A wedding dress for the wrong bride Novels & Stories

"Madam Florence, Mr. Morrison, I'll go upstairs with Wanda." "Go ahead," Florence replied with a big smile. Mila led Sienna into a room and pulled a wedding dress and an evening gown from the walk-in closet. The stunning wedding dress caught Sienna's eye, leaving her in awe. "It's so beautiful," Sienna exclaimed. It was so exquisite and dazzling that she didn't dare touch it, afraid she might damage something she couldn't afford to replace. Mila beamed with happiness, her face full of joy. "Nate had it custom-made for me."

Boards restructured and Futures priced in. There was no option to cancel. Only damage control and I was damage control! I didn’t argue. I didn’t cry either, I just nodded and accepted the cruel joke life has decided to play on me. Mama tells me I need to be the bride, which means wearing the wedding dress but there was no way I would wear the gown she had used to taunt me. So I walked down the aisle in my bridesmaid dress instead, every step feeling unreal, like I was watching someone else’s nightmare unfold from a distance.

How am I going to survive this? THAT night, auntie Helen decided to dress me up. I was left alone in the guest room. I stood in front of the full-length mirror, still dressed in one of Kyla’s designer gowns. I couldn’t recognize the girl staring back at me. The makeup, the heels, the elegance—it wasn’t me. But it had to be. My phone buzzed. A message from auntie Helen. “We’ll pick you up tomorrow at 9 AM sharp for your engagement prep. Be ready.”

Rather than a birthday banquet, it felt more like they were hosting another wedding reception. From the moment Martha entered the venue arm in arm with Bosco, they became the center of attention. Mom sat beside them, watching them with a face full of affection. I spotted my closest colleague, Faith Bowen, in the crowd. Out of habit, I raised my hand to wave at her—only to see her walk straight past me and embrace Martha instead. "Babe!" she called warmly. She used to call me that.

Dante stumbled backward, his gaze hollow as he stared at the hotel entrance in utter disbelief. The wedding had been canceled. "Ms. Ford canceled the wedding herself," the hotel employee added quietly. Maria's expression turned icy at once. She questioned Dante, "What's going on? Today's the wedding day, but where is she? Didn't you say that everything had already been arranged?" Dante's throat was all clammed up. It took him a while to squeeze out the words, "I don't know…"

I don’t think my pride can survive anymore damage. Lifting my hand reluctantly, I brush my fingertips over the closest wedding dress. The silky fabric is cold to the touch and almost slippery. I think that if I put it on, it’ll just slide straight off, like it’s rejecting me. I shouldn’t be getting married. Even if it’s fake. This is wrong. This is all wrong.

Then she stopped. The cold hit her properly now that the adrenaline was thinning. The gallery had been warm, the specific warmth of a room full of people and good lighting. The Tripicity night was doing what Tripicity nights did in this season, which was be approximately fifteen degrees colder than the inside of anywhere and make no apologies about it. The dress was not a winter dress. It was a gallery dress. She was wearing it in a service lane at ten-thirty at night, her breath making small visible clouds in the cold air, the documents still very present in her memory in a way that was cutting through the champagne faster than she would have liked.

Astrid caught Irene’s gaze and followed it to Stefan, her fists clenching under the table. “Then it’s settled,” the patriarch said, raising his glass. ***** On the wedding day, Irene sat quietly as makeup artists and stylists surrounded her. The white wedding gown shimmered like moonlight. Her hair was pinned up elegantly, and sparkling accessories adorned her ears and wrist. The makeup artist adjusted her veil. “Your mother must be so proud of you.” Those words broke something inside her. She thought back to the conversation with her mom when she was little. Her mother had described the perfect wedding—how her daughter would wear white, walk down the aisle with her head held high, and marry

"She brought a kid to pester her ex-boyfriend?” “Look at what she’s wearing. How did she even get in…” Every word stabbed into my heart like a knife. “That’s nonsense!” I pointed at Shawn, trembling with anger. “You were the one who let Jessica wear the wedding dress and made me wear a bridesmaid’s dress!” A gasp rippled through the crowd. Jessica’s expression changed instantly, and then she put on a pitiful expression. “Ms. Larrinson, how can you twist the truth like that? You were the one who thought the wedding gifts Shawn gave you weren't enough…”

Adefunke called her mom, and she explained the new development, but her parents refused, they bent on traveling out of the country to get the customized wears and wrists watch and some other valuable things that was needed for the wedding, but Damilola refused until Adefunke's father dialogue with him, and he promised to give them two escort to accompany them, Damilola agreed to travel out for wedding shopping based on the escorts that Adefunke's father provide, and Damilola's father provide another two escorts, Three days later, they set out for the journey, and their escorts was beside them, when Adefunke wanted to misbehaved In the Italy, she was cautioned, and they continue with their we