365 days with Ethan Cole

That won’t be necessary

Ariana POV

The delivery truck was just leaving the building when Clara appeared in my doorway, practically bouncing with excitement.

“It’s finally here, isn’t it?” she said, eyeing the white box on my bed.

I nodded, suddenly feeling the weight of tomorrow settling on my shoulders.

We carefully untied the silk ribbon and lifted the lid. The dress was perfectly folded in the box, every pearl and bead was exactly where it should be.

“The alterations look perfect…they really know their stuff,” I said, lifting it gently to examine the hem of the dress. My throat felt tight for some reason. Tomorrow, I would put this on and walk down an aisle to marry a man I barely knew. For a year.

“Hey.” Clara’s voice was softer now. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just… it’s really happening, isn’t it?”

Before Clara could answer, the doorbell chimed downstairs. Through my window, I watched a taxi pull away, and Emma l standing on the front steps with an overnight bag.

“What the hell …What’s Emma doing here?” Clara frowned clearly as surprised as I was.

We made our way downstairs, Maria already opening the door.

“Ariana!” Emma’s smile was so bright it was almost blinding. “Surprise!”

“Emma?” I blinked. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about tomorrow.” Emma shifted her bag nervously. “You’re getting married, and I’ve been such a terrible sister lately. I was hoping… maybe I could stay here tonight? Like when we were kids?”

Clara and I exchanged glances. This was definitely not typical Emma behavior.

“You want to stay here? Tonight?” I asked slowly.

“I know it’s last minute.” Emma’s voice sounded vulnerable ..something I haven’t heard since we were children. “But you’re my only sister, Ariana. I don’t want to miss being part of your wedding preparations. I’ve been feeling awful about how distant we have been.”

Something twisted in my chest. How long had I wanted to hear Emma say something like this?

“I don’t know…” I started.

“Please?” Emma’s eyes looked genuinely hurt. “I brought nail polish, face masks, all that sister stuff. I just want one night where we can be… us. Like before everything got complicated.”

Clara was studying Emma with suspicion, but I found myself wavering. Maybe she really was trying to make amends. Maybe this was my chance to get my sister back. We used to be pretty close. I don't know when everything fell apart.

“Okay,” I said finally. “You can stay.”

“Really?” Emma’s whole face lit up. “Thank you so much, Ariana. This means everything to me.”

As we headed upstairs, I caught Clara’s questioning look.

“What?” I whispered.

“Since when does Emma do vulnerable sister bonding?” she whispered back.

“People change…and we are both watching her. If she tries anything funny we smack her head with a pan,” I said, but I wasn’t entirely convinced.

Back in my room, Emma immediately walked towards the dress box.

“Can I see it? Please? I’m dying to know how the alterations turned out.”

I opened the box again, and Emma’s reaction was everything I had ever wanted from a sister.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, her hands hovering over the silk like she was afraid to touch it. “Ariana, this is absolutely perfect. Look at how they adjusted the neckline, and the way the beadwork catches the light. You’re going to look like an actual princess.”

My throat tightened with emotion. “You really think so?”

“I know so.” Emma looked up at me with tears in her eyes. “Ethan’s going to forget how to breathe when he sees you in this.”

For the first time in years, Emma’s praise felt genuine.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

We spent the evening doing all the sister things I’d dreamed about. Emma painted my nails a soft pink while I did hers in a complementary coral. We applied face masks and talked about everything from hairstyles to flowers to whether I was nervous about tomorrow.

“Are you happy?” Emma asked as we lay in our beds around midnight, the room was dark except for the streetlights filtering through my curtains.

I considered the question. “I think so. It’s complicated, but… yeah. I think I am.”

“Good,” Emma said softly. “You deserve to be happy, Ariana. You’ve always deserved the best.”

My chest ached with how much Imissed this version of my sister. “I’m really glad you’re here, Emma.”

“Me too. Sleep well, bride-to-be.”

As I drifted off, I felt more at peace about tomorrow than I had since this whole thing started. Having Emma here, being supportive and loving, made everything feel better.

The next morning arrived in a whirlwind of activity. My hair stylist knocked on the door at seven sharp, followed by the makeup artist at eight. The photographer appeared shortly after, wanting to capture every moment of the preparation process.

My room transformed into organized chaos. Emma helped coordinate everyone while Clara ran interference with phone calls and last-minute details. For once, Emma was being genuinely helpful….fetching coffee, adjusting lighting for photos, even calming my nerves when the makeup artist had to redo my lipstick twice.

“You look gorgeous,” Emma said, watching the final touches being applied to my hair. “Seriously, Ariana. You’re glowing.”

“It’s just the makeup,” I said, but I was smiling.

“No, it’s the glow all new brides have,” Emma corrected. “It looks good on you.”

