The Wedding Dress I Never Got to Wear

For ten years, Daniel Miller and I were nothing more than a secret. We went straight from friends with benefits to husband and wife, skipping the dating phase entirely. Then came the weddings. Every single time we tried to have a ceremony, his childhood best friend, Chloe Vance, would pull him away with ridiculous excuses. The first time we read our vows, she needed him to drive her to the dentist for a mouth ulcer. The second time we tried to exchange rings, she had a panic attack and threatened to jump off a roof. For our third attempt, I bribed the security guard. I begged him not to let anyone crash the venue. When I arrived, the guard blocked me at the front gates. I stood outside in the cold. I watched another woman walk down the aisle in the custom wedding dress I had cherished for a decade. In ten minutes, she stole the walk that took me ten years to reach. She looked pale and fragile. Daniel held her close, shielding her from the crowd. "Chloe was diagnosed with a terminal illness," he told me later, without a trace of guilt. "Her only wish before surgery is to marry me. “You and I are just in a secret relationship anyway. You’ve waited ten years. You can wait a little longer." Chloe looked at me with tears in her eyes. "He was mine first. Can you just give him back to me for one day before my operation?" Daniel snapped at me before I could speak. "I know you’re upset. But she’s sick. Just wait for the next wedding." I stood frozen. He forgot one detail. I was sick, too. Bone cancer was slowly destroying my body. My final wish was to wear the dress my mother designed for me before I died. ‘Daniel, there won't be a next time.’