“Please just call me Lia. If you need to add a miss in there, Miss Lia is just fine. Using my whole name is a mouthful.”
The attendant smiles at me and then leads me back to a very large dressing room where a few dresses have been hung, waiting to be tried on. Three very grotesque, ballgown-shaped dresses, three slender silhouette dresses—that look more like nightgowns than anything—and two mermaid-style dresses that look like they have absolutely no give.
“Here is a robe for you,” the assistant says. “Why don’t you get changed out of your clothes and dressed in the robe, and an attendant will come in and assist you?”
“Great. Thank you.” When the door closes, I set my coffee and purse down on the provided table and then slip out of my shirt and pants. I’m not one to be naked in front of strangers, so I wore a pair of boy short underwear that covers up a lot—I’m sure The Beave would be horrified—and my least revealing strapless bra.
I slip on the light pink silk robe, cinch it at the waist, and then I sit down in the chair and stare at the dresses.
I hate them.
All of them.
Too many embellishments.
Too slinky.
Too poofy.
Not enough space in the dress to walk.
They’re nothing I would pick for myself.
I always thought I’d wear something simple with maybe a touch of lace, not these full, fabric-filled dresses that need a crane operator to get it on.
What is supposed to be a fun, once-in-a-lifetime moment has quickly turned into a sad, bleak day that I’m sure will live forever in my mind as a dark memory, right along with the moment I found out my parents passed away.
I rest my head against the wall behind me and bring my coffee to my lips. I just want this to be over. I want it all to be over.
The planning.
The wedding.
The pain.
I want to be transported back to a time when everything is okay with Breaker, and I’m not so alone, but surrounded by loved ones. I want him at my side, telling jokes, making me laugh, and letting me know that no matter what, he’ll always be there for me.
But he’s not.
Not today.
Tears well in my eyes, and I quickly blink them back.
No, don’t cry.
Please don’t cry.Not here, not now.
Not in front of Brian’s mom.
Knock. Knock.
Fuck. I blink the tears back some more and quickly dab at them. Maybe I can pass the watery eyes off as excitement for the dresses. With a heavy heart, I call out, “I’m ready.”
The door opens, and I expect the assistant to walk through, but instead, Breaker steps in, absolutely stealing every ounce of oxygen from my lungs. His eyes connect with mine as he gently shuts the door behind him.
My heart races at the sight of him.
My emotions get the best of me.
