Devoured - Cathryn Fox Page 0,58

money.

The sisters all take a seat on the sofa and pull me down with them. The clerk, Lucille, a gorgeous middle-aged woman with long dark hair and big brown eyes, asks me to describe my favorite dress, and I basically sit there with my mouth hanging open. How on earth would I know? I wasn’t like other little girls, dreaming of their Prince Charming. No, I was sticking close to the walls trying to be invisible. There was no time for fairy tales in that cruel world I grew up in.

“I...don’t know.”

She takes my hands and pulls me to my feet. “Let’s have a look at your body shape.” I stand there like a mannequin on display as she spins me around and everyone excitedly gives their opinion on what would look best on me.

“I don’t need anything fancy,” I say. “Just simple.”

The clerk taps her chin, her brown eyes narrowing as she goes quiet, thoughtful. “I think I have the perfect dress,” she announces, and the women all clap their hands, excitement on their faces, and I can’t quite help but get swept up in it.

“Okay,” I say, and let her lead me to a change room. I step inside and strip to my underwear and she comes in with a gorgeous white gown.

“I think this ball gown will be perfect for you.”

My heart races a little faster in my chest as she removes it from the hanger and helps me into it. The second I see the dress on me, the silhouette perfect for my shape, I swallow hard and fight the barrage of emotions pushing tears into my eyes.

“I knew it,” Lucille says, and clips it in a few places. “We have to do a few alterations, and we’ll put you at the top of the list of course.”

My throat squeezes tight, my legs a little wobbly. “That’s so kind.”

“Anything for the Bianchis.” She stands back. “What do you think?”

“I love it,” I whisper, my heart aching in my tight chest. “But I can’t go with the first dress, can I? I mean, I’ve watched the shows and it takes girls forever to pick their dress, right?”

A wide smile splits her lips. “When it’s the right one you know.”

My pulse leaps. She’s right. When it’s the right one, you know. A surge of love wells up inside me. At the wedding last summer when Roman kissed me, it sealed the deal. For years I thought he was the right guy, but that kiss was electric, setting off a storm inside me that would forever ruin me for other men. Maybe deep down, he feels it, too, but is too afraid. A little bubble of hope wells up inside me. Is it possible that he wants this, too, and is using Richard as an excuse? I spin around and there is nothing I can do to wipe the ridiculous smile from my face. I’ve always tamped down hope, too afraid of disappointment—too used to disappointment—but this just all feels so right.

“Should we go show the others?” she asks.

I nod, my hair bouncing around my shoulders as we step out and she puts me on an elevated pedestal. I glance in the mirror, and I really do feel like Cinderella. Is it possible that fairy tales really do come true?

“Okay, turn around, dear,” Lucille says.

I spin and everyone smiles with lots of oohs and ahhs. The way they’re all looking at me makes me feel like I’m someone very special, even though I spent my whole life telling myself I wasn’t.

“It’s perfect,” Mamma says. “She’ll take it.”

I laugh at that and Lucille looks at me. “Do you say yes to the dress?”

I take in all the expectant eyes and put my hands to my chest. “I say yes to the dress.”

* * *

I glance around my empty classroom. Honestly, I can’t believe the week I’ve had, or that it’s Friday afternoon already—my wedding is less than twenty-four hours away. For the last week, when I went off to teach, Roman’s family would forge forward to put the perfect wedding together for me.

I push to my feet, ready to head home to my new...family. I smile and resist the urge to pinch myself. Honest to God, I’m just afraid to let myself get too excited.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there,” I say, finding Richard in my doorway.

He puts his hands in his pockets. “The big day is tomorrow, huh?”

“Yes, we’re renewing our vows for his family,” I say, disliking the

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