Page 66 of Writing On The Wall

“This one is definitely more you,” Jeanie gushes, taking in the details of the gown with its delicate cap sleeves.

Fretta concedes with a slight nod, but there’s a softness in her eyes as she smiles at her daughter. “You look beautiful, dear.”

Ember grins and slips away into the dressing room, hinting that the next one will be even more amazing. We’re eagerly awaiting her return when Jeanie surprises me by leaning in once again, her voice a comforting whisper. “I didn’t get to say this earlier, but I want you to know that Ethan would be lucky to have someone like you, hun. Don’t doubt yourself just because your life’s been rough.” Her expression comforts me in that familiar parental way, nudging me gently towards self-assurance. I gulp down the lump in my throat, fighting back the tears itching to break free.

Fretta angles herself to face me on the other side, offering a surprisingly tender pat on my knee. “She’s right, Ivy. Any man would be fortunate to have you.”

“You…you heard all of that?” I sputter.

She laughs daintily. “Sweetheart, my age may be showing, but my ears work just fine.”

“Please don’t tell Ember,” I implore, sniffing as I search my pockets for a tissue. Ever the fairy godmother, Jeanie holds out a tissue of her own. I take it and dab at my nose in the most ladylike fashion I can manage. “It’s a long story that Ember doesn’t need to stress over.”

Fretta mimes zipping her lips, and Jeanie envelops me in a side hug.

“What did I miss?”

We look up to find Ember back on the pedestal, her brow furrowed with concern. Fretta, Jeanie, and I collectively gasp, struck by the breathtaking vision in front of us.

“Oh, Em!” The slow leak of tears before have startedflowing freely as I take in my friend and her glowing smile. The A-line gown cascades gracefully over her hips, elegantly accentuating her curves. Delicate lace covers the bodice, creating a subtle sparkle under the soft glow of light, and the skirt’s airy layers of flowing tulle sweep the floor in a way that make it look like she’s floating.

Jeanie offers more tissues to Fretta and me without turning away from Ember, and we both take them gratefully.

“I think this is the one,” Ember gushes breathlessly, her face splitting into a wide grin. She steps off the pedestal and performs a graceful twirl. “Oh! And the best part—” She sticks her hands into the sides of the gown and wiggles them. “It has pockets!”

I squeal in delight, and we all surround her for a group hug. It’s about as awkward as you’d imagine until we end it with a few pats to the back.

Ember reluctantly returns to change back into her clothes while Fretta settles paying for her daughter’s gown, and I’m so grateful this ended well. Three months ago, Ember would haveneverwillingly invited her mother anywhere out of her fear of being constantly berated. But Colton helping her find her voice has truly been the best thing for her whole family.

Another message vibrates on my phone.

Ethan

I’m taking your walls down today, Ivy June

My breath catches in my throat as a wave of anticipation and a hint of apprehension wash over me. The weight of his words, both literal and metaphorical, settles in my stomach. I honestly don’t think I have what it takes to keep those walls up for much longer, anyway.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

ETHAN

Marco keeps snickering and shaking his head every time we pass the wall—the one with the list and the notes Ivy and I have been exchanging. Her latest addition feels like warm, gooey chocolate sauce poured over ice cream.

You’re realy good at what yuo do.

What is it about Ivy’s compliments that make my insides turn to mush?

“Would you hurry your ass up?” I grumble halfheartedly. “This mess needs to be cleaned before Ivy gets home.”

“Man,” he shakes his head teasingly, “youarewhipped.” His shoulders shake as he continues on, hefting bits of drywall into the trailer hitched to the back of my truck.

“Dude, don’t be the exclamation inPanic! At The Disco. Ivy has a boyfriend. We’re barely friends. I’m just helping her ‘cause Colton asked me to.” We lift the wheelbarrow together and empty its contents into the trailer. I pull off my gloves anduse my arm to wipe the sweat off my forehead. Marco clears his throat, nudging me with an elbow.

My stomach drops when I turn, finding Ivy’s slitted eyes laser-focused on me and her hands fisted at her waist. How did I miss her arrival? There’s no doubt she heard my words—their effect is currently evident in her face. But I only said them for Ivy’s sake, to get Marco off my back and protect her fake relationship. If it were up to me, I’d happily admit to Marco that I’m beyond whipped, but I’m just hoping for a pity date. Although goingoutwould probably have to be dinnerinso long as she’s continuing her ruse with Toby. And to keep up that nauseating facade, we couldn’t allow word to get out that we’re dating. Buthopefullywe’re dating…or will be soon.

In other words, regardless of Ivy’s feelings for me, it’s official. I’m whipped. Not mad about it, either.

My mouth involuntarily curls up into a smirk as I stare back at the feisty little thing trying to fry my brain with her eyes.

---