Page 4 of Fauxmance

Enough, I thought, pulling myself together. Sean doesn't deserve your tears. Be strong, Magnolia. Don't let the bad blind you to the good.

This was my moment, I reminded myself.

Dress rehearsal was tonight, and the wedding was tomorrow, so there was still some time to find an escort.

And besides, did I really want to be attached to Sean now that I knew what a total scumbag he was?

Hell no.

Lifting my chin, shoulders back, I hugged my books to my chest and walked out to my car. It was only a five-minute drive to my house. Honeycomb was a small town. It didn't take that long to get anywhere within the city limits. I got home before my mom, so I didn't have to explain my splotchy cheeks or the redness in my eyes. Despite my best intentions, the little traitorous tears had come again as I thought over the years I'd spent with Sean. He'd been so sweet. Our relationship had seen me through a lot of thecraptimes in my life. The first Christmas after my dad died, Sean was there. The summer I broke my leg and spent six weeks in a cast, we'd talked on the phone nearly every day (mostly about him, but still). When my sister left for college, he'd been my shoulder to cry on. I'd thought it was love. I thought we might belike my parents, who were the reason I believed in true love. And now, just like that, we were done. Over. If this were a movie, I'd have to return his letterman jacket. But I'd never been able to fit into Sean's clothes. He had a long, lanky build. My bust was too big for any of his shirts—and don't even get me started on the pants. My curvy booty and hips would've annihilated his khakis.

I shook my head.

No more thinking about Sean. My mind needed a break. I had to find my happy place, and I knew just where to look.

As I entered my bedroom and closed the door, there, hanging in a garment bag, was the one thing I knew could make me smile. My fingers clasped the zipper and carefully lowered it. The lavender material still glowed like it did the first time I'd tried it on. The satin and lace, silky smooth in some places, beaded in others, was like touching heaven. This was the dress. My bridesmaid's gown. The one my mother, sister and I had picked out just for me. It had been a perfect day when we found the dress, full of such promise and wonder. I wanted that feeling back now.

I'd forced myself not to try on the dress again, wanting it to feel fresh and new for the wedding.

But I'd just been dumped by my boyfriend on the eve of what was supposed to be one of the best nights of my life.

I deserved a little happy.

After stripping down, I pulled the dress over my head. It was just as magical as that day at the shop. The lavender material caressed my skin on the way down, feeling like soft snowflakes. Once my head emerged, and the dress was resting on my hips, I sighed in contentment. That was the secret of a good dress, Mom always said. It makes you feel something.

And my bridesmaid's dress had done just that.

I'd felt glorious as I pulled it on. Beautiful as I looked at myself in the mirror. And…

Oh God.

Why wasn't the zipper going up?

And had my boobs always looked that big?

Holy crap, I was busting out. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening. There was no way I'd gained weight—unless the stress of talking to Sean just now added a few pounds. Which it totally could've. Ugh, I so wish I'd slapped him when I had the chance.

Or maybe it was those cookies I ate last night? But it had only been two innocent-looking sugar cookies, for goodness sakes! No matter how hard I tried to suck in, the zipper wouldn't go up. I heard the door slam and quickly called for help.

"Mom!" I said. "Mom, hurry! I need you!"

She came bursting through the door, looking wild-eyed. "What? What is it, honey?" she said.

I held up my hands. "It won't zip. I don't know what's wrong, but it just won't close."

"My dear Magnolia." Mom sighed as she came over to stand behind me. "You nearly gaveme a heart attack, girl! I thought there was an intruder. I was ready to kick some ass."

"Sorry, sorry," I said, meaning it. "But could you help? Please? I need this dress for the wedding tomorrow."

"What wedding?" she said innocently, and when I threw her a look she laughed out loud. "Ah, I'm just kidding. Let me get this zipper. You probably just couldn't get a good enough grip to do it by yourself."

"You think that's it?"

"Of course, honey. It's difficult to reach."

But even as Mom tried, the zipper reached a point where it wouldn't go up any further.

"Hmm," she said.

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