THE BRIDAL SWITCH

CHAPTER THREE

​POV: Amanda

​The car ride back to the family estate was silent because my mother was busy typing on her phone, and I kept looking out the window at the morning traffic while I tried to ignore the feeling of my stomach turning over. We pulled into the driveway where three black vans were already parked, and a team of people in black outfits began unloading garment bags and vanity cases as soon as we stepped out of the vehicle. My mother grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the grand staircase, and her grip was so tight that I knew there was no turning back now that the wedding machine was in motion.

​"Take her to the dressing room and start with the hair, because we only have three hours before the cars arrive to take us to the church," my mother shouted to a woman holding a clipboard, and she pushed me into the center of the room where a large vanity mirror was surrounded by bright, blinding lights.

​"She looks a bit pale today, Mrs. Hart, so do you want me to go heavier on the foundation to cover the dark circles under her eyes?" the makeup artist asked, and she reached out to tilt my chin up while she inspected my face with a magnifying glass.

​"She didn't sleep well because of the pre-wedding nerves, so just do whatever you have to do to make her look like the happiest bride in the city," my mother replied, and she sat down on a velvet sofa in the corner and watched me like a hawk.

​"I don't think I can do this, Mom, because my hands are shaking so much that I can't even hold a glass of water," I whispered when the makeup artist turned away to grab a set of brushes, but my mother just glared at me through the reflection in the mirror.

​"Stop being a child and sit still, because Audrey wouldn't be shaking, and she certainly wouldn't be whispering like a mouse," she snapped, and she stood up to walk over and stand behind my chair. "Audrey doesn't hesitate when she speaks, and she never looks unsure of herself, so I need you to straighten your back and fix your expression right now."

​"But I'm not her, and every time I look in the mirror, I feel like I'm looking at a stranger," I said, and I watched as the stylist began pinning my chestnut hair into the elaborate updos that Audrey always preferred.

​"That's the point, Amanda, as you are not supposed to be yourself today, and if you want those shares, you will learn how to mimic her every move before we leave this house," she said, and then she turned to the stylist and told her to make the bun tighter.

​The next two hours were a blur of hairspray and powder and sharp commands, and I had to sit there while they glued false lashes to my lids and painted my lips a bold shade of red that I would never choose for myself. Every time I tried to relax my face, my mother would bark a correction at me, telling me that Audrey smiled with more teeth or that Audrey held eye contact without blinking so much. I practiced the way Audrey tilted her head when she was bored, and I tried to pitch my voice higher to match her bubbly tone, but it felt like I was wearing a mask that was two sizes too small for my soul.

​"Try the greeting again, and this time, act like you actually want to see the person you are talking to," my mother said, and she leaned against the doorframe while the stylists moved to the next room to prepare the veil.

​"Hello, Leo, it’s so wonderful to see you today," I said, and I tried to put that sharp, confident edge in my voice that Audrey used when she wanted something from a man.

​"No, that was too soft, and you sounded like you were asking for permission to speak," she corrected, and she walked over to adjust the lace on my shoulder. "Audrey is the one in charge of every conversation, so you need to look at him like he belongs to you and like you deserve everything he has."

​"Is that how she treats him? Like a prize?" I asked, and I wondered what kind of man Leo Sandler really was if he hadn't noticed that his fiancée treated him like a business transaction.

​"It doesn't matter how she treats him, as long as you make him believe that nothing has changed since the accident," she said, and then she waved her hand toward the massive white gown hanging on the wardrobe. "Now get into the dress, and be careful with the silk because it cost more than your car."

​Two assistants helped me step into the layers of lace and tulle, and the weight of the gown was so heavy that it felt like I was being anchored to the floor while they zipped me up and fastened the row of tiny pearl buttons down my back. They placed the diamond tiara on my head and draped the long lace veil over my face, and when I finally stood up and looked at myself in the full-length mirror, I felt a cold shiver run down my spine.

​The woman in the reflection didn't have my quiet grey eyes or my gentle expression, and instead, she looked sharp and glamorous and untouchable, just like the sister who had spent years making me feel invisible. I reached out to touch the glass, and for a second, I expected the image to change back to the girl who liked to read in the dark and stay out of the spotlight, but the stranger in the white dress just stared back at me with Audrey’s face.

​"Perfect," my mother whispered from behind me, and she placed her hands on my shoulders and squeezed until it hurt. "Even I can't tell the difference now, so if you just keep your mouth shut and follow the plan, we might actually get away with this."

​The stylists came back into the room to give me my bouquet of white roses, and as I gripped the stems, I realized that I couldn't feel my fingers anymore because they were numb from the coldness of the room. I looked at the reflection one last time, wondering if my father would even recognize me if he were still alive, or if I had finally become the daughter my mother always wanted me to be.

​"If I disappear into this life and never come back... will anyone even notice I'm gone?" I whispered to the empty air.