Connor’s expression turns surly at the reminder. “Right. Dennis.”
The mere mention of that name sends a jolt of anxiety through my body. I turn away quickly, pretending to search for my socks while hiding my reaction.
“He’s interested in the waterfront property near our new house. I’m not sure I want him living that close to us.”
“Why not?” I ask, working to keep my voice casual while my heart hammers.
“There’s something not right about that man. Comment dit-on... I can’t put my finger on it.”
I turn back to face Connor, forcing a neutral expression despite my rising panic. My hands fidget with the socks I’ve found, rolling them together and apart.
“Not right how? He seemed perfectly normal when I met him at your office.”
Connor sits up fully now, the sheets pooling around his waist. “Just a feeling,” he says. “He asks too many questions.”
I swallow hard, walking to grab my overnight bag and buy myself a moment. “Maybe he’s just being friendly? Or networking? That’s what homebuyers do, right?”
“Maybe,” Connor concedes, though he doesn’t sound convinced.
“Well, you don’t have to like him to sell him property.” I lean down to kiss his forehead. “You’ve been so supportive through this whole wedding-planning fiasco,” I add, changing the subject. “Especially with your mother. Thank you for that.”
“Always,” he says simply, grabbing my waist. “You and I are a team, Meesha. Always have been.”
I lean down to kiss him, pouring all my love and hopes into the gesture.
“I love you,” I whisper against his lips, meaning it more than I ever have.
“Je t’aime aussi,” he responds, tucking a braid behind my ear. “More than you know, là.”
I kiss Connor one last time before heading to the shower, my mind already racing ahead to the dress fitting. As hot water cascades over me, I can’t shake the thought of Dennis potentially becoming our neighbor.
The man who could destroy everything I’ve built with Connor, living next door? It’s a nightmare scenario.
By the time I arrive at Bridal Elegance, Jasmine and Jessa are already waiting outside with Carmen, my stepmother. Carmen’s warm smile breaks through my anxiety as she hugs enthusiastically.
“Meesha! Querida!” She embraces me tightly. “Your mama is already on the phone, waiting to see you!”
Sure enough, she holds up her phone where Mama’s face fills the screen. “Baby girl!” Mama calls out. “I can’t wait to see this dress!”
Inside the boutique, I’m ushered into a private fitting room where my replacement gown hangs. It’s identical to the one that was ruined—ivory lace overlaying champagne silk, off-shoulder with a plunging back. The sight of it brings a wave of relief; at least something is going according to plan.
“Thank goodness they could replace it,” Jasmine says as the consultant helps me into it.
I stare at my reflection, trying to recapture the joy I felt when I first chose this design. Instead, my mind keeps conjuring images of Dennis smirking at me across a property line for years to come.
“Oh, Meesha...” Jasmine’s eyes fill with tears.
“Perfeita,” Carmen whispers, her Brazilian accent thickening with emotion.
My mother on the screen covers her mouth. “My beautiful girl. You look just like an angel.”
Their reactions pierce through my anxiety, making this moment real. I’m marrying Connor. Despite everything, he still wants me. The thought brings unexpected tears to my eyes.
“The dress was made for you,” Jessa says, smoothing down the train. “Connor’s going to lose his mind when he sees you.”
“If he’s still speaking to me by then,” I mutter before I can stop myself.
“What does that mean?” Mama asks from the phone.
