Chapter 2

The staff member's eyes went wide first. He pushed his glasses up, and his gaze bounced between my bridal shoes and my made-up face a few times before it settled on my face, as if he were checking whether I was serious.

"Ready-made…" He repeated the word, his voice thin. "Here, the ready-made ones are all… all the deceased."

"I know," I said.

He opened his mouth, closed it again, and seemed to be searching for the right words. Just then the side door of the hall pushed open, and a man in a black jacket walked in carrying a steaming glass of milk. He saw me, and his step halted.

"What's going on?" he asked the staff member, his voice low.

"This young lady says…" The man fumbled for the words. "Says she wants to hold a wedding here, and she's asking whether we have a ready-made groom."

The man raised an eyebrow. "A ready-made groom. Think I'll do?"

I looked at that familiar face.

Blake Matthews was my childhood friend, but because of the family's line of work, my parents never accepted the idea of me marrying him.

He'd kept at it, refusing to give up, offering himself to my family more than ten times, and still I chose someone else.

"Would you get married?" I asked.

"Depends who to," he said.

I lowered my head and smiled a little, then picked my phone up off the counter. Nathan's missed calls had already piled up to thirty-seven, the group chat had blown up, and my mother had sent more than a dozen voice messages. The last one was only three seconds long. I opened it and heard her sigh, then say, "What on earth are you doing?"

Under that post of Millie's, more than twenty comments had already come in from mutual friends. One asked, "Isn't that your best friend's wedding gown?" Someone answered with a laughing-behind-the-hand emoji, and another wrote, "So envious of a friendship like this, it's goals."

I closed the app, opened my contacts, scrolled to Nathan's name, and let my thumb hover over "Block" for a second before I pressed down.

The hall went quiet. Blake stood where he was, brushed the dust off his jacket, then held out his hand to me.

"So, when do I come for you?"

I looked at the hand he'd reached out, and I took it. "Five hours from now."

The phone in my pocket went completely silent. Nathan had probably finally noticed that red "Block" mark, and finally understood that some doors, once shut, could never be pushed open again.

I drove home, took the elevator up to the twenty-sixth floor, and out in the hallway I could already hear my family's voices. I pushed the door open, and in the living room three heads turned at once.

My mother was sitting on the arm of the sofa clutching half a cup of cold tea, her eyes rimmed red. My father stood in the doorway to the balcony, his lips moving before pressing shut again. Nathan stood in the middle of the room, his white suit crisp, his bow tie straight.

On the rug at his feet, Millie was taking selfies, wrapped in my wedding gown.

The air froze for three seconds. Millie was the first to lift her phone and wave it at me. "Bianca, you're back. Look at this lighting…"

Nathan cut her off.

"Bianca, you don't answer your phone, and now you finally come home. Millie's just trying the gown on. What's the rush? Didn't I explain last night's thing to you? Her job is a bridal-suite tester. So she slept a night in the wedding bed, so what? Don't be so petty."

My mother stood up from the sofa, tugged at my sleeve, and lowered her voice. "Bibi, what is going on with you? Why did you stay at a motel last night? What did he say to you?"

I didn't answer her. I walked to the edge of the rug and looked down at Millie. "Take it off."

Millie blinked twice and looked up at Nathan. Nathan immediately crouched to help her, undoing the back ties as he spoke. "Bianca, what's with the attitude? Millie just wanted to get a feel for the wedding today, so what? Over one gown, is it worth it?"

As Millie wriggled out of the gown, her hand "slipped," and the mass of white fabric dropped to the floor. She let out a little cry and bent to pick it up, but Nathan was faster, scooping it up, brushing off the dust, and holding it out to me.

"All right, here. The wedding's about to start. Hurry up and change, don't make things hard for Millie."

I took the crumpled gown.

Millie stood up in the slip underneath, sidled over to Nathan and hooked her arm through his, resting her chin on his shoulder and murmuring, "Nathan, don't be mean to her. I won't sit at the main table, okay? I'll sit with the bridesmaids. Bianca, don't be upset."

Nathan patted the back of her hand and looked up at me, his tone softening into a weary, coaxing note. "You hear that? She's the one backing down. And you? You didn't answer the phone last night, and today you pull a disappearing act. Look how worked up you've got your mom."

Beside me, my mother drew a deep breath. "Bibi, tell your mom the truth. Why did he send you off to a motel?"

The living room went quiet. Nathan's gaze rested on my face for two seconds, then his brow furrowed slightly. "That's enough, Bianca, stop making a scene. I'll have the makeup artist come touch you up right away. Go to the bedroom and put the gown on, the car's waiting downstairs, don't miss the lucky hour." He pulled out his phone to dial, his finger already pressing the screen.

I didn't take that mass of gown. I set it on the floor at my feet, my movements gentle as I bent to put it down.

"I'm not changing."

Nathan's finger froze above the screen. Millie lifted her face off his shoulder.

I straightened and looked at him. "The wedding goes ahead as planned. But the bride is me, and the groom isn't you."