Chapter 2

The next morning, I arrived at the bridal boutique alone.

When the sales associate took the wedding gown out of its garment bag, her eyes lit up. "Ms. Lawson, this dress really suits you. Is Mr. Sinclair coming today?"

I hesitated before answering, "He'll be here."

That was the last time I spoke with complete confidence on Hunter's behalf.

But at 10:00 am, he still hadn't arrived.

Then, at 10:30 am, his assistant sent me a message. "Ms. Lawson, Mr. Sinclair has something urgent to deal with. He probably won't be able to make it today."

I called Hunter. After several rings, he finally answered. But in the background, I could hear Tiffany's suppressed sobs.

"Natalie, I'm at the hospital," Hunter said.

I gripped my phone. "What happened to you?"

"It's not me," he replied. "It's Tiff. She had an allergic reaction to the necklace she wore last night. Her neck's swollen."

I lowered my head and looked at the wedding gown I was wearing. The corset was pulled so tight that it was hard to breathe.

"Today's our wedding dress fitting."

The other end of the line fell silent for a moment.

Hunter sighed softly and said, "Natalie, don't compare yourself to her. The person I'm marrying tomorrow is you. The person standing beside me at the altar will also be you. Tiff's sick. I'm staying with her for a while. Don't you have any confidence in our relationship?"

Instantly, I felt a lump form in my throat.

Just then, a sales associate walked over carrying a box. "Ms. Lawson, Mr. Sinclair just had someone deliver this."

Inside the box was a pair of ivory satin wedding shoes. The heels weren't high, and there were blister pads attached to the backs.

A card lay beside them. It read, "Your heels blister easily. Don't wear heels that are too high."

I held the card tightly, and a sharp ache welled up in my chest.

So he still remembered. When I was 18, my heels had been rubbed raw and bloody the first time I wore high heels.

His voice softened over the phone. "You got the shoes?"

"Yeah," I murmured.

It sounded like he was coaxing me as he said, "Be good. I'll come back and have dinner with you tonight."

Before I could respond, Tiffany called out from the other end. "Hunter, is my neck going to scar?"

Hunter immediately replied, "It won't. Let me take a look."

The call ended.

I lowered my head and looked at the shoes. They fit perfectly, but the person who had sent them wasn't there.

At three that afternoon, Gabriel arrived. I had already finished trying on all the dresses by then.

He pushed the door open, and when he saw me, his gaze paused for a moment. "You look beautiful," he complimented.

He walked closer and lowered his eyes to my feet. At the sight of them, he frowned immediately.

"You've rubbed them raw again?" he asked, crouching down to take a box of bandages out of his pocket. "Don't move."

Gabriel applied them gently and skillfully. It was just like old times. When he finished, he looked up at me and asked, "Does it hurt?"

I didn't answer.

Gabriel stood and steadied me with a hand. "Come on. Get in the car first. It's cold outside."

It was still raining. He tilted the umbrella toward me, and before long, half of his own shoulder was soaked.

I followed him to the car. Just as I was about to get in, I noticed a white stuffed lamb sitting in the front passenger seat.

I stopped.

Gabriel froze for a moment, but quickly pressed a hand against the car door. His tone was so natural that it was as if he were talking about something trivial. "You can sit in the back."

I looked at the stuffed lamb. "Can't it sit in the back?"

His movements stalled. "Don't make a fuss. Tiff's been waiting all afternoon for this."

"So I sit in the back, and it gets the front seat?"

Gabriel sighed. "Natalie, you're different. You're stronger than she is."

My eyes suddenly burned as tears welled up. I raised my hand to brush his hand away. "Gabriel, I don't want to be strong today."

The gentleness on his face faded. "Don't make this difficult for me."

I smiled. "Every single time, you tell me to be understanding. Why do you never ask that of her?"

Gabriel was silent for two seconds. Then, he said, "Because she really will cry."

I nodded. "But I won't."

I hugged the garment bag containing my wedding dress and turned to walk into the rain. The rain poured down. After only a few steps, the backs of my heels were already rubbing painfully against my shoes.

I didn't look back. Neither did Gabriel come after me.

It didn't really matter anymore.

20 minutes later, Tiffany posted on her social media. In the photo, the stuffed lamb sat spotless beside her hospital bed.

The caption read, "Someone brought it to me through the rain and said he wouldn't stop worrying until I stopped hurting."

I stood by the roadside, carrying my wedding accessories in my hand, while the pain in my heels had gone completely numb.

The sales associate ran after me and handed me a paper bag. "Ms. Lawson, you forgot your veil."

I took it.

At that moment, I suddenly didn't want to get married anymore.