Page 141 of The Loathing

I nod. I don’t want to speak because she will hear the crack in my voice and instantly know I am lying.

She rolls her lips and I know she knows.

She turns to Arabella who is trembling and she pulls her in for a loving hug.

“It’s okay, we’re all okay,” my mothers gentle voice soothes as she strokes the top of Arabella’s hair.

“Now that we are all reacquainted, I will let you try your dress on,” Wolfe gives a sharp nod before walking out of the shop and slamming the door behind him.

Silence echoes loudly in the room and we wait until we know he has gone.

“Oh my god,” I whisper, suddenly I feel breathless and my chest hurts.

“I’m just glad you’re both okay,” my mother’s hands come up to her mouth.

“He is psycho. I don’t get him…” looking over my shoulder quickly to make sure he isn’t coming back, “one minute he is kind and attentive… the next…”

“He is a fucking psycho through and through. Definition of a narcissist.”

“Does father know you’re both here?” my eyes volley between them but she just shakes her head from side to side.

“Okay,” I rub my lips together. I go to step forward when I feel Titus’ fingers wrap round my wrist and pull me towards him.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I had no idea about any of this,” the apprehension is evident in his voice.

“I will be,” a soft smile masks my face but it soon slips when it’s time for me to go and try my dress on. An older lady walks out and looks me up and down. She has short, brown, bobbed hair. I would say late fifties maybe. Impeccably dressed and obviously not very fond of me by the way her eyes rake up and down my body all whilst looking down her nose.

“The dress your fiancé picked for you is just through here,” she holds her hand out, showing us the way down a light hallway.

The boutique is very small, but it’s beautiful. And honestly, this is the kind of shop I would have come to get my wedding dress. Obviously not this actual one because it’s just been put up for me. I feel like anything to do with weddings has been tarnished by Wolfe.

The store assistant stops in front of an ivory silk dress bag.

“Are you ready to see your dress that your fiancé has chosen for you?” her thin lips curl into a smile but it seems forced.

I nod, looking over my shoulder and Titus is just staring ahead.

This is torture.

I feel heartbroken at what is about to happen, so I know he is feeling it too.

She unzips the bag slowly and my eyes bug out of my head.

It is not my style at all, and I can’t stop the disappointment that surges through me like a lightning bolt.

I watch as she lifts it from the bag and hangs it on a hook to the left of me.

The bodice is mesh with boned structure, like a corset. A bra looks as if it’s been sewn into the top half of the dress. It’s finished off with sewn thick, white leaves that climb the bones of the corset like twisting vines.

A tulle skirt comes straight off the short, bodied corset and fans into an A-line skirt with a slit so high it’s going to be up to my upper thigh.

“Isn’t it just stunning?” she claps her hands together, her head tilting to the side.

“I wouldn’t use the word stunning.”

She spins quickly, glaring at me then looks me up and down in pure disgust.

“Well, your husband to be picked it out and was very insistent on you wearing it,” she tuts, rolling her eyes in the back of her over worked face.

---