But now?
The dress sits peacefully in its protective garment bag, a perfect combination of vintage and new styles. It isn’t fully white, the color a little closer to ivory, prettier than the blue-white tint of the other dresses I saw.
Biting my lip, I breathe in deeply, then exhale.
This is my choice.
One the one hand, it doesn’t matter. They’re just dresses, meant for an arranged marriage that was hastily planned and executed. But I know what it could mean if I choose something different for myself. If I choose my own path.
After hesitating for one more second, I pull the white dress off the hanger. It’s the one I loved. The one I wanted.
I want to choose the future I saw for myself when I was young, when I trusted and loved Aiden. I want to acknowledge how close we’ve come to that moment in time over the past few weeks. We may not be teenagers anymore, we may be damaged and broken in many ways, but we’re together now.
This white dress will symbolize a fresh start. A new beginning.
I don’t want to cling to the anger and hurt of the past anymore. I’d prefer to let myself be happy, and to move forward.
There’s a knock at the door a few moments after I finish dressing. I turn toward it, calling, “Come in!”
The door opens, and my father enters.
A pang stirs in my chest, a bone-deep ache that makes me swallow hard. He looks like he hasn’t slept well, the lines around his eyes making him look tired.
“Hey, Dad,” I murmur, stepping toward him. “Is everything set out there?”
“Yes. It’s almost time.” He nods stiffly, then hesitates for a moment before saying, “I never meant for you to get mixed up in this.”
Guilt is clear in his expression, and I shake my head, hating the way it seems to be eating him up inside. “It’s okay, Dad. It’s not your fault.”
His mouth goes tight at the corners, his shoulders tensing. He looks like he might say something else, but then he just pulls me into a tight hug, holding me close.
“If you want out of this, I’ll get you out,” he whispers. “You can run. Now. I’ll cover for you.”
My heart lurches. I know what he’s offering. If I leave, he’ll pay the price for going back on his deal with the O’Reillys, and that won’t be pretty. No matter how much Aiden seems to have softened toward me over the past weeks, I know he still doesn’t like my father. I know how this kind of shit works in the mafia.
“No.” I pull back, meeting my dad’s gaze. “No, it’s okay. Maybe this will be for the best. With our families bound together, maybe things will get better.”
My father looks like he’s not so sure about that, but he presses a kiss to my forehead, holding me against him for a long moment before finally stepping back.
“You’re as brave and beautiful as your mother was,” he murmurs. “She would’ve been proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I smile at him, feeling tears burn my eyes. He hesitates for another moment, then nods and leaves the room. I return to my preparations, working on my hair and makeup. Someone else knocks as I finish my eyelashes, the mascara wand in my hand trembling.
“Come in,” I say, standing up.
Willow slips into the room, and I turn toward her, surprised. I knew she was invited to the wedding, but I didn’t expect to see her back here. She looks just as strung out as ever, her cascading hair hiding the shadowed edges of her face.
She looks around the room as she comes in, tentative, like she thinks Dmitri is hiding in a corner, ready to haul her away.
It’s horrifying. Disgusting, that she has to exist in this constant state of dread.
“Rose. I hope I’m not interrupting.”
I glance around the empty room. “No. It’s good to see you.”
