Chapter 3

I didn't ask Edward who Molly Stone, the woman from the phone call, was.

He offered no explanation either.

…

The next day, Elaine Cray, Edward's mother, arranged for me to try on wedding dresses.

By the time I arrived at the bridal boutique, Victoria was already seated on the sofa with a white tulle shawl draped over her shoulders.

Elaine smiled and waved me over. "Camie, you're here. Come take a look. Vicky has such good taste. She's picked out a few options for you."

I glanced at the row of dresses on the rack. Every one of them had a high waist, a short train, and narrow shoulders.

"These don't really suit me," I said.

Elaine's smile faltered slightly. "When a girl gets married, it never hurts to listen to her elders and those with more experience. Vicky has attended plenty of weddings. She knows more about these things than you do."

Victoria rose from the sofa and pulled another dress off the rack. "This one's pretty. Eddie should like it."

"I'm the one getting married," I replied. "Why should his preferences matter more than mine?"

Elaine paused with her champagne glass halfway to her lips. "Camie, marriage isn't about keeping score. Eddie has a lot on his plate. You should learn to accommodate him a little more."

Victoria chimed in softly, "Eddie really does prefer clean, simple designs. If you wear something too bold, he might not like it."

The shop assistant carried a dress into the fitting room, but I remained where I stood.

Elaine finally frowned. "What's gotten into you lately? You've become so stubborn. First it was a painting, then some little ornament, and now a wedding dress. You always seem to find something to complain about."

I met her gaze. "Did you know the painting had been replaced?"

Elaine hesitated. "Vicky mentioned it. That painting was rather old. It didn't really suit the new place."

I nodded. "My mother painted it."

For a moment, silence settled over the room.

Victoria's eyes immediately reddened. "Camie, I honestly had no idea. If I'd known, I never would have suggested replacing it."

Elaine softened her tone. "I'll admit, that was a misunderstanding. But Eddie only wanted the place to look nicer. There's no point in holding a grudge over it."

All at once, the entire conversation felt pointless. They both knew I'd been wronged. Yet they seemed far more concerned that Victoria might feel wronged instead.

When Edward pushed open the door, Elaine looked at him as though he'd come to her rescue. "Eddie, you're just in time. Camie insists that none of these dresses will do."

Edward glanced at the rack. "Vicky picked these out?"

Victoria nodded. "I only made a few suggestions."

"Then pick one of these." Edward approached me and brushed the hair off my shoulder. "Camie, don't keep everyone waiting."

I looked up at him. "And what if I don't want to wear any of them?"

His hand stilled, though his voice remained low. "The wedding isn't just about you."

I let out a bitter laugh. "I don't get a say in our new home, and now I don't even get to choose my own wedding dress. So whose wedding is this, exactly?"

Edward fixed me with a warning look. "There are other people here. Don't say things you'll regret just because you're upset."

Victoria quickly tried to smooth things over. "Camie, don't misunderstand. Eddie just wants everything to go smoothly."

Without another word, I turned and walked into the fitting room.

As the shop assistant zipped up my dress, my phone buzzed with a message from the designer.

[Miss Wright, I found out what happened to the camellia painting you asked about. Mr. Foxworth said there was no need to keep the original. Miss Sonnier didn't like the old frame, so he had someone move it into storage.]

A photograph accompanied the message.

My mother's camellia painting stood propped against the wall in the corner of a storage room. The canvas was creased, and dust had gathered along its edges.

I stared at the photograph as a chill slowly spread through my chest.

"Miss Wright, is the zipper too tight?" the shop assistant asked.

"A little," I murmured.

When I stepped out of the fitting room, Edward looked up. He seemed satisfied, and his tone softened slightly. "This one works."

Victoria went still, her fingers tightening around the shawl.

Elaine smiled. "If Vicky had gotten to have her own wedding back then, I imagine she would have looked just like this."

Edward's expression changed. "Mom."

Elaine seemed to realize she'd said too much. She hastily lifted her teacup to conceal her discomfort. "It was just an offhand remark."

I turned toward the mirror.

There I stood beside Edward, dressed in the gown Victoria had chosen. We looked like an old photograph in which someone had replaced the original bride's face with mine at the last moment.

Just then, I noticed a folder protruding from the gap in the fitting room door.

I bent down to pick it up.

Printed across the cover were the words: [Wedding Run of Show]