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“Huh?” I say.
“You’re crying.”
“Oh,” I laugh. For some reason, he’s right. I wipe at my eye and shake my head. “I’m fine. I’m not crying because of the guy, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“If you need to talk…” he says the words softly, and there’s enough empathy in them to practically break my heart.
Where did this guy come from?
He stops the zipper a few inches above the small of my back. A gentleman, again.
I give a quick smile and pull the door of the dressing room closed. “I just keep looking back and trying to pinpoint the moment it went wrong, I guess.”
“Would it fix anything if you knew?” he asks. For some reason, he’s asking like there’s more than just idle curiosity behind his words.
“I mean, it’s not like I never cared about Landon. Things were really good for a while. And it was like the magic died piece by piece. It all happened so slow it never seemed obvious in the moment, you know?”
“Sure,” he says.
“I guess I’m crying because I feel bad for letting it get so far along. Like I had my wedding dress on and I think it hit me all at once. I didn’t love him anymore. Maybe I did at some point. And it all just made me wonder how the hell you’re supposed to get it right. Before him, it was all apocalyptic, obvious reasons to break up. With Landon, it was something new but just as deadly. Slow, creeping death. Apocolyptic death.” I laugh and there’s no humor in the sound. “Makes you wonder if it’s even possible to still love someone by the time you make it to the altar.”
There’s no sound from the other side of the door, so I suddenly feel like an idiot.
“Sorry. Verbal diarrhea. I guess I just feel all kinds of weird after running away from my own wedding. Go figure. Like God. His parents paid for the wedding and I just bailed on it. I know they’re mega multi-millionaires or whatever, but I’m going to have to figure out some way to pay them back. And all the people who made plans to come be there?”
“It’ll be fine, Andi,” Jesse says. “I don’t think anyone would have wanted you to go through with the wedding just because they bought plane tickets. People who care about you will want you to be happy.”
I sigh. “Right. Right. You’re definitely right. Thanks,” I say. I decide I can dwell on how big a mess I made at some other point. I force some cheer and lightness into my voice. “I got the zipper. We’re good! Definitely out of the dress now.”
“Good. Not that you’re naked, just that the–” Jesse makes a noise of disgust with himself. “I’m going to shut up now.”
I grin as I slip on the new underwear, which I never thought I’d appreciate so much, and then try the dress on. I twirl, checking myself out, and then give my hair a little bit of fingertip treatment. It doesn’t help much, but licking my thumb and wiping off my smeared makeup at least makes me look a touch less tragic.
Because I’m not tragic. I’m a bright, vibrant, young woman who is turning over a new leaf. I’m somebody who is taking the first steps of her new adventure and ready to see where life takes her. If that’s tragedy, then sign me up.
I open the door and spread my arms wide. “Well? How is it?”
Jesse’s eyes fall from mine to my body, drifting slowly down and then back up again. He licks his lips, nodding. “Yeah,” he says.
“Yeah?” I ask. “Like, ‘yeah, you should burn that dress and file a restraining order against it’ or ‘yeah, that dress looks amazing and you’re beautiful.’”
“The second one.”
“You think I’m beautiful?” I ask.
“That’s not what I meant, I just–”
“You don’t think I’m beautiful?” I’m trying not to smile. I just can’t help pushing his buttons. He’s so tightly wound. It feels like somebody needs to take him by those big, muscly shoulders and shake him.
Jesse opens his mouth and then settles for hanging his head. “Are you getting the dress, Andi?”
“Yes. Actually, you are, if you’re still willing to lend me the money.”
“Come on.”
“One sec.” I duck back in the fitting room and scoop up my huge wedding dress, tucking it under one arm. I can’t say I feel a particular emotional attachment to the thing, but it might be weird to leave it lying on the floor of a dressing room.
Jesse reluctantly brings me back to the cash register, where the girl is watching us with an interested expression. “So he liked the dress on you, I take it?”
