Page 60 of Resisting You
Chapter 21
Rosa
“I can’t breathe in this thing.”
I pressed my palms against the bone corset that Kristen and my mother forced me to put on as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Nothing about this dress spoke to me. Looked like me. Or represented me in any way, shape, or form.
It was entirely too tight, cinching my waist. The strapless sweetheart neckline dipped far too low for my liking and Kristen had put me in a push up bra that should be used as a torture device. My boobs were close to my chin and one twist in the wrong direction could easily cause a wardrobe malfunction that would definitely get me and Noah on the cover of some magazines.
In the worst possible way.
“Well, maybe itisa bit much,” Kristen said, tugging on the strings at the back. “We could loosen it a little?”
“Absolutely not,” Mama argued. “It’s for one photo shoot. She can survive it and god forbid skip a lunch or two beforehand.”
The words stabbed in my chest. Words I’d heard so many times growing up. And after all this time, they still hurt.
My heels wobbled on top of the platform where I was surrounded by mirrors. This was the problem with weddings. You ended up doing things, buying dresses, choosing flowers, food, etc to solely appease the people around you. When the two people that should matter the most on the big day are simply ignored.
It didn't matter that this dress was something I wouldneverpick for myself in a million years. It didn't matter that I didn't feel comfortable in it. It was what my mother wanted for me and it was what Kristen envisioned in a photo on the cover of People magazine. End of story.
My eyes wandered over to the corner where a discarded dress hung on a rolling rack. It was as if someone had tried it on, didn't like it, and tossed it aside, forgotten. It was simple and elegant, with just the smallest bit of lace ruching around the waist area. The material also looked soft and flowy, perfect for dancing the night away with my arms around Noah, head resting on his shoulder.
I pointed across the room at it. "Could I try that one on?”
My mother scrunched her nose in distaste. “That one? It looks wrinkled.”
“It’s supposed to. I think that's the design,” I said.
Kristen tilted her head, then crossed to the dress, grabbing it off the rack and held it up to examine it. “It’s not the dress I would pick for you, but there is something very relatable about it. And that tends to poll well with fans.”
Polls. Fans. Ah yes. Once again, it wasn’t enough that it was what I liked. It was more important to consider how it would make me appear to everyone else.
Mama snorted, rolling her eyes. “Noah's fans will be looking for every reason to hate Rosa. Whether she wears Vera Wang or David’s Bridal, she'll either be hated for being too glamorous ornot good enough for him.” Mama shot me a pointed look. “Or more likely,both.”
This very situation was exactly everything I had tried to avoid since the day I left California. It was everything I thought I was leaving behind and walking away from. Everything I thought I'd been avoiding in life, in a partner, and in my career. Now, I was walking right back into it… and doing so willingly.
The front door chimed, tearing me out of my spiraling thoughts. My mother, Kristen, and the saleswoman all whipped around shouting at once, “We’re closed!”
But it wasn't a hopeful bride walking in off the street. It was Noah.
Mama and the saleswoman, Samantha, shrieked at him.
“No! You can’t see her in this,” Samantha yelled as she tried to usher Noah back out the front door. My mother ran in front of me, diving on top of me like I was a bomb she was trying to shield from exploding. As if her tiny frame could cover the dress from Noah’s view.
Noah startled, nearly falling back into a mannequin display of bridesmaids at their screams. “We were supposed to meet for lunch next door ten minutes ago,” he said, confused. “What’s the big deal?”
“You can’t see the bride in her dress before the wedding!” Samantha reiterated.
Noah caught my gaze from across the room to which I rolled my eyes in response with a shrug. “But …we’re already married,” he said.
Wait.Wait. If he sees me in this dress, that means I don’t have to wear it.
“It’stradition, babe.” Then I click my tongue in fake frustration. “Damn. I guess this isn’t the dress for me, afterall, huh, Mama? If Noah has seen me in it already, then it’s cursed.”
Mama took a step back from me, the disappointment clouding her features. “What a shame,” she sighed.
Across the room, Noah and I shared a quiet smile and I winked at him while beside me, Kristen cocked a brow, clearly onto me. I merely gave her a little shrug. I might as well use every piece of this to my full advantage, right?