By ten-thirty, everything was nearly ready. The car would arrive at eleven to take us to the venue. All that was left was putting on the dress.

“Okay, ladies,” the photographer announced. “Time for the main event. Let’s get the bride into her gown.”

Clara moved toward the dress box while Emma positioned herself to help with buttons. I went to the bathroom for one final mirror check, my stomach was fluttering from nervousness.

When I came out, Clara was standing frozen beside my bed, the dress box open in front of her.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, but the expression on her face already told me everything.

“Ariana,” Clara’s voice was barely a whisper. “Look.”

I moved closer and felt the world tilt beneath my feet…and it was not my normal clumsiness this time.

My dress was destroyed. It had been deliberately cut to pieces. The bodice was separated from the skirt, the sleeves had been sliced off completely, and delicate beadwork was scattered across the ruined silk like snow.

The silence in the room was deafening.

“What…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Oh my God,” Emma gasped from behind me. “What happened? Who would do this?”

Clara’s head snapped toward Emma, her eyes blazing. “Really? You’re going to stand there and act surprised?”

“Clara!” I said sharply.

“What are you implying?” Emma’s voice pitched higher.

“I’m not implying anything,” Clara shot back. “I’m saying it outright. You did this.”

“That’s insane!” Emma’s face flushed red. “Why would I destroy my own sister’s wedding dress?”

“Because you’ve been jealous of Ariana your entire life!”

“Clara, stop,” I said, but my voice sounded far away.

The photographer had backed against the wall, clearly uncomfortable. The hair stylist and makeup artist were whispering to each other, not sure whether to stay or go.

“I can’t believe you’re accusing me of this,” Emma said, and there were actual tears in her eyes. “I came here to support Ariana. I spent the entire night helping with wedding preparations. I love my sister!”

“Then explain how this happened,” Clara demanded.

“I don’t know! Maybe someone broke in? Maybe it was damaged in shipping and you just didn’t notice yesterday?”

I stared at the ruined dress, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. The cuts were clean, and deliberate. This wasn’t an accident.

“Maybe we should call the police,” the photographer suggested quietly.

“The police?” Emma looked genuinely shocked. “Over a torn dress?”

“A destroyed wedding dress,” Clara corrected. “One that was perfectly fine last night when we checked it.”

My phone rang, interrupting the tense silence. Mom’s name flashed on the screen, but before I could answer, I heard her voice in the hallway.

“Ariana? Where is everyone? The car will be here soon—”

Mom appeared in my doorway, took one look at the scene, and her face went white.

“What on earth happened here?”

“Someone destroyed the dress,” I said quietly, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears.

Mom rushed to the bed, staring at the ruined silk in horror. “Who would do such a vile thing?”

The room fell into stunned silence. Emma’s sobs grew louder.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Emma choked out between tears. “Ariana, I’m so sorry. You must be devastated. After all the planning, all the excitement… who would want to ruin your perfect day?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Mom cooed, immediately pulling Emma into her arms. “Look how upset you are for your sister. You have such a good heart.”

I watched this display feeling numb. Emma was putting on quite a performance.

“We need to figure out what to do,” the photographer said quietly. “The ceremony starts in less than an hour.”

Mom looked around the room frantically. “What about… oh! I have an idea. My old wedding dress is still in the attic. It’s not ideal, but…”

“Mom, that dress is thirty years old,” I said flatly.

“But it’s ivory colored, and with some safety pins we could make it work. It’s not like we have other options, honey.”

I pictured myself walking down the aisle in Mom’s yellowed, outdated dress that would hang off me like a sack. The thought made me want to crawl under the covers and hide.

“I don’t know if—” I started.

“It’ll be beautiful,” Emma said through her tears. “Ariana, you look gorgeous in anything. And think of how meaningful it would be, wearing Mom’s dress.”

Everyone murmured in agreement. The makeup artist nodded encouragingly. The photographer suggested it would make for a sweet story.

“I’ll call Dad to get it from the attic right now,” Mom said, already reaching for her phone.

I sat there feeling trapped. In less than an hour, I was supposed to walk down an aisle to marry Ethan Cole in front of hundreds of people, wearing a dress that would probably fall apart if I moved too quickly.

“Maybe we should postpone,” I said quietly.

“Postpone?” Mom looked horrified. “Honey, all those people are already at the venue. The flowers, the catering, the musicians…everything’s ready.”

“But I don’t have a proper dress—”

Heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway, interrupting my protest. Everyone turned toward the door as a familiar figure filled the doorway.

Ethan stood there in his perfectly tailored black tuxedo, looking like he stepped off the cover of a magazine. His dark eyes took in the scene…the destroyed dress, Emma’s tear-streaked face, Mom hovering protectively, the general chaos of my bedroom.

“That won’t be necessary,” he said calmly.