“It’s okay. We can start over.”
She wraps an arm around me, hugging me in the back seat of the car, Caroline getting in on it too as a good group cry turns into a group hug.
* * *
I hold my breath as I zip up the dress.
“Let this be my glass slipper moment,” Caroline whispers, adjusting the lacy bodice.
I reach the top of the zipper and my shoulders relax since it’s nice and snug. It fits perfectly.
I turn her around and gasp. “It’s even better.”
My mother nods. “She’s right. It’s simple and lovely.”
“And it doesn’t smell like beer or have a train,” Caroline says, then sighs like she’s settling into a bubble bath.
But it hardly lasts. She jerks her gaze to me. “Why did you have this again?”
That’s a whole other story, but as she hustles to my bathroom and fixes her makeup, I tell them about the store, the estate items, and the list. “I think I wanted our relationship to be real,” I admit quietly.
“Well, why can’t it be?” Caroline asks, since of course in her world she’d march up to Lake and say,“It’s real. Deal with it.”
But I’m still me. I’m not her. You don’t change that quickly. “Because it was fake. Things don’t work out that way. Sometimes you get a dress and it fits perfectly. But most of the time, fake romances don’t become real.”
My mother squeezes my shoulder. “Maybe it could be.”
Maybe, but truly for now, I need to focus on them. Myfinal romance design. “I quit being a romance designer,” I tell them, since this is evidently the day of confessions.
As Caroline brushes on pretty pink blush, I tell them more.
And once she’s done, we take turns touching up our makeup.
“For what it’s worth, you’re pretty great at events,” Caroline says.
“I’mnotgoing to be a wedding planner,” I say.
My mother laughs. “It wasn’t the worst job.”
“But it would be for me.”
“And that I understand. Now let’s get your sister down the aisle.”
And we leave, but when we return to the hotel, Caroline holds up a finger and says, “There’s one more thing I need to do.”
She marches over to Fallon and says, “Cut the live stream.”
Then she walks down the aisle in front of friends and family and marries the man who adores her while I steal glances at the hockey star in the front row, wishing I could do what Caroline would do.
But Lake’s words from earlier repeat in my head.You want to know why we faked it? I insisted on it. Because you were such a dick to her.
He finally admitted it was fake in front of everyone to save me. But he didn’t say it was real. Maybe someday I’ll be strong enough to walk over to him, grab his collar and saybe minelike I mean it.
But not today.
* **
That night, as the DJ plays a Frank Sinatra song, Lake asks me to dance. I take his hand, my heart aching with so much longing. So much wishing.
