I had feelings for Matteo. Real, deep, terrifying feelings. The kind that could build into something lasting. But I also had unfinished business with Femi. Feelings I'd never resolved. A first love I'd never properly mourned.
I needed to figure it out. For Matteo. For Femi. For myself, most of all.
Hawaii would give me answers. One way or another, I would know.
I just hoped I was brave enough to face whatever truth I found waiting for me there.
17ISABELLE
The dress was perfect.
I circled the mannequin one last time, checking every seam, every bead, every inch of fabric. The bodice fit exactly as I'd designed it—structured but not stiff, elegant but not fussy, modern yet timeless. The skirt fell in soft waves of silk that would move like water when Aria walked down the aisle.
Three months of work. Countless fittings. A dozen late nights hunched over my sewing machine, adjusting and readjusting until my fingers ached and my eyes burned.
And now it was done.
Meg appeared at my elbow, tablet in hand. "The shipping company confirmed pickup for tomorrow morning. It'll arrive in Hawaii two days before the wedding."
"Insurance?"
"Fully covered. I tripled it, just in case."
"Good." I stepped back from the mannequin. "And the backup dress?"
"Already packed. Separate shipment, different carrier, arrives the day after."
Two dresses. Two shipments. Two carriers. Paranoid, maybe. But I'd heard too many horror stories about wedding dresseslost in transit, arriving wrinkled or damaged or not at all. Aria deserved better than that.
"The accessories?"
"Packed in my carry-on. Veil, shoes, jewelry. I'm not letting them out of my sight."
I exhaled slowly. "Okay. I think we're ready."
"We've been ready for a week." Meg smiled. "You've checked everything at least fifteen times. At some point, you have to trust the process."
"I'll trust the process when the dress is on Aria's body and she's walking down the aisle."
"Fair enough." She tucked her tablet under her arm. "Your flight leaves tomorrow at eight. I'll meet you at the airport."
"You're not coming tonight?"
"I have a few more things to wrap up here." She squeezed my shoulder. "Go. Get some sleep. You look exhausted."
I was exhausted. The past week had been a blur of final adjustments and shipping logistics and phone calls with vendors. I'd barely slept, barely eaten, barely thought about anything except getting this dress to Hawaii in one piece.
Barely thought about Matteo.
That was a lie. I'd thought about him constantly. In the quiet moments between tasks. In the middle of the night when sleep wouldn't come. His face swam before me at the strangest times—while I was pinning fabric, while I was on the phone with the shipping company, while I was staring at the ceiling in the dark.
Figure it out. I'll be waiting.
I hadn't called him. Hadn't texted. What would I even say?
I think I might be in love with you but I'm too scared to admit it. I agreed to try again with my ex-boyfriend because I don't know how to let go of my first love. I'm a mess and you deserve better.
No. Better to stay silent. Better to focus on the wedding, on the dress, on anything other than the chaos in my own heart.
