Chapter 3 - The Wedding Dress Nobody Would See|
The wedding dress hung in Claire's childhood bedroom like a ghost.
Ivory silk.
A delicate square neckline.
Tiny pearl buttons down the back.
She had chosen it on a bright Tuesday afternoon eight months earlier, with her mother crying beside the fitting-room mirror.
At the time, Claire believed she was finally going to become Adrian's wife.
Now the dress hung from the closet door, still covered in its protective garment bag.
Diane stood in the doorway.
"You don't have to look at it."
Claire nodded.
"I know."
"Do you want me to put it away?"
"Not yet."
Her mother stepped inside.
Claire sat on the edge of the bed.
"I keep thinking about how excited I was."
Diane sat beside her.
"That's normal."
"I wasn't excited about the wedding itself."
"I know."
"I wanted Sunday morning."
Diane looked at her.
Claire gave a sad smile.
"I wanted to wake up beside my husband and make breakfast. I wanted ordinary things. Grocery shopping. Arguments about paint colors. A dog that sheds all over the furniture."
Her voice broke.
"I wanted to stop feeling like I had to schedule being loved."
Diane wrapped an arm around her.
They sat quietly for a while.
Then Claire's phone buzzed.
Adrian.
Again.
She didn't answer.
Her mother glanced at the screen.
"How many times has he called?"
"Eleven."
"Do you want to talk to him?"
Claire looked down.
"No."
The answer surprised her.
For four years, she had wanted Adrian to call.
She'd checked her phone during birthdays, dinners, vacations, and evenings when he'd promised to be home.
Now he was calling constantly.
And she wanted silence.
The following morning, Claire drove to the bridal boutique.
She had an appointment to discuss whether the dress could be returned, altered for resale, or donated.
The owner, Margaret Ellis, greeted her gently.
"Oh, Claire."
Claire managed a smile.
"I suppose you heard."
Margaret nodded.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
But the words felt strange.
It wasn't okay.
Not yet.
Margaret led her into the private fitting room.
The dress was waiting on a mannequin.
Claire stared.
It was beautiful.
Almost painfully so.
Margaret touched her arm.
"You know, I've been doing this for twenty-eight years."
Claire nodded.
"And I've learned something."
"What?"
"A wedding dress should belong to a woman who's excited about her future, not one who's trying to convince a man to show up for it."
Claire's eyes filled.
Margaret smiled sadly.
"You deserve to wear something beautiful for a reason that makes you happy."
Claire looked at the dress.
Then she took a slow breath.
"Can you help me sell it?"
"Of course."
"And if it sells, I'd like part of the proceeds to go to the women's shelter downtown."
Margaret nodded.
"That's a lovely idea."
Claire smiled faintly.
Then she noticed a woman standing near the boutique entrance.
Tall.
Beautiful.
Dark hair pulled into a sleek bun.
An expensive cream coat.
Claire recognized her immediately.
Natalie Pierce.
Adrian's director of corporate strategy.
The woman whose name appeared in his calendar almost as often as Zurich.
Natalie approached.
"Claire."
Claire stiffened.
"Natalie."
"I heard about the wedding."
"Apparently everyone has."
Natalie hesitated.
"Adrian's been trying to reach you."
Claire looked at her.
"Then he can keep trying."
Natalie folded her arms.
"He's under enormous pressure."
Something inside Claire went cold.
There it was.
The same explanation.
Different mouth.
"I'm sure he is."
"Zurich is a critical acquisition."
"I know."
"If the deal falls apart, the consequences could be serious."
Claire stared at her.
"Natalie, are you here to buy a wedding dress or explain my former fiancé's schedule?"
Natalie's expression tightened.
"I'm trying to help."
"Then help him understand that postponing a wedding four times isn't a scheduling problem."
Silence.
Natalie looked toward the dress.
"It's beautiful."
"Yes."
"You must be disappointed."
Claire laughed once.
"That's one word for it."
Natalie looked at her.
Then she said something strange.
"Adrian really does care about you."
Claire studied her.
"You sound very certain."
"I work with him every day."
"Exactly."
Natalie went still.
Claire continued.
"You see the man who stays late because he's ambitious. I see the man who doesn't come home because everything else matters more."
Natalie looked away.
For a moment, Claire thought she saw guilt.
Then Natalie straightened.
"He's going to Zurich Thursday."
Claire nodded.
"I know."
"He asked me to accompany him."
Claire stared.
"Of course he did."
Natalie frowned.
"Claire—"
"No. It's perfect."
She smiled sadly.
"At least someone gets to spend Thursday night with him."
Natalie's face reddened.
"That's not what this is."
Claire picked up her handbag.
"Then you don't need to explain it."
She walked past her.
Outside, sunlight washed across the sidewalk.
Claire took a deep breath.
Then her phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph.
Adrian and Natalie standing together in a hotel lobby.
The timestamp was from the previous month.
The location was Geneva.
Claire stared.
Adrian had told her he was in London that weekend.
The message beneath the photograph read:
You should ask your fiancé why he lied about where he spent your anniversary.
May you like
Claire's hands began trembling.
For the first time since leaving him, she wondered whether work wasn't the only thing Adrian had chosen over her.
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