Page 90 of Love Me Reckless

“Sawyer, it’s beautiful!”

“Gotta make your mark,” he says.

I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him. “Thank you.”

He holds me gently, his cedar scent filling my senses. I know I should let go, but I feel like I’m going to unravel if I do.

He strokes down my hair. “I’ll always be here for you,” he says.

A sob catches in my throat. I hold him tighter because this sounds like goodbye.

The restof the holidays pass in a blur of family events and spending time with Grams, but the night before my final wedding dress fitting, my turbulent thoughts come rushing back to the surface.

Birch texts me a message from Cabo with a picture of the sunset from the vacation house he and his bachelor party rented. He’s been working a lot since the holidays, so I’ve barely seen him.

I reply with a heart. It’s sweet of himto think of me.

I style my hair in long waves and put on makeup to hide how pale I look. Wasn’t it just yesterday I sat in a hot tub with an intriguing stranger under a summer sky bright with stars? A night that felt ripe with possibilities, and promise.

I tell myself that my life can still hold promise. I will persevere, just like I always do.

What I want and what is possible are very different.

You have everything you need to change that, princess.

At the village bridal boutique, Mom and Grandma and I are ushered inside. Along one side is a rack of white gowns in various styles, from modern to classic, with tule, lace, and satin in a hundred different combinations. I know because I tried at least half of them.

“Would you ladies care for tea while we prepare for the viewing?”

I fight my annoyance. Viewing? This makes me feel like a piece of artwork.

“Yes, please,” Mom says. She settles into one of the Victorian-style chairs, which practically swallows her. Has she eaten today?

Grams is busy looking around the shop. There are displays for shoes, veils, stockings, even undergarments.

“Kirilee,” the saleswoman says in a sweet voice that should not irritate me. “Ready?”

I inhale a full breath for courage, then follow her into the fitting room area.

My dress is a backless mermaid in creamy ivory satin, with a plunging neckline and a shaped train overlaid with lace tulle. It looks garish against the candy pink walls of the dressing room but I force that thought aside.

“All right,” the saleswoman says brightly. “Let’s get you undressed and I’ll help with assembling.”

Again, her choice of words should not make me want to breathe fire.

Focus on gratitude. So many people would envy me right now. I’m about to step into a beautiful dress made just for me, in preparation for a wedding that will afford me every privilege I could askfor and that will preserve my family’s legacy for generations to come.

I remove my clothes and fold them neatly on the little stool. I can’t look at my naked self. The lights are too bright in here. The air too crisp. My skin turns to gooseflesh. I feel exposed and awkward. Ugly.

“Okay,” I say to the saleswoman.

She slips into my dressing room and eases the dress from the hangar. Though I’m naked except for my underwear, she stays focused on her task, thankfully keeping this professional. But when I extend my arm to balance so I can step into the dress, she sucks in a gasp. Her eyes are fixed on my tattoo.

My skin has healed, and the design is vivid and boldly beautiful. I love it more each day.

“Oh my,” the saleswoman says, blinking. Like she isn’t sure it’s real. She gives me an apprehensive glance. “That’s… new.”

I slide my arms into the sleeves and lift the satin bodice into place.

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