Page 50 of Gracefully Yours

Gabbi frowned, as if realizing I hadn’t actually paid attention to anything she’d just said. “There are a few different options we can do, either renting a big house and we’d all have our own room, or there’s a cute little lodge with individual cabins.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Then we’d all have privacy.”

“Gabs!” I almost choked on my hot chocolate. Of course, she thought we were in an actual relationship, which meant all the intimate, physical aspects as well. Which, I supposed, wehaddone, even if everything else was a lie.Was I the worst friend?I hadn’t even admitted that I’d slept with him during Angelina’s wedding. It felt too personal to share that moment with anyone. Even just the thought of that kiss last week sent butterflies through my stomach, my body craving his touch.

“We haven’t, um…”

Gabbi raised an eyebrow. “But you… live together?”

My cheeks pinked. “Yeah.” It wasn’t like I could deny it when they’d all just been over yesterday. They didn’t know I was occupying the guest room. I’d slept in his arms last night, and for all they knew, that was my reality.

Luckily, Noelle and Angelina came in and saved me from the situation.

“What are we looking at?” Angelina asked, sitting down next to Gabbi and staring at the computer.

“Options for the ski weekend to Bend,” Gabbi answered as Ang took the laptop and started going through the different tabs.

“Ooh, this one has a big hot tub on the deck outside that we could probably all fit in, and the kitchen isenormous.” She flipped through the rest of the details before handing the computer over to Noelle. “That one’s my vote. And it has four bedrooms with queen-sized beds, so we’ll all have our own room.”

Gabbi looked at me, knowing our conversation from earlier had gotten cut off. I just gave her a nod of confirmation. What else could I say?

I can’t sleep with my future husband—again—because I’m terrified that sex is going to ruin everything?

Why had I said yes? In the first place? Ugh. I hated I felt desperate enough to marry my best friend. Sure, he was handsome, and charming, and I’d never found another person who I felt comfortable enough in their presence to want to spend the rest of my life with, but…

“Char?”

“What?” I looked up.

“Is that good with you?” Noelle asked. “I think we should book this place. It doesn’t have the privacy of individual cabins, but the living spaces are nice, and the balcony has a fantastic view of the mountains.”

“Plus the hot tub.” Angelina added.

Noelle smirked. “Yes. And there’s that.”

“Yeah. Sure. Sounds good,” I agreed, absentmindedly. I needed to get out of my funk.

Everything was going to be fine. I needed to stop second-guessing myself the way I had for years. Sometimes it felt like I’d been so terrified of failure that I hadn’t ever reached my full potential. Sure, I loved making dresses, but it was still a side hustle. I loved teaching dance, but was itenough?

What was the dream that would make me feel like my soul wasalive?Because when I closed my eyes, the only thing I desired wasn’t a job or a pair of ballet slippers.

Giving them the best smile I could muster, I tried to ignore the feeling in my stomach that everything was about to change.

I just hoped it wouldn’t be for the worst.

* * *

Glitter coveredthe floor of my sewing room, as well as yards and yards of satin and lace, but I was determined to finish in time. To wearmydress on my wedding day—my dream dress, exactly how I’d pictured it.

Well, mostly, considering how much I had left to do, and how the wedding was getting closer by the day.

Two weeks had passed since I’d finally moved in with Daniel. Which meant we had around a month until the wedding, and there was so much left to do. Sure, we’d sent out invitations, and I’d booked a photographer and found a florist, but my to-do list felt like it was a mile long.

We were supposed to go cake tasting at my favorite local bakery tonight, even though I was pretty sure I already knew what I wanted. A part of me just wanted to make sure it was whathewanted, too. Daniel had been letting me making almost all the decisions, giving me a reassuring smile and telling me it was “whatever I wanted.”

Which was great, but… what I really wanted was for us to plan our dream wedding together. Not just my dream wedding. Because this was about us, wasn’t it?

I sighed, pinning another layer of fabric together, when a knock sounded on the door.

Shit. Was it still bad luck to see the dress before the wedding when it wasn’t a genuine marriage? I had a split second to decide thatyes;it was. I was treating this like a real wedding, after all. We were pulling out all the stops.

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