Before our wedding, Emmett Mercer brought his first love to try on my wedding dress. The dress had been altered six times. Tucked into the waist were pearls I'd taken from my mother's old evening gown. I'd sewn on every one by hand. Standing in front of the mirror, his first love said the fit was perfect. It was just a shame she had no wedding to wear it to. Emmett adjusted her veil, then turned to me and announced his decision. "We're canceling our ceremony for now. Her father's seriously ill. His only wish is to see her get married, so I'm doing a pretend wedding with her." I thought I'd misheard him. Then he told me to lend her my ring, too. "It's only for 3 days. You'll get everything back after the ceremony. You've been with me for 8 years. Can't you trust me this much?" I asked him what that meant for me. The guests had already been notified. My father was memorizing his wedding speech, and there were only enough pearls on the old evening gown for this one wedding dress. His patience vanished. "They're just a few pearls some dead person left behind. Why should everyone have to bend over backward for you? If you're going to make such a fuss, we can forget about ever having a wedding." Whenever he said that, I used to be the first to give in. This time, though, I looked at the woman in the mirror wearing my wedding dress and suddenly thought how well it all fit. The dress suited her. So did the ring. They suited each other, too. The tailor asked whether I still wanted the dress altered. I picked up the measuring tape from the table and cut it at the mark for my measurements. There were still 20 days left. That was enough time to put a new bride in my place, and enough time for me to learn to stop waiting for him.