Page 31 of Claimed By The Other Brother

Jane's eyes are already watering.

"You look like a princess. Miles is going to lose his mind when he sees you."

There's a knock at the door. Sarah answers it, and my mother walks in.

She stops dead when she sees me. For once, there's no criticism, no anxious commentary. Her hand comes up to cover her mouth, and genuine tears fill her eyes.

"Scarlett," she breathes.

"Oh, sweetheart. You're beautiful."

She crosses the room and takes my hands, careful not to wrinkle the dress.

"I know I've been difficult about this wedding. About everything. But looking at you right now..." Her voice breaks.

"I'm so proud of you."

The unexpected emotion catches me off guard. My own eyes start to well up, and Jane immediately rushes over.

"No, no, no crying!" she says firmly.

"We just spent an hour on that makeup."

My mother laughs through her tears and dabs at her eyes with a tissue.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

The photographer, who's been quietly documenting everything, steps forward.

"Can we get some shots of you in the dress? By the window?"

I move to where she directs, the dress swishing around my legs. The photographer clicks away, capturing every angle.

"Beautiful. Now with your mother and bridesmaids."

Jane and Sarah flankme, and my mother stands beside me. We smile for the camera, and I try to feel the joy I'm supposed to feel. This is my wedding day. I'm surrounded by people who love me. I'm wearing my dream dress.

Why does it feel like I'm playing a part in someone else's story?

"Bouquet time," Monica announces, retrieving the arrangement from its box.

The florist outdid herself. Cream roses mixed with eucalyptus and delicate white ranunculus. I take the bouquet in my hands, the weight of it grounding me.

"Final touches," Jane says, adjusting my veil. She secures it in my updo, the sheer fabric cascading down my back.

Sarah hands me my earrings—simple diamond studs, a gift from Miles for our one-year anniversary. I put them in with shaking hands.

"There." Jane steps back, surveying me.

"You're ready."

I look at myself one more time in the mirror. The bride staring back at me is perfect. Hair, makeup, dress, flowers. Everything is exactly as it should be.

The hotel corridor outside the bridal suite is quiet, elegant, carpeted in deep burgundy. My father is waiting when we emerge, looking handsome in his tuxedo.

His eyes widen when he sees me.

"Scarlett. You look..." He clears his throat, emotion thick in his voice.