13.

~CAKE~

By the time we arrived, the place felt… unreal.

The suite Nico arranged sat tucked into the estate like it had grown there naturally, as if it belonged to the land and not to money. Wide glass panels. Pale stone floors. Soft lights that didn’t demand attention but still somehow made everything glow.

My mother stopped just inside the doorway, pretending she’s fine.

I know she isn’t, because she keeps adjusting things that don’t need adjusting. The sleeve of her blouse. The strap of her handbag. The same curl near her ear she’s already fixed three times.

Rosa Coogan does not fidget unless something matters too much.

“You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to,” I tell her gently as we stand inside the suite.

She gives me a look. “And miss my daughter’s wedding preparations? I will never forgive myself.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, Cake.” She smiles as she steps in, her hands clasped in front of her, eyes slowly moving from the high ceilings to the furniture to the view beyond the glass.

I smiled, and it felt right.

Elianna, on the other hand, walked in like she’d been here before. Like she owned the place in another lifetime. She dropped her bag on one of the chairs and glanced around with mild interest.

“It’s cute,” she said.

“Cute.” I snorted before I could stop myself.

“Cute?” I repeated. “This place could swallow our entire apartment and still have room to breathe.”

She shrugged. “My dad’s guest house is bigger.”

Mum gasped softly, scandalized, and Elianna grinned, unrepentant.

That was the thing about her. Wealth never startled her. It never bowed her spine or made her careful with her words. She moved through spaces like this with ease, while Mum and I kept touching things like we needed to confirm they were real.

Dinner was just the three of us.

Mum tried her best to relax. I could tell. She sat straighter than usual, smiled a little too often, thanked us twice, like we were the ones who provided the space.

I watched her hands instead, how they tightened around her fork, how she smoothed her napkin again and again like it might wrinkle if she didn’t keep an eye on it.

After dinner, Nico’s reasoning finally surfaced. The suite wasn’t meant for three.

It was meant for me.

A private bridal space. I’d refused.

I’d told him plainly that if my mother and my best friend weren’t staying with me the night before my wedding, then I wouldn’t stay at all. That I’d sleep anywhere else. A hotel. A guest room. Anywhere.

He’d gone quiet on the phone. Not angry. Just… calculating.

Then he’d agreed.

Now, as Mum took the other bedroom and Elianna and I claimed the one we’d share, the weight of that decision settled over me.

I wasn’t alone. And I wasn’t letting myself be.

We’d barely finished unpacking when my phone rang.

Nico.

I stared at the screen for a second before answering. “Yes?”

“There’s a car outside,” he said, “It will take you to your wedding dress fitting.”

My stomach flipped. “I haven’t—”

“There’s no time for indecision,” he interrupted smoothly. “The wedding is tomorrow. Try it on. If it fits, we’re done.”

“And if I don’t like it?”

“You will.” The call ended.

Elianna stared at me. “…he didn’t even say goodbye, did he?”

“Nope.”

She grinned. “God, I can’t wait to insult him without fear of dying the next minute.”

We dressed quickly. Nothing fancy. I pulled on shorts and a tank top, tied a scarf around my neck to hide the bruises from my fight last night, and slipped on dark sunglasses to cover my eye. Wearing my brown sandals. Easy.

If Nico saw how slightly purple my eye was right now, I was convinced he’d bruise the other one himself, just to make it even.

The driver was already waiting. I remember him from the night he dropped me home after the shopping spree.

Ignacio.

He smiled the moment he saw us. “Good Evening, ladies.”

Elianna slid into the back seat like she belonged there. “Play something fun or I riot.”

Ignacio laughed and obliged.

The ride was… unexpectedly perfect. Music humming low. Elianna chatted with Ignacio like they were old friends. Laughing, and having inside jokes.

At some point, I leaned forward slightly. “What’s he like?” I asked casually.

Ignacio glanced at me through the mirror, amused. “Which version?”

“Both.”

He chuckled. “Demanding. Loyal. Terrible at resting. Worse at admitting he cares.”

Elianna hummed. “Sounds exhausting.”

Ignacio smiled wider. “Only if you don’t understand him.”

He stopped just right in front of the boutique, “I’ll be here till you’re done.”

