For whatever reason, Dessie is still a sore subject with me, and I don’t know why. In the end, I have my guy and we’re getting married, but part of me still harbors some resentment toward her. In the beginning of their relationship, she had no idea how I felt about him and neither did he. By the end, she knew I was the demise and did the unthinkable. I don’t know if Noah will ever get over the betrayal. I know I won’t. Yet, I can’t shake the feeling that she’s lingering in the shadows, waiting to pounce again. It’s stupid, Elle tells me this all the time. I know that Noah loves me.
The manager of the dress shop hurries toward us, shutting and locking the door. “Phew,” she says, leaning up against it. “This is the second day in a row I’ve had to lock the door because of the photographers. You celebs sure know how to keep things interesting.”
“We’re not famous,” I tell her.
“You must be to them. I’m Claudia, the owner.” She comes forward and shakes our hands.
“I’m Peyton, this is my sister Elle and our mother, Katelyn.”
“It’s nice to meet you. Who’s the bride?”
Elle points at me. “She is.”
Claudia smiles and takes my arm to lead me toward her dresses. “I’m sure you’re aware we specialize in the vintage look. Everything is handmade, and we do all the alterations on site. When’s your wedding?”
“Christmas.”
“Day?”
I nod.
“Doable. Do you know what you’re looking for?”
“I do.” Unlike the other stores, Claudia and I go through the dresses while Mom and Elle stay in the background. I tell Claudia how I imagine my dress, what my theme is, and the colors Noah and I have chosen. I think she was shocked to find out that we’re not going with red, like most winter weddings. Within a few minutes, she has me set up in the dressing area with a handful of dresses.
As soon as I step out onto the pedestal, I look at myself in the mirror while she zips me up. She’s prattling on about the fabric, but I’m lost in a sea of visions. Me standing next to Noah, holding his hand. The two of us, side-by-side, posing for pictures. Me with my arms around him while we dance at our reception.
“What do you think?” Claudia asks, standing next to me.
“This is the one.” This is the one. This dress is everything I was looking for but didn’t know I wanted until I saw what I looked like in the mirror. I move my hips back and forth to watch the tiered skirt twist. It reminds me of Cinderella, just without the lace. The satin fabric is exactly what I wanted, and the small bow in front is just enough to give the simple, yet classic ballgown enough character. I’m in love with the capped sleeves. I didn’t know I wanted those until now. I run my hands down the front, loving that Noah can hold me without worrying whether his suit is going to get caught on my dress. The train length is perfect. It’ll cover the church stairs but won’t be bothersome during the reception. Turning slightly, the tiers cascade elegantly, making me fall more in love.
“Let’s go show your mom and sister.”
Claudia holds back the large curtain separating the dressing room from the store. I step through, both Mom and Elle gasp. I’m watching Mom though because every dress earlier has made her cry and I fully expect the same reaction. This time, she covers her mouth and shakes her head before she starts fanning herself.
“I can’t, Peyton.”
“Can’t what?” I ask her.
“Find the words. You were right. Everything from before… they pale in comparison. You look stunning.”
The smile on my face is going to last me until well after my wedding day. I glance at Elle. She’s crying. “You’re so beautiful,” she says as she comes to me. “I think you should curl your hair but leave it down. Maybe pull a few strands back, like this.” I can’t see what she’s doing, but Mom and Claudia are nodding.
“We’ll take the dress,” Mom says.
“Do you want to know the price?”
Mom shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter, I’d pay millions to see her light up like this every day.”
As fast as I can, I move to my mom to give her a hug. “Thank you, Mom.”
“Thank you for staying,” she whispers into my ear. The magnitude of her words sends my heart and the rest of my body into some sort of frenzied motion. I’m shaking, on the verge of tears as she cups my face and tells me that she loves me. I’m also speechless, unsure how to respond. Do I tell her she’s welcome? Of course not, that’s not the right answer. Maybe, in this situation, there isn’t one.
After Mom has paid and called us a car, we sit in one of her favorite Italian restaurants off Wilshire. It’s a cell phone free zone, which means I can slurp my pasta, and no one will post it on Instagram or Facebook later.
Mom’s words from earlier have stayed with me. They’re on replay in my mind, her voice soft in my ear. I’m waiting to tell Noah when I see him later. It’s our last free week before the season starts.
I’m mid-bite when I put my fork down. “Earlier, someone asked about Quinn’s girlfriend. What did he mean?” I look from Elle to our mom, who shrugs.