I Don't Want a Wedding That Was Never Mine

It was the last weekend before the wedding.

I drove to the fanciest bridal boutique downtown.

The sales associate greeted me with a bright smile, then brought out a bulky gown covered in rhinestones.

Cheap stones glittered across layers of scratchy tulle.

"Ms. Lambert, Mr. Crowley asked that you try this one on today."

Damian's gentle voice drifted over from the lounge.

He walked over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"The one you picked was too plain. This one really sparkles. Go on, try it on."

The staff helped me into the 22-pound gown.

The tulle scratched my skin, and the zipper dug into my waist so tightly I could barely breathe.

But when I stepped out of the fitting room, holding up the heavy skirt, Damian was gone.

The sales associate avoided my eyes and pointed toward the VIP suite at the end of the hall.

I struggled toward it and found the door half open.

A woman stood before the full-length mirror, admiring herself in the hand-embroidered wedding dress I'd had custom-made.

It was my twin sister, Chloe.

The waist, tailored for me, had been taken in almost three inches to fit her slender frame.

Chloe covered her mouth and gave a couple of soft coughs, then leaned against Damian's shoulder, her eyes welling up.

"Damian, you gave me the dress. Do you think Zoe will be mad when she finds out?"

Damian, who couldn't be bothered to pick up a pen off the floor, was crouching at Chloe's feet, smoothing her skirt. He didn't hesitate. "Zoe's always been understanding. She'll get it. Besides, it's just a dress."

My heart ached at how casually he said it. I'd waited three months for that dress and gone back and forth with the designer until it was perfect. Damian had handed it to Chloe as if it meant nothing...

I pushed the door open and fixed them both with a cold stare.

Damian froze when he saw me. Then he came over, took my hand, and said, "Zoe, the doctor says Chloe's condition is serious. She doesn't have much time left.

"She's never even been in a relationship, let alone worn a wedding dress or been a bride.

"I just feel bad for her. I wanted her to get to wear a wedding dress at least once.

"Just let her borrow it this once, okay?"

I listened to his excuses in disbelief. "So you went behind my back and gave her my dress?"

"Zoe, it's just a dress. You've always been the kind one. Don't hold it against your sister.

"You can wear another one. Why fight Chloe over this?"

I almost laughed. It was my dress, yet somehow he made it sound as if I were the one taking it from her.

Chloe stood off to the side. Right on cue, tears filled her eyes. "Zoe, please don't be mad. I'll take the dress off right now and give it back. Please don't fight because of me."

She made a show of trying to take off the dress, but after barely two steps, her eyes rolled back and she collapsed. Damian caught her and held her tight.

Holding Chloe, he frowned at me. "Enough. Look what you've done to your sister. I'm taking her to the hospital. Think about what you've done!"

Damian carried Chloe out without looking back at me.

I stood frozen and looked down at the heavy, gaudy gown I still had on.

The pain in my chest was so sharp I could barely breathe.

Damian and I had met at a freshman welcome party in college.

Back then, he was a proud, arrogant rich kid everyone wanted to be around. But he fell for me at first sight.

He spent most of that semester pursuing me, swallowing his pride at every turn.

He'd cross half the city before dawn just to buy me my favorite coffee.

When I got sick, he'd wait all night outside my dorm.

On every anniversary, he gave me my favorite pink roses and made sure everyone knew how he felt.

"Zoe, I'm never marrying anyone but you. You're the only woman I'll ever call my wife."

I used to think his love would never change.

Then, three years ago, I had an accident and nearly drowned. When I woke up in the hospital, Chloe was the only one at my bedside.

Everyone said she'd saved me and ruined her health in the process.

From that day on, Damian used the debt I supposedly owed Chloe to make me give in to her again and again.

After six years together, our relationship had become a joke.

The staff gave me looks that mixed sympathy with mockery. Tears stung my eyes.

I held them back, took off the dress, and walked out of the boutique in a daze.

Our new home was silent when I got back. Damian still wasn't there.

The suit he'd taken off the night before lay on the couch. As I picked it up to hang it, two plane tickets slipped out of a pocket onto the rug.

Both were first class to Paris, one for Damian and the other for Chloe.

The travel dates matched our honeymoon exactly.