“Enzo, I’m a man of my word.”
My fingers dig into the arm of the chair. “A man of their word who got their fifth mistress knocked up and made her get the baby aborted.” His face turns a bright shade of red. “I’m sure your wife would love to see the images of you fucking half the city with the orgies at your city apartment.”
“You play fucking dirty, Ricci,” he grunts out. “I don’t care how you fucking marry her. Just take her off my hands.”
I push down the beast inside me banging on its cage. He is not a father. He is not a man. He is scum. Once I have marriedhis daughter, have her fall in love with me, I will make sure Ciro Costa never hurts my Isabella, my soon-to-be wife again.
“Glad you agree on this.”
I’m hot.
I’m sweaty.
I’m annoyed.
I’m overwhelmed.
And I can’t stand to look, try on or be picked apart anymore in this bridal salon. My mother has made me try on several dresses, but I lost count after dress number twelve. In her words the dresses were too small for my body, my back fat was too much on display. My arms were too flabby in a strapless dress. My cleavage was showing more than I should on my wedding day. My waist was not cinched enough. There is probably a few that I’m missing but at this point, I just want to go home and forget about this whole entire disaster of a day. The only saving grace is that my sister is here. I love her for trying to help with the situation, but my mother was not having it.
Mya, the bridal attendant, whispers to me in the fitting room after yet again my mother cast her opinion at me. “I can tell that you have hit your max in this appointment, and I don’t blame you.”
I meet her soft brown eyes in the mirror.
“The last dress was the only time in this appointment that your face lit up, but it was not the one…yet.” I’m still standing in the white, satin ballgown that has one high slit on the right side, showing off my thick tan leg. The sleeves are capped off my shoulders with the slightest of cleavage. The waist has rouching to hide my largeness.
My gaze is locked on the mid-size bridal boutique attendant. She has the perfect amount of curves with no rolls on her stomach that I can see. The way she has her blonde hair curled at the ends with enough volume at her roots is stunning.
“Maybe today is not the day that I find my wedding dress. I can always try another day, plus I think my mother is right that none of these dresses are for me.” I say, pushing back the tears of frustration.
She smiles at me with her crimson red lips. “I have one more trick up my sleeve that I have been saving in case you did not find anything.” She places her hands on her hips while I’m standing on the pedestal in the fitting room. “Do you trust me?”
Closing my eyes, I count to three in my head before I respond. “Sure, I guess. One more to add to the no pile anyway from my mother.”
“I’ll be back in a moment,” she says before she leaves me in the room.
I twist my arms behind my back to unzip the dress. Letting it pool around my feet on the podium. My eyes trail up my half-naked body. My legs are thick, and jiggly and does not have that gap in the middle. My underwear is cute with the touches of lace, but cuts into my wide hips. The fupa pokes out of them slightly. My stomach has stretch marks and is nowhere near flat. My full breasts spill out of the strapless bra I have on. They too have stretch marks on them. All I can think about is what Ian is going to think about when he sees me naked for the first time. Maybe I can convince him to leave the lights off or something.
I’m so lost in my own thoughts that I don’t hear Mya return to the dressing room. She is sporting the biggest grin on her face with the dress in her hands, which is still concealed in the garment bag.
“I think this is going to win them over, but most importantly, win you over. This dress screams Isabella.” She hangs it up on the hook to the left of the room.
“Okay,” is all I can say because honestly, I have already mentally checked out of this appointment.
Mya ignores me and tends to the dress I have sitting on the floor. She hangs it up among the others in the room.
“This time, I want you to face away from the mirror while I help you into this dress.” She tells me, and I raise my eyebrows at her request. “This is what I like to call the yes moment. The moment you see yourself as a bride for the first time. The moment you see yourself as a woman who is sexy and beautiful. The moment where you don’t ever want to take the dress off. The moment where you say this is the dress you will walk down the aisle in.”
I take in her words with hopefulness as she turns to take the dress out of the bag. Turning away from the mirror, my eyes widen at the stunning fabric she has taken out of the bag. The top of the dress has pearls throughout with an interknit design but not over the top. The front dips a little but not deep enough to reveal my breasts. The sleeves are capped with the same design. The lining is a lace material with a ribbon in the back to tighten to my liking. It stops at the waist leaving the bottom all tulle. It’s almost a ball gown but an A frame style.
“Are you ready?” Mya asks before the beautiful dress touches my skin.
My hands reach out to lightly for my fingertips to touch the fabric. “Yes. I want to try this one on.” My voice comes out as an excited whisper.
Mya smiles big and starts to unbutton the back of the dress for me to get into. She bends in front of me to step into the dress. I use her shoulders to hold my balance on the stand. I don’t have to shimmy my way into the beautiful lace and tulle material. Itslides up my legs, my hips and waist with ease. I slip my arms into the sleeves ever so gently without ripping the lace or having it pull against my flabby arms. Pressing my hands on my waist as Mya zips the inner part of the dress then buttons the outer layer.
Once the dress is fully on my body, Mya scoots down to gather the long train and says, “Okay, Isabella, turn around slowly when you are ready.”
Letting out a deep breath, I move my feet that are shoved into a pair of nude pumps ever so slightly. I close my eyes at the last second to not ruin the anticipation of seeing myself in the dress. Taking in the few moments to let myself believe that I will be happy with what I see in the mirror before letting in the negative comments that I know are only waiting to be hurled at me right outside the door.
