4. Lark

Chapter four

Lark

“I want to see her in the ball gown next.” Cordelia’s imperious command reaches me in the changing room and I don’t bother hiding my grimace. It’s not like the salesgirl who has been helping me in and out of dress after dress cares that I have yet to try on one that I actually like. She only cares about the hefty commission she sees coming her way.

I take in a full breath when she finally gets the last button undone on the current monstrosity I’m wearing. Any sense of modesty is gone as I place my hands on my hips and breathe in and out slowly. I’m wearing a strapless bra and a thong and have already been informed by my future mother-in-law that it is unbecoming to wear that style of underwear. How did she know? Apparently, the line of my underwear was visible underneath the first dress I tried on, a satin sheath that clung in all the wrong places, and hung off me like a sack in others.

The salesgirl steps out and I take a second to text Monty a quick photo of the last dress with a one-liner from Star Wars .

LARK: I’ve got a bad feeling about this …

The man knows those movies inside and out, and I know he’ll appreciate the joke.

The four laughing emojis he immediately sends back fortify me just enough. I can get through this.

I think.

I’ll give Cordelia one thing, she at least let me try a wide variety of styles. But every single one has earned a sneer or a grimace of distaste and a hand wave. Baron’s sister Felicity has had her nose glued to her phone, and Willow, who arrived late, has been turning more red by the minute. Our other friend, Sadie, who’s dating another Tridents player, couldn’t make it because of a family commitment. Too bad, because I could really use the backup right about now.

A knock on the door has the salesgirl opening it, and I assume it’s the next dress. Instead, I hear Willow’s voice. “Give us a minute, please.”

I sink down on the small tufted stool in the corner and let my head fall into my hands. That fortification from Dan’s text is gone. With Willow, I can show how I truly feel. “This is torture.”

Willow lets out an indelicate snort. “What, the horrible dresses you keep coming out in, or the vile energy Cordelia’s putting out.”

I look up and Willow, noticing my misery, drops down into a crouch in front of me. “Babe, why are you doing this? Why are you letting her dictate everything? Buying your wedding dress should be fun and exciting, not the worst day of your life.”

“She’s impossible to say no to.”

“I’ll do it for you. Say the word, and I’ll kick her ass out of here.”

I laugh and sniff back a tear. “You’re the best, but that would only make it worse.”

“You’re only saying that because you haven’t seen the next dress she wants you to try on.” Willow shudders. “Trust me. It’s by far the worst one yet. And I’m willing to bet she loves it.”

“It’s just a dress, right? If it makes her happy…” I trail off, fully aware of how crazy I sound. Willow’s already shaking her head.

“Lark, you should be happy on your wedding day. It’s not about her, it’s about you and Baron.” She glances down for a second, and when she meets my eyes again, her expression is concerned. “Are you sure this is all worth it? I thought maybe…after what you said…”

I know what she’s referring to without her even finishing her thought. The night I told the girls I was engaged, I also admitted it may have been a mistake, and that I didn’t want to marry Baron.

“I don’t know what to do, Willow,” I whisper. “Is he the man of my dreams? No. But is he a good man who wants to marry me? Yeah. What if this is as good as it gets for me?”

“That is the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth, Lark Miller.” Willow squeezes my knees. “You are a phenomenal woman. Gorgeous, smart, athletic, funny, kind. You’re a hell of a catch and you can abso-freaking-lutely do better than Baron and his horrendous family. If you’re marrying him because you honestly don’t see that, then I need to kidnap you right the heck now and hold you hostage until I get you to see it.”

I give her a watery smile. “Like I said, you’re the best.” I inhale and exhale slowly once again. “I know I need to decide what to do, and soon. It’s just not exactly an easy decision, you know?”

Willow nods. “I know.” She stands up and places her hands on her hips. “Now, let’s get this last dress over with so we can go and get lunch. The wine’s on me.”

I nod and paste a large smile on my face. “Sounds good.”

When I come out of the changing room a little while later, feeling like a cupcake in the ridiculously large ball gown, sure enough, Willow’s prediction comes true. Cordelia stands up, smiling for once.

