Just to coordinate wedding stuff, obviously.
And maybe to remind her that I’m still thinking about her.
Still waiting for her to stop running.
Still planning exactly what I’ll do when she finally does.
I step onto the porch, beer in hand, and look out at nothing but trees and stars. No streetlights. No traffic sounds. Just wilderness and silence and the kind of solitude that used to feel like peace. Now it just feels like waiting.
Chapter 4
Claire
The boutique smells like gardenias and orange blossom when I push through the door of Bella’s Bridal, fifteen minutes early because I’m always early. A compulsion left over from medical school that I can’t shake, especially when I’m nervous.
I shouldn’t be, but this isn’t just a fitting.
Hunter’s going to be here.
I sign in at the front desk, an antique sideboard with a glass doors that showcases a mix of bridal bouquets and veils. The receptionist hands me a glass of champagne then guides me toward the back where Esme is seated on one of the pink velour sofas, beaming.
I lean down and kiss my girlfriend’s cheek, plopping next to her as we wait for the others.
“This is a big day.”
She squeal, almost dropping her champagne flute. “I can’t wait to see you in the dresses!”
This is our first fitting since the order was placed, so I’m excited to see the gowns everyone chose. Esme’s color palette is sunset satin, with mis-matched dresses warm tones.
Soon, the other bridesmaids join us, and the shop coordinator rolls the dress bags between the large guilded mirror and the changing rooms. Each bag is tagged with a name, mine being first from the left.
Adele, the seamstress, pulls my dress from the bag with practiced efficiency. “Claire?”
I stand and follow her behind the soft pink curtain, where I remove my clothing except for my strapless bra and underwear.
“Arms up.”
I do as instructed, and she slides the dress over my head. The material is cool against my skin, the lining smooth as it settles over my hips. She zips me up the side, then steps back while I step into my wedding shoes.
“Take a look.”
I turn toward the three-way mirror, and blink back at the woman in the mirror.
The sage green dress hugs my body, its cowl neckline dipping low enough to be interesting. The fabric skims my curves before falling to just past my ankles. I look good.
And Hunter’s going to see me like this.
My stomach clenches, sharp and sudden, like my body recognized him before I could think about it.
“Beautiful,” Adele says, opening the curtain. “Step onto the left platform.” She’s already reaching for her pincushion.
I step onto the round bridal riser, suddenly confronted by my own reflection. A feminine Claire in sage green, looking slightly panicked.
“I love it, Claire!” Esme’s voice is high-pitched.
“It’s stunning on you.” That’s her friend from high school.
The bridesmaids ooh and aww appropriately while Adele kneels and examines the hem, tugging at the fabric and pinning near my ankles.
