30 Days (Lost Love Trilogy #1) - Belle Brooks Page 0,1
tall on an oval tray. Bethany, my consultant, handed us each a glass. She smiled, and I took a sip, the bubbles making me giddy. This was the place where my dress would be chosen.
The girls headed straight towards the neatly placed racks. My eyes were taken immediately by a mannequin. The gown adorning it spoke my name. It called for me. There was never a need to look; it was as if it was always going to be hanging there.
Butterflies danced in my stomach as my shaking hands draped a one-strap, lace, white wedding dress over my pale skin. My reflection made me gasp as Bethany fastened the last button. The first dress I tried on was more beautiful than I could have imagined.
“You look gorgeous. So tall and thin. I think this one might have been made for you.” Bethany’s golden eyes widened as her lips arched. “I wish I had your height.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling my cheeks pink.
She smiled.
I walked out of the fitting room and called, “Are you three ready for me?”
“Hurry up,” Ange cried in anticipation.
“Well?” I said, stepping in front of them.
Their mouths gaped open. Their tears began to fall.
“Stunning.” Sammy’s pale blue eyes filled with moisture. The dress was exactly that … stunning. It fit me like a glove.
I stood staring at my reflection in the mirror behind them. I couldn’t believe that girl was me. “Bethany, how much is this one?”
“Four thousand,” Bethany said in a way that made four thousand dollars seem like mere peanuts.
“Four thousand dollars. It’s too much money to spend on a piece of clothing for one day.” I frowned, turning to walk back towards the fitting rooms, discouraged.
“It’s worth every penny,” Sophie blurted out. The girls gathered around me.
“I know it’s the first dress you’ve tried, but it’s ‘the dress’ and worth the price tag,” Sammy encouraged.
I tugged at my lower lip with my teeth. “It’s too much.” I took a step towards the fitting rooms.
Sophie stopped me, turning me back towards the mirror. “Look at you, girl.”
I saw my reflection again.
“Buy the dress, Abi. You’ll regret it if you don’t. Sir Romeo said no price was too much when we talked about gowns last month.” Sammy rubbed her palm over my back. “Hand over your plastic,” she whispered.
I did.
The drive home was just as relaxing, only now the boot contained one expensive wedding dress. What expensive bridal store ever allowed someone to take home a piece from their floor stock? And what dress had no need for any tailoring? It made no sense.
I dropped the girls at Sammy’s house and continued home.
He was already there.
Surprise lifted my eyebrows halfway up my forehead. “Back so soon, honey?”
“Yes, it was a quick nine rounds and a few beers.” The newspaper covered his face, his leg crossed over the other. He looked comfortable in the leather couch with our tiny Pug, Bella, curled up beside him. The paper lowered. His eyes narrowed until I could barely see the brown. “You’re flushed, Abi.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. What have you been up to?” His tone was calm.
“You know … buying a wedding dress.” I bit at my nail, a nervous habit I couldn’t get rid of.
“Oh. I see.” He dropped the paper. He scrubbed at the back of his head.
The atmosphere turned tense. The change abrupt with no reasoning as to why. I didn’t see what was coming next.
Walking back out to the car, I removed the opaque bag. On my return, the three steps into our apartment felt like ten. The wooden floors of the hall echoed with each footstep my stilettos made. Finally, the carpet from the bedroom floor stopped the sound.
“Is it in there?” I could hear frustration in his tone as he hovered behind me. “You’re flushed again,” he murmured under his breath.
“Am I?” I saw my reflection in the mirror, in the corner of our room. I was.
He shook his head, ran his hands through his chestnut hair, and then exhaled with force.
“What’s wrong? Do you want to see it?” My heart began to pound at a frantic tempo.
“No,” he replied quickly. Too quickly. “I …” He huffed. “Why …?” He couldn’t find the words.
“I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have bought a dress yet.” Tears welled up, blurring my vision as his head dropped.
“I can’t do this.” His voice was weak and apologetic.
“Do what?”
“I can’t marry you, Abi.”
My heart stopped beating. My lungs forgot to claim air. The world stopped spinning.