Page 141 of Rule Breakers Fall Hardest

So it begins.

“I didn’t choose this place.”My mom sounds rather proud of this odd statement as I park in front of the final bridal shop. From the outside, at least, it’s a tiny hole-in-the-wall place.

“What does that mean? You gave me the address.” I turn in my seat and assess her, confused.

“Daire made this appointment for you.”

“Huh?” My heart pounds out a strange rhythm in my chest. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, but he’s so in love with you, Rosie,” she gushes, clasping her hands in front of her. “I see now why you rushed into marrying him. If I found a man that obsessed with me, I wouldn’t want to wait either.”

I rub my face and force myself to breathe, trying to grasp what she’s saying. “He made this appointment?”

“Honestly, Rosie,” she sighs heavily, “you can be so dense sometimes. That’s what I said.”

From the back seat, Gracie groans. “Can we hurry up? I want dinner.”

Honestly, same.

My mom’s been on a rampage, determined to find the perfect dress, and forced us to skip right over lunch. I haven’t scored any points with her yet. I’m definitely on her shit list after finding fault in every ballgown she’s trapped me in. I wouldn’t put it past her to buy one anyway, just to spite me.

She looks out the window now at the tiny shop, nose wrinkling in distaste. “I wonder how he found this place. It looks… quaint.”

Byquaint, she means not good enough.

“I don’t know, but we might as well go in.”

The bell above the door chimes pleasantly, signaling our arrival, along with Grace’s loud “something stinks.”

“Oh my God.” The girl behind the tiny desk up front slowly pulls her Tupperware container of food closer to her. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time. I was starving, and I know it smells like garlic, but I was so hung?—”

I hold up a hand and bite back a laugh. “It’s fine. Please eat. We’ll look around while you finish up.”

“Are you sure?” She grimaces, her face etched with what I swear is fear. “I can put this away.”

“No, go ahead.”

Beside me, Grace pinches her nose and huffs.

I quickly swat at her arm. “Stop that,” I whisper. To the girl working in the store, I say, “Ignore her. Grace has an incredible talent for being dramatic.”

The concern on the girl’s face is quickly replaced by amusement. With a laugh, she agrees, and we head off to browse the selection.

I drag Gracie over to a row of dresses that look like what she’s been fixated on all day, hoping to distract her.

I think she’s as obsessed with turning me into her own living doll as our mom.

After the girl finishes up her lunch or dinner or whatever meal it’s supposed to be, she comes over and introduces herself as Taylor.

“Your fiancé made the appointment for you and sent over a picture for inspiration. Do you have anything else in mind? Fabrics? We’ll talk about the sketch too and make any tweaks you want.”

I blink at her, confused by the words coming out of her mouth. It all sounded like gibberish to me.

“Huh?” I blurt.

My mom steps up, a hand on my shoulder. “What are you talking about? A sketch?”

Taylor looks between the three of us. “Uh… her fiancé emailed over a sketch of a wedding dress. He said it was something you drew when you were younger and that he wanted you to have your custom dream weddingdress. It’s all paid for. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

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