Page 54 of Magnetic God

“I’d love to. I’m sure Alessandro won’t have any objections either.”

“Excellent. Any food allergies I should know about?”

“None, but thank you for asking.”

“I’m allergic to shellfish, so I always try to be mindful of other allergies, too.”

“Honestly, God knew better than to give me an allergy. I have an overactive imagination and tend to hash out every worst-case scenario possible.” She snorts. “Come to think of it, I might be rubbing off on my dear husband. He’s usually not so worried about the what-ifs, but from the moment he found out I was pregnant, he’s been extra paranoid.”

“You’re carrying precious cargo. It’s understandable.”

“Do you have any children?”

My chest is so tight that I’m not sure I can speak. “No children, but maybe one day.”

Jacqueline returns at that moment, holding out her phone.

“Buffy and I both think this is the right dress for me. How soon can you have it here?”

I look at the screen and send up a silent prayer.

“You’re in luck. I have that in stock.”

Her lips part. “There’s no way.”

“There is. I’m good friends with the designer. Right this way.”

I wink at Isa as I lead Jacqueline to the dress of her dreams. Do I think it’s right for her? No. Does it matter what I think? No. All that matters is what the bride thinks.

Tears fill her eyes as she looks at the dress. “This is it. This is the dress I’m going to marry Brooks in.”

I hate that I know Brooks won’t like the dress. Well, the Brooks I used to know, at least. A sharp pain stabs through my chest, but I ignore it.

“I’m sure he’s going to think you look stunning.”

At the end of the day, she’s the one who’s going to marry Brooks.

Not me.

It’s so hard to keep a pleasant smile on my face when my heart is breaking.

Isa catches my gaze and I have to look away. I feel like she sees too much, and since her husband knows Brooks, I don’t want anything to get back to him.

I’m mostly over Brooks, and it’s normal to feel pain. Right?

“Let’s get you in a dressing room and try it on,” I say to Jacqueline.

“No need. Just take my measurements.” She peers over her shoulder. “Buffy, have you found anything you like?”

“Not yet.”

She sighs. “Of course not.”

“I’m sure we’ll find your bride’s maids the perfect dress. Now, let’s get those measurements.”

She thankfully doesn’t put up a fight and I get the measurements. It’d be better if she tried on the dress, but since she refuses, I will not press the issue. By the time we’re done with measurements, Buffy has proclaimed that she’s found the perfect dresses for the bridal party.

“It’s to die for,” Buffy says, holding up the form fitting coral dress.

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