Chapter Nineteen

Dylan

Brad is at work, and Vada and Roman are on wedding dress shopping duty. I wish they could appreciate op shopping. I can't justify spending thousands of dollars on a dress I will only wear for a few hours.

Roman scans the dresses and holds one up that looks like it has been sitting there since the eighties. Vada makes a gagging sound.

Winnie is making Vada's dress, as Vada has aversions to fabrics, and I want her to be comfortable. I'm grateful Winnie is a whizz on a sewing machine.

I wander down the aisles, and something catches my eye. I smile. It's not exactly a wedding dress, but Winnie's words fill my head.

A wedding dress chooses you, and when you know, you know.

It screams boho chic, not my normal go-to style at all, but this dress I know Brad will love. The colour under the lace is a light brown—it matches one of Brad's ugly flannos—but this dress is something else.

"Would you like to try it on?" the older saleslady asks, and I nod. "Oh, and I have the perfect thing to match. You get changed and I will be right back."

I look for Vada and Roman, but they are on the other side of the store. Roman is trying on top hats and Vada is giggling. I leave them to it and step into the change room, stripping down and pulling the dress over my head. Winnie was definitely right—this dress has chosen me. Is it possible that something you find at a second-hand store fits you so well, you think it was made just for you?

Looking at myself in the mirror, tears spring to my eyes as I run my fingers over the material. I will need to find some of those Jesus sandals; they will make this dress so much better. I only know what Jesus sandals are thanks to Logan—he has a pair at the front door in the shoe rack. Apparently some girl left them behind after a one-night stand. Would it be wrong to wear his old hook-up's forgotten shoes? Well, every wedding has something borrowed, right?

The old lady announces herself and opens the curtain and slips in. She holds up a small circle of white flowers—I think you're supposed to wear it in your hair.

"You would need to secure it with bobby pins, but we can just pretend for now." She hands it to me, and I turn to face the mirror, placing it on top of my head. "Oh my, that is perfect! Are you ready to show your friends? They are right outside."

I nod and she slips back out and gives me a minute. I snap a picture of myself quickly so I can send it to Winnie. Then I take a deep breath in and step out of the changing room.

Vada's hand flies to her mouth and Roman smiles.

"You look like a girl," Roman says.

"I am a girl, dickface. Vada, say something."

She lowers her hand, and her eyes start to water. "You look beautiful. How do you feel?"

I take a second to gather my thoughts. How do I feel? Like I'm good enough to marry Brad. "I feel like I might actually want to do this."

Vada claps her hands. "Woo! Does this mean you are going to stop trying to get Brad to call off the wedding?"

I throw my head back and laugh. "Not a chance."

I step back into the changing room and get dressed again, then carefully hang the boho dress back on its hanger and bring it and the circlet of white flowers to the counter. Roman and Vada are waiting there, and Roman hands over his card to the saleslady.

"Roman, what are you doing?" I say.

"Paying for your dress. It's a gift because I don't know what else to get you."

I sigh. "Thank you."

We walk out of the store and I'm on cloud nine, so I send Brad a text.

Dylan

Guess what I just did?

The bubbles pop up straight away. I have been showing Brad how to use his phone and he is getting so much faster at texting back.

Brad

It doesn't require bail money does it?

I laugh at his response.

Dylan

No, I just got a wedding dress.

My phone rings and I answer, his handsome face filling my screen. "Do you need any money?" he blurts out. "I know dresses are super expensive. You can ask me for money, you know that, right?"

I smile at him. "Brad, it's fine. Roman insisted on paying as a gift from him. Plus, it wasn't expensive."

He shakes his head. "You went to the second-hand store, didn't you?" I nod, and he rolls his eyes. "You only get married once. You can have whatever dress you want."

"With divorce rates high, I might end up married three times, especially since my future husband has sugar daddy vibes." Brad laughs, and I continue, "It's perfect, really. Vada wouldn't have let me buy it if it wasn't. Trust me on this."

"And it doesn't look anything like that other monstrosity that you wore," Vada chimes in.

Roman snatches the phone from my hands. "Be prepared to get a boner. She looked hot."

I snatch my phone back from him.

"I'm jealous he has seen you in the dress you plan to marry me in," Brad huffs out.

"Lucky for you, you will get to see what I wear underneath it first."

Brad's face screws up. "I better be the only one seeing what's under your clothes."

"Only you," I say with a wink. "I'll see you at home."

"You will, and maybe you will be naked and waiting for me."

"I think I can arrange that. Shit, my phone is about to die. See you in a few hours."

My phone powers off and I get into Roman's car, the first wave of pain hitting me as soon as I close the door.

"I need you to open the door," I gasp out.

I don't know who gets out of the car, but the back door opens, and I turn just in time to vomit outside the car door. The pain hits me in waves, and there is that sensation where I know I'm bleeding. Why now?

My hands shake from the pain, and I finally hear Roman's voice.

"Get in the car, Vada. We need to take her to New Hope Private, now ."

Car doors close, and I lie sideways in the back of Roman's car. I can't move, and nausea is at the forefront, along with intense pain. It feels like something is trying to claw its way out of my body. Maybe I'm possessed. Logan's theory is an alien has taken over my body, and he even joked that one day it would be like a scene out of Alien. Maybe he is right.

I feel like this is how I die, and I will be pissed off if I do. Surely, I have done enough good things to keep karma off my back, but every time something is going good in my life, I'm brought right back down to reality.

"Dylan, can you hear me?" someone says. The sound that comes out of me is a half gurgle instead of an answer. "Let's get her inside."

Why did they bring me here? They should have taken me home. It's the same song and dance every time. "It's just your period, so take some ibuprofen and rest." Or, "You have a cyst, it will be fine." I will stab those fuckers in the gut and see how much ibuprofen can fix it.

Periods for me suck. Normally I have warning that they are coming, but maybe I was so wrapped up in Brad I didn't realise. I should have had at least another week; maybe all the sex has brought it on early.

Someone puts a mask over my face. The pain is so bad, my vision is blurred. My usual approach of trying to pretend this is not happening usually works, along with a heat pack. As if someone can read my mind, a heat pack is placed on my stomach.

How could the perfect day turn to shit so quickly? And where are Vada and Roman? Or my phone?

"My phone," I say, hoping someone will get it for me.

I need Brad here with me, and it's like I just had an epiphany: never have I ever wanted anyone when I have been in pain. I have never had anyone comfort me, but right now, I need my fiancé here to hold my hand and tell me everything will be okay.