Page 140 of Triplet Babies for my Ex's Best Friend

An hour later, I've tried on more dresses than I have in the last five years combined.

“Too much,” I say, staring at myself in a gown that looks like it belongs on a red carpet and not on a woman who once cried in a Target changing room over jeans.

“Too structured,” I say in another.

“Too… shiny?”

Isabelle remains endlessly patient. Ethan sits nearby like this is a business meeting, watching, which is deeply unhelpful.

“Do you have opinions,” I call out from behind the door, “or are you just here for moral support?”

“I have opinions.”

“Great. Share them.”

“Come out.”

Rude.

I step out in the next dress.

And…

Okay. I stop because this one's different. It’s elegant without trying too hard. Soft, but structured in the right places. It fits like it was made for me, which is offensive considering I have never in my life owned anything like this.

I look at myself in the mirror, and I don’t see the girl who got dumped at an airport. I see someone else. Someone who belongs in a room like that, which is terrifying.

“Well?” I say, quieter now.

Ethan doesn’t answer immediately, which is worse than if he had.

I glance at him, and…oh. He’s looking at me like… like that.

Heat floods my face instantly. “This is a mistake. I look ridiculous.”

“You don’t.”

Isabelle, traitor, says, “I think we’ve found it.”

I laugh nervously. “Let’s not get carried away?—”

“Addy.”

I look at him again. Big mistake.

“You’re not ridiculous,” he says. “You’re exactly where you should be.”

My stomach flips.

That isn't helpful at all.

“I’m going to change,” I say quickly, backing toward the dressing room before I do something insane like believe him.

The problem with dressing rooms is that they're small and enclosed, and apparently, the place Ethan chooses to follow me into.

“Ethan…”

The door closes behind him, and suddenly the space is very, very small.