“Doesn’t she look beautiful?” the employee asks, her voice hushed. Downright reverent. “The gown is absolutely gorgeous.”
“So is the bride-to-be,” Caroline announces as she rises to her feet and comes to stand beside me, our gazes meeting in the mirror. “Perry will swallow his tongue when he sees you walk down that aisle.”
“I don’t know about that,” I start but Caroline shakes her head, silencing me.
“He will.” She presses her cold fingers into the center of my bare back and I stand up straighter. “He knows.”
He knows…what?
“That he’s a very lucky man,” Caroline finishes. “Having a beautiful wife such as you.”
My heart shrivels at her words. She sounds exactly like my mother. They both only care about my looks. How I’ll appear. What my family’s social status will do for theirs.
This entire moment is a complete façade. Fake as can be.
I glance over at my mother to see her eyes are full of unshed tears—real ones. And seeing her look like that as she stares at me makes tears form in my eyes as well. “Don’t cry,” I croak, trying to blink.
“Oh, Charlotte.” She comes to me, edging Caroline out of the way so she can stare at me in the mirror, our heads bent close together as she carefully slips her arms around my waist. “You look like a fairy princess. It’s just—it’s unbelievable.”
“Why?” I wipe underneath my eyes, grateful I didn’t wear mascara.
“I just didn’t expect you to choose a dress like this.”
“Like what?” I grab hold of the skirt, giving it a slight shake. “So big and poufy?”
Tinsley laughs. “I love the big-and-poufy look. It fits you.”
My mother takes a step back, glancing over at Tinsley. “Doesn’t it? Yet this is the girl who wanted to wear black to her wedding.”
Tinsley laughs even harder. “Now that would’ve been a sight to see. All of us Constantines would’ve praised her for keeping within the family theme.”
“What theme are you talking about?” I ask my future sister-in-law.
Her smile is small. “We all have black souls, don’t you know?”
Caroline lightly smacks her in the arm. “Speak for yourself.”
“Oh please. You have the darkest soul of us all.” Tinsley’s voice is light, as if she’s teasing, but I don’t know.
She might be right.
The seamstress appears and gets right to work, walking in a complete circle as she scrutinizes me in my gown. She fluffs out the train, examining the hem’s construction. Pushes it to the side so she can come up directly behind me, her hands gathering any loose fabric at my ribs and tucking it tighter around my back.
“It could be taken in a little here,” the older woman says to my mother.
Not to me. As if I don’t have anything to do with this, which is par for the course. I haven’t had much choice in this situation.
“Anywhere else?” Mother asks, her gaze shooting to mine. “Charlotte? How does it feel? Is it loose anywhere? Or too tight?”
“It’s perfect,” I answer automatically, my gaze returning to my reflection in the mirror. I stare at myself for a while, taking in the shimmering fabric, the delicate flowers, the frothy white lace. Mother is right. I look straight out of a fairy tale. “I love it.”
“You look stunning,” Mother says, her smile gentle. “Let’s take it in a little at the waist as the seamstress suggests.”
“Okay.” I smile, my gaze sliding to Tinsley. For some reason, I want her approval. Caroline will offer it automatically because I’m doing what she wants. My mother is overcome with emotion at seeing me in a wedding dress, so she’s a sure thing too.
Tinsley is the lone Constantine female close to my age. I view her as a potential ally. And I’m suddenly filled with the need for her to like me. Despite everything.
Like the truth.