I wish I could walk over and give her a hug, but I don’t want her to cry on the dress.
Pregnant Mom is adorable.
She sends Zoey the picture and I turn around to look in the mirror again. The consultant and I discuss the things I like and don’t like about it, then Mom tells me Zoey texted back.
“Chloe says ‘that is definitely the one’ and Zoey says that while she thinks it’s gorgeous, she still wants to see the one you sent her from the website.”
I smile. I know Zoey said she and Chloe were binge-watching episodes of Say Yes to the Dress in preparation for today, so I’m not surprised Chloe was so easily won over.
“This one is pretty,” I agree, glancing at the consultant. “I don’t think it’s the one, though. I don’t feel very princessy.”
“Okay.” She nods. “Let’s get you in a ballgown, then.”
She hauls me back to the dressing room, but she still doesn’t put me in the dress I’m sure I’ll like. Instead, she puts me in a tulle ballgown with beaded lace. It’s still not what I want, but at least this one isn’t strapless.
The back is gorgeous. The front is just okay, but it has a very sexy back, sheer with bits of beaded lace and a row of pearl buttons.
“This isn’t it, but can you take a picture for me, Mom? I want to send Hunter a tease.”
Mom gasps. “He can’t see you in the dress!”
“This isn’t the dress,” I assure her. “He’ll like my back in this one. Just take the picture, please.”
She does, then the consultant hauls me back to the dressing room.
“All right. I know, I know, you love the Eve of Milady dress, but while we were out there I spotted this gorgeous pink ballgown. You said you were open to pink… can I grab it?”
I shrug, sitting down on the chair and crossing my legs. “Go for it.”
The next gown she puts me in is very pretty, and much closer to what I’m looking for. The pink color would go with my wedding colors very well, but looking at it in the mirror, I’m not sure it will match the crown.
There were two crowns to pick from, one with pink stones and one with pearl. I thought the diamond and pearl would be easier to match to a wedding dress, so that’s the one in the case.
I can’t change my mind about the crown now. The grumpy guard is already here. I can’t send him back to exchange it for the other one.
“I’m afraid to even send this one to Zoey. It’s princess pink and Chloe’s going to lose her shit over it,” Mom says as she snaps a picture of me.
“Yes. She loves the princess gowns, and this is so princessy,” I agree, looking down at the lovely layers of tulle. “Very light, too. I like this one a lot.”
“Maybe if you don’t get it for your wedding, you should get it for the Christmas ball,” Mom suggests.
“Pink for a Christmas ball?” I shake my head, glancing at myself in the mirror again. “No. I think it’s a bit much, anyway. I know Cinderella makes you think enormous ballgowns are in fashion at balls, but this would probably be overkill.”
“What’s the point of being a princess if you don’t get to wear big ballgowns?” Mom asks.
“A question we must all ask ourselves.” I look at the consultant. “I think this is really pretty, but…” I’m about to tell her I want to change, but then I find myself looking in the mirror again.
“It can be a maybe,” she suggests. “Let’s try on the one you’ve had your eye on now, see which one you like better.”
She walks me back to the dressing room and gets me out of the pink dress.
Finally, I get to try on the one I walked in expecting to love.
I wasn’t nervous trying on any of the other dresses, but I actually do feel a little excited as she brings this one over.
It’s a stunning gown with hand beaded appliqués and a big tulle skirt. It has these pretty bow straps that are mostly sheer, very delicate and beautiful. I fell in love with it the moment I saw it online, and, well… once I fall in love with something, I tend to stick with it.
My tummy flutters as she helps me into the big, beautiful gown.
I’ve imagined myself in this gown dozens of times.
I’ve imagined the gorgeous chapel train dragging behind me as I clutch my bouquet and walk down the aisle toward Hunter. Ray is giving me away, so I can envision him ceremonially offering me to Hunter, see him claim my hand, the soft fabric of my gown swaying as I move to stand across from him, but it’s my face he can’t look away from. His gaze is locked on mine, his brown eyes warm and glinting with affection.