“Now this is a dress fit for a Hazelwood wedding.”

I bite my tongue as she walks slowly around me, tugging at parts, talking to the salesgirl, and completely ignoring me.

Probably a good thing since it might be written all over my face that I can’t shake the image of Julia Roberts in the opening scenes of Runaway Bride . This dress bears an eerie resemblance to hers…which is kind of a bad omen, isn’t it?

“Yes. This is the one.”

I turn to Cordelia at her imperious announcement. “This one?” I ask, hoping she’ll hear the hesitation in my voice and at least ask my opinion. But she simply nods.

“Yes. Trust me, Lark. This is the dress.”

Trust her. More like relinquish all control to her. I’d say something, but what’s the point? It’s not like she’d hear me, anyway. And I meant what I said to Willow earlier. It’s just a dress. I’ve always believed when I got married, the only thing that would truly matter would be the love I had for the person standing in front of me. Not the dress, or the party, or the cake, nothing but the person I was promising my life to .

I step back into the changeroom and let the salesgirl help me out of the hideous dress. Once I’m dressed, I rejoin Felicity and Cordelia at the front of the store. Willow is outside on a call from work. Cordelia is also looking down at her phone, and when she glances back up, there’s a light in her eyes that I don’t like the look of.

“Wonderful news, Lark. That was Helen over at Green Briar. I had reached out to her to see how long their current wait list is. It’s never too soon, you know. We must be prepared.”

My brow furrows in confusion. “What’s Green Briar? A wedding venue?”

Cordelia lets out a brittle laugh. “Heavens, no. It’s the boarding school Baron and Felicity went to. They’ve recently opened an elementary-aged program. Your children can start attending when they’re eight. Helen informed me that as soon as we have your anticipated due date, we should be in touch to secure a placement.”

What. Did. She. Just. Say?

“I’m sorry, boarding school?” I ask, not bothering to hide the shock in my tone.

“Yes. Of course. The last three generations of Hazelwoods have gone to Green Briar, it’s the leading coed boarding school in the country. Hasn’t Baron told you about his time there? He looks back on it fondly, I know.”

Thank God Willow’s outside on her phone, or I know she would have bust out laughing at the absurdity of this.

I grew up with distant, disconnected parents. Heck, Rose, my childhood nanny, was more of an influence on me than they were. And I swore that if I ever had children, they would know nothing but unconditional love from me.

Boarding school is not an option.

To say nothing of the fact that I’m not planning on becoming pregnant any time soon. The very idea of going on a list for some hypothetical child that will exist some time in the future is absolutely insane.

“Baron and I have not discussed his time there,” I say stiffly, meeting her gaze head-on. Her eyes narrow, as if she senses the fight that’s coming. “But I can assure you, I do not agree to my future children attending boarding school.”

Cordelia doesn’t rise to my statement. She simply sniffs, turns away without another word, and walks out of the boutique.

Honestly, I’m counting that as a win.

After the horrifying dress shopping experience, Willow and I went to lunch. When I told her about the boarding school bomb, she was suitably horrified on my behalf.

And even now, hours later, as I head to Dan’s house to watch a movie with him, I can’t stop fuming about the entire situation.

It’s one thing to take over my wedding. But to try and control the way I will raise my future children is too far. Boarding school. I realize, for some families, that’s the best option. But that’s not even up for consideration in my mind. And the next time I talk to Baron on the phone, it won’t matter if he’s on the other side of the country doing who-knows-what for the firm. I’ll be telling him that it will never happen. Ever .

I knock on Dan’s front door, then turn the knob. He never leaves it locked when he knows I’m coming over.

But I guess I’m early tonight, either that or he’s running late. Because I come to an abrupt halt just inside when he walks into the living room shirtless. His trim, muscular body is on full display, right down to the trail of dark hair running from his belly button down…

“Lark!” he says, his eyes widening. He’s holding a shirt in one hand, and his shaggy dark hair looks wet. “You’re…you’re here. Shit. What time is it?”

