel both prim and proper, and like a sex god at the same time, is beyond me. But that is what this dress is doing, and that isexactlywhat I was after.
With a bright smile, I take a steadying breath and step out.
Anna gasps. “Oh, Dee,” she whispers, eyes glassy.
Even the assistant pauses, smiling softly.
I haven’t even seen myself yet.
Anna stands, walking over slowly. “There have been some great ones. And some horrors. But this?” She turns me gently toward the mirror. “This isthe one.”
And when I see myself—really see—I know she is right.
