The Boy on the Bridge

We’ll each say our vows, then he’ll clutch my waist, his greedy fingers digging into the delicate embroidery as he holds me close and kisses me for the first time as his wife.

Emotion clogs my throat. I almost can’t speak as I gaze at my own reflection.

“Are you okay?” the consultant asks, watching my face in the mirror.

I nod, but I still can’t speak.

“Wanna show Mom?”

I beam and nod again.

This time when I pick up the bottom of the gown and make my way out to the main floor, I don’t feel like I’m playing dress up. I feel strong and sure and excited.

I feel beautiful.

I step up on the raised platform and look in the mirror. I still can’t find any words, but I don’t need them. Mom takes one look at me in this dress and bursts into fresh tears.

This time I’m a little teary, too. I laugh at how stupid it is to cry over a dress, but it’s not the dress, it’s the feeling. It’s my wedding. I’m so excited to marry Hunter. I can’t believe I get to do this.

I turn around to show Mom. She had that reaction when my back was still to her and she was only seeing the front in the mirror.

“This is the dress,” I say when I finally trust myself to speak.

She nods, dabbing at her tears and then taking a picture of me in the dress to send to Zoey and Chloe for approval.

“Do you want to see it with the veil?” the consultant asks, smiling.

I nod, remembering I need to try the crown on. “Carlo, can you open the case, please? I need to make sure the crown looks okay with this dress.”

The consultant’s gaze flickers to me in surprise. I told her my fiancé’s family was lending me a piece of jewelry, but I didn’t say it was a crown.

She makes her way over to select a veil for me anyway, then comes back to style me. Carlo is on standby with the crown, but when the consultant first tries to take it, he mean mugs her. Reluctantly, he hands it over when she tries a second time, and the consultant positions it on my head.

Wow. That’s… a crown. On my head. I know it’s only ceremonial, but it’s still pretty wild.

I thought he was done, but then Carlo takes out a matching pair of diamond and pearl drop earrings. “It’s a set,” he informs me.

“Oh, okay,” I say, taking them and carefully putting them in my ears.

“This is lovely,” the consultant murmurs, looking me over. “Now, you have to be careful with both a veil and a tiara, it can be pretty easy to get overwhelmed. I don’t know if you have your mind made up about your hair, but I would leave it down and just pull some back like this.” She pulls some bobby pins out of her pocket and makes quick work of making my hair look really pretty, then she attaches the veil and settles it around me.

I feel a little breathless looking in the mirror at my own reflection. My heart begins to race and I can’t stop smiling.

That’s how I’ll look when I marry Hunter.

Mom chimes in, telling me my friend texted me back. “Chloe gasped and said, ‘That’s so pretty! She should say yes to that dress.’ Zoey concurs, she thinks you look absolutely amazing in it.”

I grin, glancing at Mom in the mirror. “You can tell Chloe I am definitely saying yes to this dress.”

___

Since we’re in New York for my bridal appointment, Hunter met up with one of his New York friends about some business venture they’ve been discussing.

He texted me on my way back from the bridal store that his meeting was running a little late, but he’d be back as soon as he could—and he’d be immensely pleased to find me naked when he got there.

Even though I know nobody can see me on this level when we’re facing Central Park, I’m still not going to walk around the hotel room completely naked. I take off my clothes and change into one of the white fluffy bathrobes the hotel provided for us.

We’re staying at the same place we stayed for our first trip to New York together when we came to the charity ball, but this is far from our first trip.

Hunter was right about Caleb Grant keeping his secret, but the unspoken price for his silence was Hunter’s inclusion into his social circle, his “friendship,” if Caleb is capable of such a thing.

Hunter doesn’t seem to mind it. His whole view of it is a rather blasé, “This is just how these things work,” but I think lightly blackmailing someone into friendship is a bit odd.

Then again, I got lightly blackmailed into a relationship with the man I’m ecstatic to marry, so maybe that’s a bit of a double standard.