Page 143 of The Loathing

“Keep your eyes closed Titus, or actually, face the wall. You don’t have the right to look at her.”

“Xavier!” she shouts, and I sigh, puffing out my cheeks.

“Titus you’re fine, do not face the wall!” I call out as I drop the wedding dress to the floor and step into it.

“Don’t listen to her, face the fucking wall.” He barks out.

I ignore the dysfunctional chaos that is currently unfolding outside the changing room and my mind flits to Titus and suddenly I am nervous about him seeing me in a wedding dress.

Slipping the straps up my arms, I brush my hands down across the bodice before inhaling deeply. I deny myself to look at my reflection, I don’t want to see what I’ll be wearing to end my life as I know it. The life that I want is one that dreams are made of. The life I am going into is a living nightmare full of darkness.

Pulling back the curtain I step out onto the floor and the loud voices suddenly lower to complete silence.

“Well,” I just about manage as my eyes move slowly until they land on Titus and I watch as he swallows hard, his eyes fixated on me.

“It’s a pretty dress,” my mother tilts her head to the side and I know she doesn’t like it but that’s okay. Because neither do I.

“Is it comfortable?” Arabella asks as she looks at the boned corset.

“Not overly, but it’s fine, I’ll get over it… or maybe break a rib or two,” I shrug my shoulders up as I look down at the dress.

“What is that?” my father points to the large slit in the dress that sits just under my groin.

“That’s a skirt slit,” my head rolls up and I plaster a huge, closed lip smile over my face.

“Over my dead body,” he roars and storms towards the snobby woman, looking down at her and I swear he is going to explode.

“Get that fucking slit stitched up otherwise she isn’t wearing it,” he grits out, his eyes bugging out his head and I can see how fast his shoulders are rising and falling.

“Mr Knight requested that no changes are to be made,” she shakes her head softly, lifting her chin up and looking down her pointy nose.

“I don’t give two fucks what Mr Knight requested, I, me, hello… me,” he stabs himself in the chest with his finger. “I am requesting that you sew the fucking slit up or there will be no wedding. It’s that simple. So, you call little Wolfie and tell him that from me. If he has a fucking problem, then he will call me. Get it done,” he snaps and turns to face me, his eyes roaming up and down my body.

“Awful,” he rolls his lips and inhales heavily. “Get undressed, we’re going for lunch. Fuck Wolfe.”

“Xavier,” Titus pipes up and my father slowly turns to face him.

“What?”

“I think we should get Amora home,” he nods gently to my father as if they both know something I don’t.

They stare each other down for a few minutes before my father steps back. “Fine, we will go back to the house for food.”

Titus nods and walks towards the door.

“I’ll help you out,” my mother states and Arabella follows.

Stepping back into the dressing room, I just stand and let them undress me.

And suddenly, I feel nothing but numbness.

* * *

The ride home was quiet. It was just me and Titus, but no words had been exchanged. I wanted to ask him if he was okay, but I felt I lost that right. I saw the utter heartbreak on his face when he saw me stood in that wedding dress. Realisation finally sunk in that this was nearing the end. There was no happily ever after for us.

Pulling into the carport, I open the door before Titus has even put the handbrake on.

“Amora,” I hear him, but I ignore him like he has ignored me for the last half an hour.

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