Chapter 4
1447 Words
My heart dropped.
This wasn’t just a dress.
It was a testament that my life was about to change in the next few hours.
Growing up, I always imagined how happy I’d be choosing my wedding dress—the smile on my face, the excitement in my chest, how I’d make sure every detail was perfect.
But now?
“Hhh.” I scoffed.
I just wanted anything to wear and get on with that damn day.
“Yes, it’s good,” I said, my expression unreadable.
“That’s all?” the stylist asked.
“Yes,” I replied, turning to leave.
“Wait! You’re supposed to try the dress on,” she called after me.
“Oh…” I turned back, slightly embarrassed.
“I’m sorry.”
I’d forgotten why I was even here—and if I didn’t do this, my mom would roast me alive before her evening guests arrived.
“So you need a gown for tonight, another for the engagement party, and then one for the wedding,” she explained, gesturing to the racks. “You can see the wedding options clearly over there.”
“Yes. Anyone is fine,” I said.
“Just bring a random one. I’ll try it now.”
“Random?” she repeated, shocked.
“You don’t seem happy on your big day. Other girls take weeks—months—choosing the perfect dress.”
“That’s because they’re happy,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“They’re marrying the man of their dreams. I’m here… marrying the man of my nightmare.”
“What?” she asked, already flipping through hangers.
“Nothing,” I said. “Just bring something. Don’t waste time.”
“I’m trying here, and it would be good…” she paused.
Her eyes landed on a long, flowing gown—white at the top, fading into deep red at the hem. Sleeveless. Bold. The colors were vibrant, striking, impossible to ignore.
“This is it,” she said, letting out a breath of relief.
Then she lifted her head and looked at me.
“It would really help if you showed at least a little effort—or enthusiasm—so my job would be easier,” she added.
“Okay?” she asked.
“Sure,” I replied. “So, can we put that stunning dress to the test now?”
“Yes,” she said.
It was beautiful—too beautiful.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to fall in love with a dress meant for such a terrifying, unwanted moment in my life. But standing there, staring at it, I knew one thing.
This dress was stunning—far too stunning to resist.
“So I’m wearing this for this evening,” I said, my eyes still fixed on the dress.
“We’ll figure out the rest of the outfits another time,” I added, heading into the inner room to change.
“Well, that’s good,” she replied with a happy smile. “At least you know which occasion you want that dress for.”
Just then, the front door opened as I closed the inner room door behind me.
“Is she done? Time is running out, and we need to start getting ready.”
I knew that voice.
“Mom,” I shouted from inside.
“Are you done selecting the dress?” she asked.
“Yes, Mom. Just give me a minute—I’ll be out soon to show you,” I replied.
“Fast, little lady,” she added.
A few minutes later, I stepped out.
“Look at that body,” my stylist said in awe.
“Wow… I’m too stunned to speak. I just need a few seconds to reboot,” my mom said as she walked out of the room.
“Mom!” I laughed, unable to hold it in.
She was such a drama queen.
She opened the door and walked back in.
“Wait—this is my daughter,” she said to the stylist.
“Yeah,” my stylist replied, laughing heartily.
“No, I don’t think you understand,” my mom continued seriously. “She is my daughter. She was in me for nine good months.”
“Mom,” I called again.
“Did you hear her?” my mom asked, still facing the stylist.
“Yes,” the stylist replied, now laughing so hard she dropped onto a chair.
“She called me her mother,” my mom said, rushing over to me.
“Oh, my baby, this dress is drop-dead gorgeous,” she added, examining every inch of me.
“Yes, it is,” I said, smiling back at her.
“Wow, Mrs. Bertha, you’re really good at this,” my mom said.
“Thank you, ma,” she replied, wiping away tears from her laughing fit.
“Okay, you need to get glammed up right now,” my mom said, clapping her hands.
“Wow, you switch so fast, Madam,” I said.
I never understood how she could change moods in seconds. It was hilarious.
“Yeah, so glam, glam me away to my forbidden forest,” I muttered.
“You said what?” my mom turned to me.
“Glam, glam, glam—glam me away,” I replied, smiling deeply, trying to cover what I’d just said.
“Oh,” she said.
“We’ve got three hours before Gerald and his family get here. And that guest your grandfather invited—he’ll be arriving soon. So get ready, okay? I love you,” she added, then turned to leave.
Jenny was the only person I wanted to talk to right now, but I knew she’d be busy with her brother’s big day.
“Let’s get ready,” I said to the makeup artist, facing the vanity and staring at my reflection.
“Sure,” she replied, bringing out her equipment.
I stared into the mirror.
In a few hours, I’d officially be sold off. It felt like being sent to my death in a golden coffin.
I didn’t like that.
But at least it’s golden, I thought.
I laughed softly. I was always good at laughing at my own wild thoughts.
“Would you like to go fierce or calm?” the makeup artist asked.
“Who goes into a losing battle without looking fierce?” I replied.
She paused. “Okay,” she said.
An hour later—
Grrrrr.
My phone vibrated on the table.
“One second, please,” I said.
“It’s fine. I can continue while you take the call,” she replied.
“Well, if that’s okay,” I said, picking up my phone.
“Hello, bride-to-be.”
“Ahhh, Jenny! And I was just thinking of calling you,” I said.
“We’re getting into the car now. We’ll be there soon. Are you ready?” she asked excitedly.
I didn’t know how to tell her that everyone seemed happy about the saddest chapter of my life.
“Yeah,” I replied quietly.
“Megan, I know this isn’t what you want. But please, can we get through today with a smile? I promise my brother won’t bully you or treat you badly. Please—”
“Jenny,” I cut in. “Don’t lecture me now. I’ve lived my life for my family, and now even my marriage is for them. I’m just trying to process everything. But they’re my family, and if I had to choose again, I’d still choose this path. So don’t feel guilty, okay?”
“God, I love you,” she said.
“I love you more,” I replied, smiling.
“I can’t wait to see your dress. You didn’t even send a picture!”
“There wasn’t time. But it’s a surprise,” I said.
A gentle tap touched my shoulder.
“I’m done,” the makeup artist said.
“I’ll call you back,” I told Jenny and hung up.
“Thank you,” I said softly.
My phone buzzed again.
*Come down. Guests have started arriving.*
Of course, it was my mom.
“I need to go,” I muttered.
I lifted my gown and hurried down the stairs, but at the last step, the fabric caught on the metal railing.
“Of course everything has to go wrong today,” I muttered in frustration, tugging at the dress.
“Hello, lady.”
A familiar voice spoke.
“Took you a while. Guests are already arriving. Need help?”
“No, could you—” I stopped and looked up.
“Wait,” I said softly, studying his face.
The hair.
Curly.
I remembered.
- Writer
