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“We will continue this conversation another time.”
Chelsea
Malachi’s words play on my mind, but fade away the second I set foot into the room when Marvin attacks me with a measuring tape. His long blond hair flashes in front of my face as he gets to work.
A slender figure appears in the open doorway and a redhead with a notepad clasped to her chest hurries past and sits down on the window seat.
“Twenty-six-inch waist,” Marvin calls to the woman. She nods once before retrieving a ballpoint pen from her messy bun and jotting my measurements down.
“How tall are you, flower?” Marvin asks, peering up at me as he circles the tape around my thighs.
“Five foot four,” I say, glancing around the grand room.Lucian’s bedroom. The walls are painted slate grey. Sepia photographs of landscapes hang in black frames. The room is ginormous, with a leather sofa and table one side and an opulent four-poster bed the other. Laid out on the duvet is a selection of gowns concealed by plastic covers.
“Can you walk in heels?” Marvin asks as he gets to his feet.
I nod. “Sure, what girl can’t?”
My best friend Lizzie, that’s who.
I smile as the memory of my best friend flashes in my mind. To watch Lizzie walk in heels is like watching a foal taking its first steps—unsure, unstable, and utterly adorable. I know it’s only been one day, but I can’t help wondering if Lizzie or my sister have tried to contact me.I would know if I had my phone.
“I know just the dress,” the redhead says, pulling me from my thoughts. She makes one final entry in her notepad before snapping the pages together and pushing the pen into her messy bun. She stands from the window seat and makes her way over to the bed. Bending down, she flicks through the dresses as though she’s flicking through pages of a book.
I can only imagine the thousands of pounds each garment must have cost. A girl like me doesn’t wear gowns this extravagant. Now I know how Eliza Doolittle must have felt inMy Fair Lady. I wouldn’t say I’m the embodiment of rags to riches, but this doesn’t feel right. I shift awkwardly from side to side because I’m in way over my head.
“I’m sorry, Marvin, and… I didn’t quite catch your name.”
“Valerie,” the redhead says, looking up. “Valerie Cooper.”
I rock on my heels several times before speaking. “Valerie, Marvin. I appreciate you coming to help me find a dress, but these are really too much. They must have cost a fortune.”
Valerie and Marvin share a knowing glance before Marvin nods. “These gowns are priceless.”
Plastic rattles as Valerie lifts a dress from the pile. She unzips the plastic cover to reveal the most beautiful white gown I have ever seen. “I’m sure Annabelle would be delighted to know you’ll be wearing her dress.”
“Annabelle?” The question rolls off my tongue.
“Annabelle Calloway. She designed all the dresses you see before you,” Marvin says, making a sweeping gesture with his arm.
“Oh. Wow.” My eyebrows shoot up. Annabelle must be Lucian’s mother. I vaguely recall him saying she worked in fashion.His mother is a dress designer?I can’t refuse to wear the dress now knowing that it is something she has put her heart and soul into making.
“I would be honoured,” I say, fidgeting with the ends of my hair. “If you don’t think Annabelle would mind?”
Marvin and Valerie exchange glances, and it’s as though they are having a silent conversation.
“Annabelle Calloway, God rest her soul, passed away fifteen years ago.” Marvin’s expression is questioning as he meets my stare. Without a word he’s asking how I don’t know this already. After all, I am meant to be Lucian’s fiancée.
“He has never mentioned his mother,” I say, feeling the need to say something. To say anything.
Marvin raises his hands. “Please, don’t feel the need to explain. Just focus on looking amazing in the dress. Here, allow me.” Taking the gown from Valerie, he drapes the cool fabric over me.
I can’t do this, I just can’t.
“This is the last outfit Annabelle designed. She would be so happy knowing that Lucian’s fiancée is going to be wearing it.”
I couldn’t feel any smaller than I do in this moment. My head that I held high moments ago lowers as guilt tightens its grip on me. If Lucian’s mum was looking down right now, I’m sure she would be turning in her grave. I am not the woman who’ll be marrying her son. I am nothing but an imposter.
“I couldn’t. I mean, I can’t wear this dress. Don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful, it’s just—” What the hell do I even say?It’s just I’m only pretending to be engaged to Lucian.How can I possibly wear something that holds such sentimental value? “Is there another dress? We could go to the shopping centre and pick something new?” I clasp my palm over my mouth. I sound so ungrateful.