“Thank you,” we both chorused at the same time, getting out of the car as we waved at Javier who was parked just behind the car, with a scowl on his face.

I guess he’s still not over Elianna’s little stunt, and she very well looked like she didn’t care.

The boutique looks like something out of a dream.

Glass walls glowing soft and white, like they’re hiding something sacred inside. The kind of place you feel underdressed just standing in front of it.

Elianna links her arm through mine before I can hesitate.

“You look like you’re about to fight the building,” she murmurs. “Relax. If it misbehaves, I’ll sue it.”

I snort despite myself as we’re ushered inside.

The moment we cross the threshold, something changes.

A woman approaches us, smile practiced but warm. Her eyes flick briefly to Elianna, then settle on me. She glances at the tablet in her hands.

“Welcome, Mrs. Vescari.” The name lands.

Around us, heads lift, conversations end, the air shifts like a room that has just been reminded who it belongs to.

Mrs. Vescari.

I feel it ripple outward. They think I belong here, at least they think I do.

Elianna does. She always has, she wears wealth the way some people wear confidence. Easy. Like it never once questioned her right to exist.

Me?

I’m standing in sandals that weren't bought by me, bruises hidden under fabric and lies, holding a champagne flute I didn’t ask for, pretending my hands aren’t trembling.

Compliments start coming. Gentle. Careful. Earned by a last name, not by me.

“You’re going to be a stunning bride.”

“We’ve prepared something very special for you.”

Every word presses the illusion deeper into place.

I smile. I nod. They think I belong here.

I aggressively do not.

I took one sip of champagne, then they showed me the dress.

I choked, like actually choked.

The woman panicked immediately. “Is— is something wrong?”

“Wrong?” I coughed. “No. No. It’s… it’s beautiful.”

Her shoulders relaxed instantly. “Alright then, let’s get you into the dress,” she said, smiling.

They help me step into it. Fabric slides over skin like a decision being made. The dress fit like it had been waiting for me.

Like it knew my body. My shape. My breath.

The moment I looked at myself in the mirror, something inside me cracked. Tears slid down before I could stop them. I pulled off my sunglasses instinctively.

“Are you alright, dear?” the woman asked gently, eyes dropping to my bruised eye.

I panicked. “Oh— yeah!” I said quickly, bending down. “I just— hit my eye earlier. On the table. Very aggressive table.”

She tsked sympathetically, like she personally failed me. “Oh no, I’m so sorry.”

She steps closer, checking my face. “I’m sure Mr. Vescari must have taken care of you.”

Elianna and I scoff at the exact same time.

It’s instinctive. Muscle memory.

Then we freeze.

Right. Public.

I clear my throat, straightening my shoulders, lifting my chin like this is all perfectly normal.

“Yes,” I say smoothly. “He did. He wouldn’t even leave my side. He loves me too much.”

The words feel strange in my mouth. Very heavy, very performative.

The woman smiles, clearly pleased. “That’s wonderful. I’ll go fetch the veil.”

The second she disappears, Elianna turns on me.

“He loves me too much,” she repeats in a mocking sing-song. “Did you have to go that far?”

I shrug, admiring my reflection, tilting slightly. “I mean, if he didn’t love me, would he have had this angelic dress made for me? Think about it.”

I wink.

She snorts. “Until he suffocates you with it.”

I laugh, as she joins in. The sound settled my nerves.

The woman returns with the veil, and we sober instantly, smiles rearranged into something softer.

The drive back was quiet.

The dress was packed carefully and placed into another security car I hadn’t even known was following us, aside from Javier.

Back in the suite, exhaustion hit me all at once.

Elianna and I climbed into bed together, limbs tangled, talking about stupid things, old memories, and what-ifs.

At some point, my voice dropped, the anxiety beginning to creep in. “I’m no longer going to be Cake Coogan anymore, by this time tomorrow, I’ll be Cake Vescari,” I said quietly.

Elianna squeezed my hand. “You’ll always be Cake Coogan, and it’s only for a year, remember? We’ll get through this really fast.”

I nodded, my eyes burning.

We fell asleep like that, holding onto each other, hoping for the best.

Tomorrow is coming, and there is no stopping it.