26. Ellie
Chapter twenty-six
Ellie
“ B ec, it’s…incredible.”
“Absolutely stunning.”
“It’s perfect.”
“You look beautiful.”
“Holy hotness. Aiden’s going to come in his pants when he sees you.”
Bec stands in front of the one-hundred-and-eighty-degree mirror in a wedding dress—soon to be her wedding dress—as the rest of us sing our praises because she looks radiant . Joy and giddiness fill the space as we all gush over the finer details of the dress and start talking about accessories.
Tears form in the corner of my eyes, and I blink quickly in an effort to hold them back. My best friend is getting married. I couldn’t be happier for her and Aiden.
I smile, a fleeting memory quickly racing through my mind of Bec and me in opposite places, her helping me make a final choice about the wedding dress I would wear when I got married and she was my maid of honor. Danny, her older sister, and I are her maid and matron of honor. Yes, she’ll have two, and I couldn’t be more honored that she asked me.
Bec and Aiden set their wedding date for this December, ensuring that the Aviators’ season will be over before the big day. They opted for the shorter engagement rather than wait for the following post-season since they aren’t able to predict the progression of Aiden’s mom’s Alzheimer’s disease. They want her to be able to enjoy the day with them as much as possible.
Bec’s dress couldn’t be more perfect for a winter wedding. I’m not a fashion expert, but I’d call it vintage boho. The A-line dress is completely lace and ivory with a champagne color underlay. The long sleeves billow slightly around her forearms and cinch in around her wrists in two lace cuffs. The V-neckline plunges low with tasteful cleavage, of course. You’re welcome, Aiden.
“Thanks, guys. Mom, Danny, and I stopped in impulsively last week after we grabbed lunch. It was the first dress I tried on, but I wanted to show you all to be sure. I think I have my answer. Oh, and we also found a few dresses we loved for the bridal party. If you’re up for trying on the different styles, they’re here for you to look at.”
The bridesmaids’ dresses are beautiful. Several shades of purple, all complementing one another. The chiffon dresses are in an array of different styles, and I heave a sigh of relief.
I love my friends more than anything. They’re beautiful inside and out. But my outsides have my insides feeling a little insecure lately, and if I have to stand next to them on Bec’s big day, I’d like to at least have a smidgen of self-esteem by choosing a style that flatters my curves. It’s not a big deal to them, but to me, I’d obsess about how I look compared to them if we were all in the same dress.
The girls and I start browsing, talking with Bec about what she envisions for the various wedding decisions—flowers, centerpieces, décor—when a dress catches my eye. It’s a deep purple, A-line dress with soft, flowy sleeves that look like they’d fall just shy of my elbow. The back has a large cutout with a decorative bow that ties at the base of the neck. I pull the dress off the clothing rack and notice a long slit up one side. That’s a lot of thigh.
I smile at the thought of Dom seeing me in this. Just that feeling alone, and how giddy it makes me, tells me I need to at least give this one a shot .
We all come out of our dressing rooms a few minutes later, having picked a range of styles and shades of purple. The confidence I had moments ago shrivels up when I see the other girls in their dresses. I felt amazing a second ago, until I let an ugly jealousy rule my mind completely.
“Oh my god, Ellie. That dress is perfect.” Carissa beams. “I absolutely love the color and style on you.”
Dee whistles and fans herself before yelling, “Hot momma.”
I blush from the attention but know that my friends wouldn’t lie to me. If they say the dress is flattering, I have to believe them. Especially since I don’t really want to try on any more options with my confidence shaken. Even more so when the seamstress comes to take my measurements for alterations. I know they’re just numbers, but god, sometimes it’s hard to hear. I do my best to shake it off and not let the insecurities bouncing around my brain ruin a perfectly good afternoon with my girls. But like they say, easier said than done.