Page 74 of How to Ruin a Wedding

I’ve lost count after seventeen dresses, and automatically just swap my outfit and head back out. Another dud. Ashley and I are the only ones still on the hunt for the perfect dress, until an off-the-shoulder lightweight gown for her gets Valerie’s approval, and she forces me to try on a spaghetti-strapped number.

My arms ache as I lift, this time needing assistance from Mimi to remove the previous dress, and she gives me a thumbs-up when I pull down the newest option.

I grip her arm as I leave the fitting room. “Pray for me,” I say, causing her to laugh.

When I make my reveal, Valerie’s thin brows pull together. She joins me on the stage, observing me, circling me, tapping her lips. “Stand up straight,” she orders.

I do as she says, and she moves back to get a full-length view. “Can you spin?”

I do.

“Slower.”

I do.

She hums, and it reminds me of how Anders does the same, and both of them sound so musical when they do.

“I love it,” Valerie says.

She barely gets the words out before I say, “Thank God.”

She laughs, then slaps my shoulder. “That’s it, girlies, we’ve all got our dresses.”

Some of the girls do a cheer, and I watch Olive smile but shift away from Erin after she whispers something in her ear.

Mimi appears, clapping her hands. “Shall I take a commemorative photo?”

All the girls remain in their dresses for it, and line up on the stage. I try to hang back, since I’m not officially in the party, and Valerie yanks me up with her. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she says. “It’s just a photo.”

After we take a few shots before we all change back into our clothes, one of the girls says, “Wait, we haven’t seen you in your dress.”

Valerie sweeps her hair behind her. She, Bethany, and Olive did the wedding dress shopping privately. Valerie showed me a picture of every angle of her dress when we were drunk at the park.

“Can we see you try it on?” Jennifer asks.

Valerie pretends to act modest and shy as the girls start to chant. “See the dress! See the dress!” At last she gives in, and Mimi takes her to the larger, single, bridal changing room.

We all rush to the fitting rooms to remove our clothes. I’m too late, and all the rooms are taken, so I pace. Then I realize Olive isn’t with me.

I head out back to the main room and find her with Erin.

“Is this why you’ve been ignoring my calls?” Erin pokes at Olive’s shoulder.

Olive, my precious girl, has her head facing the floor as she says, “I’ve just been busy.”

Erin snorts. “Right, it isn’t because you’ve got even fatter? Please, that’s why you have to wear this gross dress. But, whatever, I’ll forgive you for ignoring me if you take Ashley and me with you to Valerie’s salon. My stupid aunt still hasn’t got an invite, and we want to cut our hair there.”

My jaw drops. I move forward, but someone—Jennifer—grabs my shoulder and says, “Room is free if you want it.”

When I turn back to the girls, Erin is smiling sweetly at us, while Olive, head still down, hurries to the fitting room. As she goes, all I can think isMy baby, and the visceral, all-consuming protectiveness that floods me so quickly almost takes me off my feet.

I breathe through my nose as I follow after Olive, but she shuts herself in a room. As soon as the next one opens, I yank off the dress so fast I rip out some of my hair. Once I’m out, one of the girls grabs my arm and rushes me back to the room. She joins all the girls on the couches. Erin has placed herself between her aunt and Olive.

Valerie stands on the stage, and her beauty is so staggering, I nearly forget that I’m angry. It’s more modest in person, the sleeveless number tight across her waist, then cascading down her length in tiny ripples. The back is low and accentuates her muscles there.

Aside from my sister, she is the most beautiful bride I have ever seen.

I open my mouth to say so when one of the girls asks, “That’s what you’re wearing? Are you pranking us?”