Price Of Perfection

Trevor’s POV

“You did what?!”

The words tore out of my throat, cracking in the quiet boutique. A few of the attendants paused their bustling in the dressing room, their eyes darting toward us before they quickly looked away. My hands, which had been fumbling with the endless row of silk-covered buttons on Allysia’s back, slipped completely. I nearly snagged the delicate lace of the tenth wedding dress she’d rejected this morning.

Since 9:00 AM, she had been trying on several expensive wedding dresses and I’d been her personal dressing room assistant. I had watched a parade of white silk, ivory tulle, and "eggshell" chiffon all of which looked identical and perfect to me. But with each one, Allysia would find a flaw. Either it was "too ugly" or a bodice didn't "scream royalty," and back to the racks they went.

Seriously, I didn't mind. If her trying on all the wedding dresses in the world makes her happy, it’s fine by me. Although being with Allysia was sometimes like being tethered to a whirlwind, it was nothing if it meant finally standing in the center of the world I had always craved.

"Careful, babe! This is an expensive diamond-encrusted custom dress," Allysia chirped, oblivious to the way my heart was currently trying to hammer its way out of my ribs. She stepped out of the heavy froth of the cathedral train, admiring her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors. "And don't look so horrified. It’s just a wedding invitation. It’s polite to invite old... friends."

"Friends?" I whispered, my voice finally finding its footing.

I looked at her reflection. Allysia was the definition of perfection, blonde waves styled into a glossy mane, makeup so flawless it looked airbrushed. She was haute couture in human form. She was the girl every man broke his neck to catch a glimpse of. She was everything I’ve always wanted.

But as I stared at her, the mirror seemed to shift. Instead of Allysia’s polished radiance, the image of Emma from the engagement party flashed behind my eyes. I saw her standing frozen in the middle of the room, her oversized sweater hanging off her thin frame like a shroud and those awful thick glasses sliding down her nose.

"Babe, she looked like she was about to have a mental breakdown last night," I said, my jaw tightening as I tried to maintain a mask of cool indifference. "Why would you want her at the wedding?"

Allysia didn't answer immediately. She was too busy using a manicured nail to flick an imaginary speck of dust from her diamond earring. Her face was a mask of calm, as if she hadn't just dropped a bombshell. Finally, she met my gaze in the glass, rolled her eyes, and turned around to hook her arm through mine.

“Come on, honey. There’s no harm in inviting her to see us get married, just…picture it as a peace offering”.

I stayed silent. The muscles in my jaw pulsed, and I shoved my hands deep into my pockets to hide the fact that my fingers were shaking.

Emma and I had been a "forever" thing. We met in high school. She had always looked at me like I was the sun, the moon, and every star in between, like I was her universe. But then Allysia happened. Allysia didn't bury her head in books; she had a life, she’s from a multibillionaire family, and she had a style that made Emma look like a background character in my own story. I fell in love with the light Allysia cast, and I couldn't blame myself for reaching for it, but I didn't want Emma to hate me. I didn’t want to hurt her.

Allysia noticed the change in my expression. She pouted, her lower lip jutting out in a way that usually made me do whatever she wanted. “Aw, honey... are you mad at me?”

She stepped closer, the scent of her expensive perfume filling my head. I felt my resolve melting instantly. She always knew exactly how to disarm me.

I reached out, pulling her by the waist until our bodies pressed together. “I’m not mad, babe. And I’m not saying there’s harm in it... but it’s wrong. She’s my ex. And more than that she saw you as a best friend. We already did something awful to her and now you’re trying to rub a whole bag of salt into the wound.”

Allysia’s face hardened instantly. She detangled herself from my grip, stepping back as if my touch suddenly burned. “Seriously? You’re putting her feelings over mine now?”

I dragged a hand over my face, the frustration bubbling over. “Babe, don’t do that. Don't make this about who I'm choosing.”

She didn't listen. She stormed off toward the chocolate colored sofa a few feet away, her pink silk dress fluttering behind her like a battle flag.

“Ugh, come one babe, okay! I’m sorry,” I called out and sat beside her, closing the distance between us. I held her by the waist and gently turned her to face me, my voice dropping to a low, pleading hum.“I’m just stressed. I want everything to be perfect for our big day and I just don’t want us to do anything we would regret.

She looked up and held my face in her hands. “We won’t regret a thing, honey. I just invited her out of the goodness of my heart.”

For a split second, her expression shifted. A slow, toxic smirk curled her lips, a look that held a sharpness I didn't quite trust. Whenever Allysia smiled like that, she didn't have goodness in her heart. She’s definitely planning something.

Allysia’s face suddenly lit up as she looked past me. I turned around to see what she was looking at. Two stressed looking attendants were pushing a mannequin through the double doors into the room. It was wearing a new wedding dress, heavy with lace and shining under the bright lights.

“Babe, look at that! Oh my god, it looks so perfect,” she squealed.

She stood up quickly and ran toward the dress, leaving me sitting alone on the sofa. I rubbed a hand over my forehead, feeling a headache coming on. I already knew how this would end. It was the same cycle we had been in all morning. She would love a dress on the mannequin, but as soon as she put it on, she’d find a fault or decided it looked ugly.

“Babe, come over here!” she shouted.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” I answered.

I stood up and walked over to her, my hands in my pocket. The attendants were already working fast, helping her slide into the new wedding dress. They hadn't even gotten the dress halfway on her body before Allysia’s mood completely changed.

“This dress is awful!” she yelled. Her voice was so loud it made the attendants jump. “Whoever designed this should be blacklisted from the fashion industry. It’s disgusting. Take it off me right now!”