“Oh, uh, something came up,” I say. “He won’t be able to make it.”
The lie feels so lifeless coming out of me, I barely believe it myself, but it seems to appease The Beave because she snaps her stupid fingers and says, “Well then, let’s get started. We’ll be trying on ceremony dresses first. I had them pull classic silhouettes as well as elegant off-the-shoulder pieces.”
“Great,” I say, going with the motions.
“Right this way, Miss Fairweather-Fern,” one of the shop assistants says.
“Please just call me Lia. If you need to add a miss in there, Miss Lia is just fine. Using my whole name is a mouthful.”
The attendant smiles at me and then leads me back to a very large dressing room where a few dresses have been hung, waiting to be tried on. Three very grotesque, ballgown-shaped dresses, three slender silhouette dresses—that look more like nightgowns than anything—and two mermaid-style dresses that look like they have absolutely no give.
“Here is a robe for you,” the assistant says. “Why don’t you get changed out of your clothes and dressed in the robe, and an attendant will come in and assist you?”
“Great. Thank you.” When the door closes, I set my coffee and purse down on the provided table and then slip out of my shirt and pants. I’m not one to be naked in front of strangers, so I wore a pair of boy short underwear that covers up a lot—I’m sure The Beave would be horrified—and my least revealing strapless bra.
I slip on the light pink silk robe, cinch it at the waist, and then I sit down in the chair and stare at the dresses.
I hate them.
All of them.
Too many embellishments.
Too slinky.
Too poofy.
Not enough space in the dress to walk.
They’re nothing I would pick for myself.
I always thought I’d wear something simple with maybe a touch of lace, not these full, fabric-filled dresses that need a crane operator to get it on.
What is supposed to be a fun, once-in-a-lifetime moment has quickly turned into a sad, bleak day that I’m sure will live forever in my mind as a dark memory, right along with the moment I found out my parents passed away.
I rest my head against the wall behind me and bring my coffee to my lips. I just want this to be over. I want it all to be over.
The planning.
The wedding.
The pain.
I want to be transported back to a time when everything is okay with Breaker, and I’m not so alone, but surrounded by loved ones. I want him at my side, telling jokes, making me laugh, and letting me know that no matter what, he’ll always be there for me.
But he’s not.
Not today.
Tears well in my eyes, and I quickly blink them back.
No, don’t cry.
Please don’t cry. Not here, not now.
Not in front of Brian’s mom.
Knock. Knock.
Fuck. I blink the tears back some more and quickly dab at them. Maybe I can pass the watery eyes off as excitement for the dresses. With a heavy heart, I call out, “I’m ready.”
The door opens, and I expect the assistant to walk through, but instead, Breaker steps in, absolutely stealing every ounce of oxygen from my lungs. His eyes connect with mine as he gently shuts the door behind him.
My heart races at the sight of him.
My emotions get the best of me.
And before I can stop myself, I let out a sob and then clutch my hand over my eyes as I cry.
“Shhhh,” he says as he kneels in front of me and presses his hand to my cheek.
I slink down to the floor with him, and I wrap my hands around his waist, sinking into his chest and his comforting embrace.
“I thought . . .” I say through tears. “I thought you . . . you weren’t coming.”
He strokes my hair and holds me tightly. “I would never miss this, Lia.”
“But . . . we haven’t . . . talked.” I pull away to look him in the eyes. He swipes at my tears with his thumbs.
“I thought we needed a second to gather ourselves.” He strokes my cheek. “I didn’t handle things right with you, and I thought that if I gave us a second, I could express what I’ve been feeling rather than blaming you for my problems.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say. “I just want to hold you.”
He cups the back of my head as I go in for another hug, clinging to him desperately.
“I can’t lose you, Breaker.”
“You’re not losing me, Lia. Never. I would never let that fucking happen.”
“Promise?” I ask, insecurity so heavy in my voice that I can taste it.
“I promise you,” he says with sincerity.
I sniff and say, “I ran into Birdy at the coffeehouse, and she said she was meeting up with you. I thought . . . I thought you ditched me for her.”
“Never,” he says softly while stroking my hair. “I had to give her some binoculars to practice with for our hike tomorrow.”
“Really?” I ask as I lift to look him in the eyes.
“Yes, really. This is an important day, Lia, of course, I would be here for it.”
“Thank you,” I say softly as another wave of tears hits me.
He stands from the floor and grabs a box of tissues, only to sit back down with me. This time, he leans against my chair and pulls me to his side.
I wipe at my nose, and we just sit there in silence.
He’s here. With me.
The thought rocks me, and once again, I tear up.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks.
“Just grateful you’re here. More grateful than you probably know.”
“No matter what happens between us, Lia, I will always be there for you. Always. Okay?” I nod, and he presses a kiss to the top of my head before saying, “As much as I just want to sit here with you, I have to get back out there. The Beave is already pissed at me because I showed up late, and I don’t want to make her madder.”
“Don’t leave,” I say in a panic. “Help me into these dresses.”
“Uh, don’t you want an attendant to do that?”
I shake my head. “I’m so freaking raw right now, Breaker. I can barely breathe. I need you in here, with me, by my side. Please stay . . .”
Chapter Ten
BREAKER
Those pleading green eyes.
The tears falling over her cheeks.
The desperation in her expression. I feel useless.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lia like this. Ever. Which could only mean one thing—she’s not in a good headspace at all, and no way am I going to leave her to herself.
“Of course, I can stay,” I say as I stand and pull her up with me.
Knock. Knock.
“Miss Lia,” the attendant says. “Are you ready to try on some dresses?”
Lia looks up at me with a terrified expression, so I go to the door and part it open. “Actually, I’m going to help her into her dresses, if you don’t mind. Can you pull a few simple gowns with some of that lace detail on them? Especially the one that is upfront on the mannequin.”
“Yes, of course, Mr. Cane.”