Page 64 of Deadly Oath

“Well, with your figure, I think we might be able to go with something off the rack. We have some in the smaller sizes, so we’ll start with that, and if you don’t find something you like, we’ll move up tothe others and see how long alterations will take. I’ll pop a bottle of champagne for you ladies, and I’ll be right back.”

The champagne, when it’s brought, is definitely purchased from a local grocery store—I’ve spent my life sipping Dom and Cristal, and the difference is noticeable to me. But Marie and Daphne are thrilled, and their excitement fuels mine. Bad champagne means nothing on a day like this, and I sip happily at my glass as the woman who greeted us—Brenda—puts an array of dresses into a room for me behind a pink velvet curtain.

“You were meant to be a bride,” Brenda declares, from the first dress she helps me into. “This is stunning on you.”

She’s absolutely right. I know I want to try on more than one dress, but the first is beautiful—a strapless, structured satin gown with a lace overlay that has thin straps and flows out over the underskirt, studded with 3-D flowers all over the lower part of the bodice and skirt. I look as if I stepped into a fairytale, the waist nipping in and the skirt flowing out to give me more of a curve than I actually have, and I feel as if I’m looking at a princess in the mirror. I can picture it—blonde hair curled, a light bit of makeup, and a long, flowing veil to match.

Marie and Daphne’s gasps when I step out tell me that they’re thinking exactly the same thing. “That’s the one,” Marie says decisively, and Daphne laughs.

“It’s beautiful,” Daphne says. “But you should definitely try on more than one. This is hard to beat, though.”

“It matches my ring.” It has the same delicate, fairytale, ethereal quality as the ring Kian chose for me, and I almost don’t want to take it off. I slip out of it reluctantly, reaching for the next dress Brenda hands me, a sleek silk gown that clings to every inch of me, with narrow straps and a skirt that pools around my feet. It’s classic, elegant, and very much what I imagine I might have worn in my other life. But that alone makes me hesitant to choose it.

I try on a number of other dresses, everything from a princess-style strapless ballgown with a huge, horsehair-stiffened tulle skirt to an off-the-shoulder satin dress spangled with small seed pearls, butmy mind keeps drifting back to the first dress. Daphne insists we go to the next appointment, where I try on a flurry of other gowns—a mermaid style that’s all in lace, a strapless satin bodice with a cascade of feathers for a skirt, a sweet A-line dress with fluttery cap sleeves and swiss dot lace. But none of them feel quite right, and by the end of the day, I find myself wanting to go back to the first store.

When I put the fairytale dress back on, I’m sure of it. I step out of the dressing room again as Brenda fastens a chapel-length veil to my hair, and the way Marie gasps as I turn towards her and Daphne seals it. I’m sure that this is the one.

Marie’s second gasp is when Brenda rings it up. “Kian gave me a credit card,” I tell her, which I’m thankful for. He told me not to worry about cost, when he handed it to me after putting the ring on my finger, and I was glad he did. My little editing job certainly doesn’t pay enough to fund a dress like this, and I can only imagine the look on Caldwell’s face if I told him I needed additional funds for a wedding dress.

“Oh, that’s so sweet!” Marie exclaims, and Daphne raises an eyebrow.

“That was good of him. Is he funding the rest of the wedding, too?”

I can hear the suspicion in her voice. I know that, unlike Cindy, hers is rooted in worry for me, and it makes me feel worse about concealing what’s really going on. Marie is bowled over by the supposed romance of it all, but Daphne is a bit more pragmatic, and for a moment, I wish I could just tell her the truth.

“We’ll get married at the church for a small donation, so no cost there. And then go out to eat afterward,” I tell her. “I was going to ask the two of you if you’d be our witnesses later, but no time like the present, I suppose, since we’re talking about it. I think Kian is fine with covering a meal for the four of us for a sort of reception. A celebratory dinner.”

“He doesn’t have anyone he’s inviting?” Daphne asks, an edge still in her voice, though I can tell she’s coming around.

“He said he hasn’t been here long enough to get that close withanyone. But he knows the two of you are important to me,” I add, and as I say it, I realize it’s true. Marieismy friend, and if I were to leave, I would miss Daphne, too. “So we both want you included.”

“We’d be honored,” Marie cuts in, putting a hand on Daphne’s arm and giving her a meaningful look. “I’m so happy for you, Sabrina. The move was hard on you at first, I could tell. But now you’re finding a life here.”

I am.Her words wrap around my heart, warming it, and I realize that I’m beginning to think I could be happy here. Maybe this marriage was for a practical reason, but it’s romantic, too, in its own way. More romantic than any match I would have made in my old life would ever have been.

I’m glad that I’m marrying Kian. I’m glad that I’ve decided to be his.

For the first time since that fateful night in Chicago, I’m beginning to see a future for myself.

26

SABRINA

Exactly a week later, my wedding day dawns bright, sunny, and chilly. Marie and Daphne show up at my house at noon on the dot, ready to fuss over me for the ceremony. Marie brings something else, too—a gorgeous white fur stole that I stare at in surprise.

“My mother got married on Christmas,” she explains. “This was hers. I thought you could wear it until we get to the church—for your something old. And borrowed,” she adds with a small laugh.

“I brought you something, too,” Daphne says with a smile. “Blue, and borrowed as well.” She takes out a small drawstring bag from her purse, and upends it on my dresser. Inside are two vintage earrings—dark blue sapphires set in twisted gold halos.

“They don’t match your ring,” she says apologetically. “But I thought you might like them.”

“I love them,” I tell her sincerely, picking them up and looking at each one. “They’re perfect.”

“Oh, good,” Daphne says, clearly relieved. “Now, let’s get you ready for your wedding.”

I already showered and blow-dried my hair, and now Daphne andMarie go into full hair-and-makeup team mode. In what feels like no time at all, they have my hair curled in thick, fluffy waves and light makeup done, my lids washed in champagne shadow, and a perfect nude lip applied. Daphne hands me the earrings, and I slip them into my ears, before Marie brings me the dress.

After purchasing it, we’d gone to a lingerie store in Louisville, where I’d picked out something for my wedding night. I remember running my fingers over the lace and silk, wondering what Kian would think when he saw me in something that I’d picked out, especially for him. The other times we’ve been together, it’s been unplanned. Moments of passion that had nothing to do with carefully picked underwear or thinking ahead.Except for the last time.I shiver as I remember it—I have a feeling that Kian had been thinking for some time, before that, what he would do if he had reason to punish me.

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