“Mara,” she says softly, stepping closer. “Hey…hey, breathe.”
I shake my head. “I can’t…” The words catch. “I can’t do this.”
“Okay,” she says quickly, calm and steady. “Okay, it’s all right. Take it off. We’ll take it off.”
She signals the attendant, who fumbles with the back of the dress. My skin feels like it’s burning. The zipper catches. My hands tremble.
Valentina’s voice cuts through the panic, low and even. “Look at me, Mara. Just look at me.”
I do. Her face is steady, eyes kind. Grounding.
The dress loosens. I breathe. Barely.
Vera’s voice breaks through the quiet. “What is happening?”
Valentina doesn’t look at her. “She’s done for today.”
“This is absurd. She’s marrying into?—”
“She’s done,” Valentina says again, sharper this time.
Vera falters, unused to being told no. She mutters something in Russian under her breath and leaves the room in a cloudof perfume and indignation. The door clicks. The silence that follows feels like relief.
Valentina exhales slowly, then gestures toward the dressing bench. “Sit.”
I do. My hands are shaking. My chest hurts. I press my palms to my knees and stare at the floor. The carpet’s patterned in tiny flowers, gold and cream, and the sight of them makes my eyes sting all over again. Valentina crouches in front of me, fingers gentle on my wrists.
“You’re okay,” she says softly. “You’re okay.”
“I’m not,” I whisper. “I thought maybe if I tried hard enough, I’d get used to it. That it would stop feeling like…like someone else’s life.”
Her expression softens. “It’s a lot, I know.”
“It’s not the dress,” I say, voice cracking. “It’s everything. It’s all of it. The planning, the pretending, the waiting. I keep thinking if I just keep moving, it’ll make sense. But it doesn’t. None of it does.”
She squeezes my hand. “You don’t have to make sense of it right now.”
“I thought I’d be happy. Or at least numb. But it’s worse than that. It’s like…” I search for the word. “Like I’m disappearing.”
Valentina opens her mouth, but another voice cuts in from the door.
“I’ll take it from here.”.
I look up, startled. Alessia’s leaning against the doorway, coat still on, eyes already softening when she sees my face.
“I told myself I’d wait outside,” she says, stepping in. “But I heard Vera and I thought,nope. Not today.”
Valentina straightens. “I was about to call you.”
“I figured.” Alessia crosses the room, drops to the floor beside Valentina, and wraps an arm around me without hesitation. “Breathe, baby. Just breathe. Dresses aren’tsupposed to make you cry unless they’re couture and you can’t afford them.”
A shaky laugh escapes me before I can stop it. It’s small, but it’s real.
“There she is,” Alessia murmurs. “That’s my girl.”
Valentina stands, scanning the room like she’s making decisions only she knows how to execute. “We’re leaving. Now. Before Vera gets ideas.”
Alessia nods. “She’s already halfway to plotting an ambush.”
