"That's a lot to worry about Quinn and it’s a valid thought. I’m so sorry you are feeling this way and there’s nothing I can do to change it," he says.
"No," I reply. "there's not."
"If he's worth marrying," Daithí says, "he'll find the truth. He'll look for it and he'll find it and he'll understand what happened, and if he doesn't, that's his failure, Quinn. Not yours. You've been carrying other people's failures your whole life. That one's not yours to pick up."
He wipes a stray tear from my cheek. "You've always had me," he says, softly. "Even when I wasn't protecting you, you've always had me."
I nod because right now, I don't trust my voice.
"And Caden," he adds, rolling his eyes, which I know he’s trying to add light to the situation.
"And Caden," I agree, and it almost comes out like a laugh.
"And Conn, when he eventually sorts his head out."
I look at him. That’s never going to happen and for him to believe that is crazy talk.
He looks back steadily. "That's a later conversation."
"Yes," I say. "It is."
Fiona appears in the doorway with the next dress. “Sorry to interrupt,” she says, her cheeks rising with a red hue. “But I think I found the dress.”
I see it before she hands it to me. The color is Ivory, not white like all the other dresses that I’ve tried on and it has straps at the shoulders that aren’t too thick.
My heart starts to stammer and I rush over to Fiona. She must see the excitement in my eyes because she grins while we move to the changing room.
She helps me into it, carefully pulling the fabric up my body before fastening the buttons at the back. The material is smooth against my skin, and I’m in love without even looking at it.
I glance down as Fiona adjusts the bodice, my breath catching.
The square neckline sits perfectly, the fitted bodice hugging me in all the right places without making me feel trapped. The dress follows my curves all the way down before flaring out just above my knees.
A mermaid silhouette, exactly what I wanted.
It doesn't hide me, it doesn't swallow me whole.
For once, I don't immediately start looking for flaws.
Fiona steps back, smoothing her hands down the dress. “Ready?”
I don’t think I am, but I nod anyway. I step out of the changing room and onto the platform and catch sight of me in the mirrors. For a second, I genuinely don’t recognize the woman staring back at me.
The ivory against my skin is softer than the harsh white of the other dresses, warmer somehow, and the clean lines make everything look sharper and more elegant. The dress makes me look taller, my waist smaller, my curves softer but somehow more noticeable at the same time.
It’s modern, but there’s something timeless about it too. It’s sophisticated and beautiful.
My throat tightens, because for the first time all day, maybe for the first time since this whole thing started, I feel beautiful.
Not the second choice, not the replacement bride. Just… me.
I slowly turn, catching sight of the low back in the mirror, the neat row of buttons trailing down, the soft train pooling behind me.
“Oh,” I whisper, my hand lifting to my chest.
Fiona smiles softly behind me. “That sounds promising.”
Daithí looks up from his phone at our voices and looks at me. He doesn't say anything for a moment and I watch him process it, watch pride and love move across his face.