I can feel my cheeks growing red, which is ridiculous. It’s not as if I haven’t seen him without a shirt before. Heck, most of my workdays are spent surrounded by muscular baseball players in various stages of undress.

There’s something about this moment, in his home, just the two of us, that feels different, however. Intimate, in a way.

“Sorry, I guess I’m early?” I say, casting my eyes to the side. He pulls the shirt in his hand over his head and moves toward me.

“It’s fine, you just surprised me.” He sounds a lot calmer than before, and certainly more than I feel. But I glance over to see he’s heading toward the kitchen. “Pizza will be here in half an hour. Want a beer?”

I follow him, grateful to have moved past that awkward moment, whatever it was. “I’m not sure that’s going to be strong enough, but yeah.”

Dan looks at me with a half smile. “That bad, huh?”

“Death by tulle was a definite possibility.”

His deep chuckle has me relaxing for the first time all day. It’s always like this with him, easy and fun.

“Tulle? Really? I would have thought sequins would be more of a risk to your well-being.”

“It was all dangerous.” I take a long pull from the bottle of beer he gives me. “But you want to know the worst part? It wasn’t even the uncomfortable dresses that made me struggle to breathe. Oh no.” I stand up, unable to stay seated for this tirade. I pace Dan’s kitchen, clutching my bottle of beer in two hands. “Baron’s mother had the freaking audacity to tell me she’s already got my nonexistent future children on some wait list for a boarding school. Boarding school! Who the hell even goes to boarding school aside from, like, politician’s kids or whatever? Good Lord, as if I would want my kids raised anywhere but at home with their parents. No, thank you, not happening. I mean, my childhood sucked, but at least I saw my parents at dinnertime and lived under the same roof as them. And come on! I’m not even married, and she’s already planning my child’s future? There’s control freak, and then there’s Cordelia Hazelwood.”

I stop, breathing heavily, and turn to see Dan leaning against the counter, his brown eyes wide. “Say something. Please tell me you agree that she’s nuts.”

His head slowly starts to move side to side. “Nuts isn’t even strong enough, but I don’t want to be offensive to people who struggle with their mental health. She stepped so far over every single fucking line, it’s not even funny. I’m sorry, Lark.” He frowns. “Boarding schools might be a good option for some families, but I can’t imagine not having my kids at home. If I ever have them. ”

I tilt my beer bottle toward him. “Exactly.”

“Mother-in-law drama aside, did you find a dress?”

I groan, letting my head fall forward. “No, but Cordelia did.”

Dan coughs on his sip of beer, wiping a hand over his mouth before answering. “What does that mean?”

“It means she wants me to wear the most ostentatious, uncomfortable, gaudy dress I’ve ever seen in my life.”

His brows furrow. “Um, Lark, I’m no expert, but isn’t the bride meant to choose her own dress?”

“Not when you’ve got someone like Cordelia in charge.” I grimace. “Honestly, it was easier to just let her get her way.”

“Listen, I don’t want to be rude or anything, but that doesn’t sound like the greatest attitude to have about planning your wedding,” he says, wincing. “Sorry.”

My sigh is long and drawn out. “You’re not wrong.” My laugh comes out a lot harsher than it probably should, but Dan doesn’t say anything.

He’s never come out and said he thinks I shouldn’t be with Baron, not like Willow has. Part of me wishes he would, because in the back of my mind, there’s always been a quiet voice questioning what if… What if I was single when I met Dan? Would something have happened? Even though he’s never once made a move outside of friendship, we’ve been mistaken for a couple before when we’ve gone out just the two of us for some reason.

He’s a catch, and I’ve always wondered why he’s single but never been brave enough to ask. I told myself I had no business asking since I was in a relationship.

And now? Now, I’m trying to figure out how I ended up here, engaged to a man I don’t actually love. Feeling trapped and knowing I let myself get to this point.

Torn between wanting to walk away from it all and being terrified of disappointing everyone if I do.

And beneath all of that, the voice continues to whisper. What if I walked away from it all…