Page 12 of Never Let Go

The dress shop where Ashley was having her fitting was beautiful. The walls had been painted a dusky pink with gray and white accents, fresh flowers filled vases on every countertop and table, and we were surrounded by wedding dresses that hung on rails or had been put on mannequins.

The air was faintly Jasmine scented and we’d all been served a mimosa as we’d come in. A shop assistant swept Ashley into a changing room surrounded by thick white curtains. As her mom, the rest of the bridal party, and I waited for her to emerge, another shop assistant motioned us toward the leather couches clustered around the main changing area.

I sat down on the edge of a white leather sofa, too wired to relax. The others chatted about the wedding around me. The atmosphere was electrifying, the excitement palpable as squeals and laughter rang out and they speculated about what the dress looked like.

“I bet she went for something wild,” Anna, one of the bridesmaids, said. “There’s no way Ash chose something traditional.”

Mrs. Shaw sniffed. “I showed her many suitable options. If she chose any one of them, it’s traditional enough and it has a uniquely Ashley twist. She’s going to look beautiful. Now, hush.”

Anna exchanged a glance with another bridesmaid, and when both of them looked at me, I shrugged. “I don’t know any more than you do. Sorry.”

As they went back to their speculation, I gripped my mimosa and reminded myself that it had too much alcohol in it to gulp it all down at once. For Ashley’s sake, I was trying to stay focused and to pay attention to the fitting and the wedding, but my mind was on work.

Since I was almost done with the Chesterfield estate, Mr. Harrison had given me a couple more important clients and I really wanted to do a good job. Being here instead of at the office, even on a Friday afternoon, was making me nervous.

I had too much to do, but I took a deep breath and a small sip of my mimosa. Mr. Harrison knew I was out for the rest of the day and he was fine with it. Plus, I hadn’t left anything urgent on my desk, so I really had no reason to be so stressed.

Other than the fact that I was still thinking about Foster. I would be seeing him again soon to finalize all the paperwork, but it just didn’t feel like soon was soon enough. Now that I’d seen him again, it felt like every day I didn’t see him was a day too long.

I knew it would sound utterly crazy to anyone else, which was why I was keeping this particular secret to myself. Period. But it was true.

Every day without him seemed to drag. Weird, considering that I’d just gone twelve years straight without seeing him, but ever since he’d walked out of my office, I’d been looking forward to seeing him again.

Foster had always had that kind of effect on me. In a world where people generally made me a little bit uncomfortable, he was like a safe haven. Sure, he made me nervous, but in that stomach-full-of-butterflies way instead of the gut-full-of-trepidation way.

While I hadn’t recently given it much thought as to why, I used to think it was because he had always been kind to me. As a quasi-wallflower, I’d gotten used to being overlooked by most, but not Foster.

He’d always seen me. Flashed me small smiles. Invited me to shoot pool with them or to come join their table in the library. As unlikely as it’d seemed for a boy as good looking as he had been and still was, Foster had a real way of making people feel good about themselves.

It was why I’d fallen for him so hard—and why so many other girls had too. Often back in college, I’d seen the girls leaving his room early in the morning and I’d always been so damn jealous. He’d never gotten serious with any of them, which had given me hope that maybe I still had a shot, but then I’d reminded myself that I didn’t stand a chance against those girls.

Some of them had been nerdy, like me, but the others hadn’t. They’d been the prom queens, and the cheerleaders, and the sorority girls. The beautiful, graceful ones with legs up to their shoulders and sun-kissed skin.

Me? The sun hated me. With my fair complexion and blonde hair, I had a tendency to look like a lobster if I forgot to put sunscreen on before I just went out to grab a coffee.

An excited cheer went up around me and I blinked myself out of my thoughts to see the curtains had been drawn away to reveal Ashley. Immediately putting my focus where it belonged, I covered my mouth with my hand and my eyes filled with tears as I looked at her where she stood on a small, raised dais in front of the sofas we were on.

“You look gorgeous, honey,” her mother crooned, shooting up and going over to pull her daughter into her arms.

Ashley smiled nervously as her mom let her go. “Do you really think so? It’s not too much?”

Her mom seemed lost for words as her gaze swept over her daughter from head to toe and back up again, and when I realized she wasn’t going to say anything, I stepped in. Getting up, I grinned at her and accepted the veil the shop assistant was holding.

“Oh, it’s way too much, but it’s so completely you that it looks like they made it with you in mind. Your mom is right. You’re gorgeous. How do you feel in it? Do you think this is the one?”

Ashley caught her lip between her teeth and nodded, smoothing her hands down her sides before she turned to face the full wall of mirrors in the changing area. The dress was poofy as hell, with a massively full skirt that had a slit coming up almost all the way to her hip. Little black lace flowers had been sewn onto the skirt and the corset that hugged her torso had been drawn tight, lifting her breasts, and putting them right in everyone’s face.

The black flower detail continued on the corset, but it was much more subdued, just tiny dots of sparkling gems that had been placed in the vague shape of a flower. I would never have been comfortable in something like it, but this wasn’t for me or about me, and for Ash, it really was absolutely perfect.

My best friend liked to make a splash. A statement. She lived her life out in the open and her personality was even larger than her boobs in that dress. The word simple didn’t exist in her vocabulary, and because of that, she was never going to have picked a plain white dress.

Her mother finally found her words again and took the veil from me just as I stepped up behind our bride-to-be, and I smiled as I moved aside to let her mom and her have this moment. “I’d have liked you in something a touch more traditional, but Shelby is right. This is you and you’re beautiful.”

Tears glistened in Ashley’s eyes and in her mom’s as she slid the veil into her daughter’s hair, and then the other bridesmaids burst into applause. Someone handed Ashley’s mimosa to her and her mom made a tearful toast. Selfies were taken, promises were made not to share anything on social media that would give Chase any hints about the dress, and our drinks were drunk.

By the time we finally left the dress shop, Ashley had stopped crying and was giddy with excitement. We hugged everyone else goodbye outside, but she clung to my arm as they got their cabs.

“Come get a drink with me,” she insisted. “I can’t just go home after that. I’m riding such a high and Chase won’t be home for hours.”