Page 76 of His North Star
It would be a waste not to get some use out of it. If anything, just to take pictures for when I listed it online. Surely everyone would want to see the sweetheart neckline, satin gown with sheer, off-the-shoulder lace overlay on a model.
Bitterness with a dash of longing clanged in my stomach. I threw my clothes off, leaving a trail down the hallway. In the bathroom, I took an extra-long shower, as if I were still readying myself for my fiancé. I curled my hair, did my makeup exactly like the picture I’d saved online, and spritzed my favorite perfume on my wrists.
Bile shot up my throat when I unzipped the bag that held the dress. Sixteen hundred wasted dollars. I gulped, closing my eyes.
Whose terrible idea was this?
I released a stuttered breath. Opening my eyes, my fingers slid down the silky fabric that trumpeted mid-thigh. This dress had chosen me when I tried it on. My eyes had lit up, smile wide. If only it were the same way now. The lightness had evaporated. Adoration from Mom and the saleswoman was gone.
I slipped the dress off its hanger and shimmied it onto my body. Thankfully, it had a side zipper. It was a looser fit than I remembered. I held my hand in front of me as if holding flowers, and slowly stepped, just as I’d practiced, across my room to the mirror hanging on the back of my bedroom door. An involuntary gasp escaped my lips. Goosebumps rose up my arms. Despite the week I’d had, a stunning person stared back at me. The high color in my cheeks added the perfect contrast to the stark white of my dress. My loose curls were silky and smooth.
I snapped selfies that would highlight how gorgeous the gown was. After a few photos, I propped my phone up on my dresser. Pretending I’d hired a photographer to direct my poses, I turned my head over my shoulder, gaze down. I blew a kiss. Stood with hands on my hips. Faked a laugh. Any position I’d seen a model do, I recreated.
Desperate, party of one.
I went back to the couch, stopping to get ice cream on the way, and bingedFriends. Around nine-thirty, a loud knock reverberated throughout my apartment.
My pulse pounded in my ears. Who was at my door? No way would I answer in my dress. What explanation could I possibly give?
The doorbell rang.
“Go away,” I silently screamed.
A key rattled in the lock. I jumped up, heading to the door to close it on whoever dared to enter my apartment. But the hem of my dress was too long without heels on. I tripped on the fabric, cursing when I landed with my arms stretched out in front of me as if I were imitating the Superman pose.
“Maren?” Ty asked, confused.
I groaned.
“Hey,” he said.
I lifted a hand, offering a defeated wave, keeping my head down.
“What are you doing?” he asked slowly, his voice closer to my head.
“Nothing,” I muttered.
“Mmm. I see that.”
“Can I help you with something?”
His clothes rustled as he settled next to me on the floor. “Yes, actually you can.”
I rose up on my elbows and gazed into his concern-filled eyes. His usually bright green eyes were as dark as the pine trees outside.
“I need you to change into long pants and come with me.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“I know you don’t, but I’ve been planning this night for a while and I would have been here sooner, but I got tied up. You shouldn’t be alone right now. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
“I’m perfectly fine on my own,” I lied.
He knelt in front of me, cupping my face between his palms. “I know you are. Just, please, come with me.”
Going up on all fours, I leaned my weight into my heels so I could stand. My dress tangled behind my knees, trapping me. I huffed, pulling at the extra fabric wildly to free myself. Ty puffed out a laugh. He threaded his arms under my armpits, hoisting me up until we stood face to face.
He stared at me. “Please come with me?”
