Chapter 3

The next morning, I went to the bridal boutique alone.

When the stylist pulled the main wedding gown out of the dust bag, her eyes lit up.

"Miss Alice, this is absolutely perfect for you. Is Mr. Brooks joining us today?"

I hesitated. "He’ll be here."

That was the very last time I would ever make excuses for him.

But ten o’clock came, and he wasn't there.

At ten-thirty, his assistant sent a text:

[Miss Alice, Mr. Brooks has an urgent matter to attend to. He might not make it today.]

I dialed Brooks' number. He actually picked up.

But over the line, I could hear Michelle's muffled whimpers in the background.

"Alice, I’m at the hospital," Brooks said.

I gripped my phone tightly. "What happened to you?"

"Not me. It’s Michelle. She had an allergic reaction to that necklace last night. Her neck is severely swollen."

I looked down at the wedding gown I was wearing.

The corset was laced so tightly it made it hard to breathe.

"Today is our wedding fitting."

The line went silent for a moment. Then, Brooks let out a heavy sigh.

"Alice, don’t compare yourself to her."

"You’re the one registering the marriage with me tomorrow. You’re the one who will stand beside me at the altar."

"Michelle is sick, and I’m just staying with her for a bit. Do you really have so little security in our relationship?"

A lump formed in my throat, choking me.

Just then, a stylist walked over, holding a box.

"Miss Alice, Mr. Brooks just had this delivered."

Inside was a pair of off-white satin wedding heels.

The heels weren't too high, and there were blister pads pre-applied to the back of the shoes.

A card lay next to them: [Your heels blister easily. Don't wear them too high.]

Staring at the card, a sharp ache bloomed in my chest.

So he did remember.

When I was eighteen, the first time I wore high heels, my heels ended up bloody and raw.

On the phone, his voice softened. "Did you get the shoes?"

"Yeah," I whispered.

"Be good," he said, coaxing me. "I'll come home and have dinner with you tonight."

Before I could reply, Michelle’s voice drifted through the receiver.

"Brooks, is my neck going to scar?"

Brooks immediately turned away from the phone. "No, let me see."

The call clicked dead.

I looked down at the shoes.

The shoes fit perfectly. But the man who sent them never showed up.

At 3:00 PM, Bryant arrived.

By then, I had already finished trying on all the dresses.

Bryant pushed the door open, and when he saw me, his eyes widened slightly. "You look beautiful."

He walked closer and looked down at my feet.

His brow furrowed instantly. "Did you get blisters again?"

He knelt down, pulling a tin of Band-Aids from his pocket. "Don't move."

He applied the bandage with extreme gentleness, a routine he had mastered years ago.

Once done, he looked up at me. "Does it hurt?"

I didn't answer.

Bryant stood up and helped me up. "Let's get in the car. It's freezing outside."

It was pouring.

He tilted the umbrella completely over my side, leaving his own shoulder soaked within seconds.

I followed him to the car. Just as I was about to slide in, I noticed a white plush lamb sitting on the passenger seat.

I froze.

Bryant hesitated for a split second, then quickly held the door open, speaking in a casual, dismissing tone. "Just sit in the back."

I stared at the toy. "It can't sit in the back?"

Bryant went stiff.

"Don't start, Alice. Michelle has been waiting for this toy all afternoon."

"So, I sit in the back, and the toy gets the front seat?"

He sighed deeply.

"Alice, you're different."

"You're stronger than her."

Tears stung the back of my eyes.

But I reached out and pushed his hand off the car door.

"Bryant, I don't want to be strong today."

The warmth on his face vanished. "Don't make this hard for me."

I smiled weakly. "You always tell me to be understanding. Why do you never tell her to be understanding?"

Bryant was silent for two seconds. Then, he said:

"Because she actually cries."

I nodded slowly. "And I don't."

I hugged my wedding gown bag tightly, turned around, and walked into the rain.

The downpour was heavy. Within steps, the back of my heels began to throb with pain.

I didn't look back, and Bryant didn't chase after me.

Honestly, it didn't matter anymore.

Twenty minutes later, Michelle posted on her Instagram.

In the photo, the white plush lamb was sitting clean and cozy next to her hospital bed.

Her caption read: [Someone ran through the storm just to bring me this. He said he won't rest until my pain is gone.]

I stood by the side of the road, holding my heavy dress garment bag, my feet completely numb from the cold and pain.

The boutique assistant ran out, handing me a small paper bag.

"Miss Alice! You forgot your veil!"

I took it. At that exact moment, I decided I didn't want to register the marriage anymore.