Page 27 of Moonlight & Matrimony
“This is the one,” she says. “Trust me.”
Cara helps me into the dress, securing the corset laces at the back as I stare at the floor. “You are breathtaking, Ivy.” She unclips my hair, letting it fall down my back in loose waves.
I tilt my head to examine myself in the full-length mirror. A small smile plays at my lips, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. “It’s beautiful,” I say. “But it’s too much.”
“I’m gonna ask you a question,” Cara says, “and I want you to be honest with me —”
“Ok.” I take a moment to mentally prepare myself for an uncomfortable conversation, but before Cara can ask the lingering question, my phone vibrates on the bench. “Hold that thought.”
Unknown: Your little fuckboy can’t save you.
The text is accompanied by a photo of me and Paige parked outside the bridal shop, and my entire body stiffens. My hands start to shake, causing me to drop my phone to the dressing room floor.
“Is everything ok in there?” Paige asks from the other side of the curtain.
“I don’t think so. Maybe you should come in,” Cara says. “Ivy, take a deep breath for me, okay?”
I’m practically suffocating behind the laces of the corset bodice, and I can’t stop the uncontrollable sob that escapes as my hands tug at the dress.
“I think she’s having a panic attack.” I can’t make out who’s speaking — their voices are a distant hum and my vision is blurred.
“Get the dress off her.”
“Ivy, hold my hand, hun.”
Suddenly, I find myself being dragged to the bench, in just my underwear, my girls wrapping their arms around me from either side. A hand strokes over my hair and somebody is murmuring soothing words into my ears. Eventually, I’m able to get my body under control, and I see the worry etched on their faces.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, choking back a sob.
“Don’t apologize. Let’s just get you dressed and you can tell us what happened.”
I nod and silently stand to put on my yoga pants and t-shirt. When I turn back to my friends, they’re holding my phone in their hands, waiting for me to answer.
“Unlock it. The passcode is Rylin’s birthday.”
Paige taps in the code and her breath catches as a look of shock washes over her features. “That motherfucker! We need to tell the police.”
“We can’t prove it’s him. I just need to document everything for my next court date.”
“Alright.” Paige strokes her hand along my arm in a soothing gesture. “We’ll do that, but I think you need to tell Luca too.”
I absentmindedly pick at my thumbnail, not meeting their gazes as I brace myself for what comes next. “Why?”
“Because he’s trying to protect you from Austin, right? That’s what this whole impromptu marriage is about?”
“How did you…”
“I wasn’t born yesterday, Ivy Jo! This isn’t a romance novel. I’d recognize a marriage of convenience from a mile away. I still can’t believe you lied to me.”
“Ok. Ok. I’m sorry. In my defense, I told him you wouldn’t believe it.”
She shakes her head and huffs out a laugh. “He’s an idiot.”
“Hey, that’s my future husband you’re talking about.” Paige raises an eyebrow as she places the gown back on the hanger, handing it over to Cara.
“Let’s go pay for your dress and head over to the salon. I think a little pampering will do you some good. You can tell us the real story while we turn you into a blushing bride,” Cara says. “And before you argue with me, thisisthe dress. It’s perfect, Ivy.”
With a resigned sigh, I follow my girls out of the dressing room. I don’t protest when Paige pins me with a glare as she hands her credit card to the cashier. I don’t fight them when they refuse to let me pay for my mani pedi. And, when the time comes, I don’t even bother pulling out my wallet to pay for my hair and makeup. “Go with it, babe,” Paige says. “This is your day, and we’re under strict orders to spoil the shit out of you.”
