Chapter Nineteen Unwelcome Surprise #3
Jayce wouldn’t care about lace.
Jayce wouldn’t care about chandeliers.
Jayce isn’t my fiancé. Not really.
None of this is real. Mom is planning out a fantasy that will never actually happen.
She looks so happy. Radiant. This is everything she’s ever wanted for me.
I remember when I was about seven years old, she took me to her giant closet and showed me her wedding dress. She held it against her and twirled around the room, a sparkle in her eyes.
I thought she looked like a princess.
“Someday, you’ll get to wear a white dress of your own,” she’d gushed. “You’ll be the most beautiful bride ever, Sutton.”
I’d smiled, genuinely excited at the prospect, and said, “Yay! I can’t wait, Mommy!”
I’m not so innocent and naive anymore, but I still love my mom and I don’t want to ruin her dream.
So I smile and nod. I keep up the ruse, even though I know when it ends, it’ll break her heart.
No matter what excuse Jayce and I come up with for ending things, Mom will be crushed.
No amount of lavender oil head massaging is going to melt away the guilt building up within me.
After the spa, she drags me to a wedding boutique filled with gorgeous dresses and my stomach knots.
“Mom, I don’t think this is a good idea,” I try to protest.
“Just try a few!” she insists. “You don’t have to pick one today, obviously, but it’ll be so fun. And who knows! Maybe you’ll get some ideas.”
A little voice in the back of my head is telling me not to do this. It’s too much. Taking things too far and making them too real.
However, when I gaze into my Mom’s eager expression, I can’t say no.
“All right,” I sigh. “We can try on a few.”
She lets out an excited shriek and grabs my hand, dragging me into the shop. We don’t have an appointment, but that doesn’t matter when Mom flashes her credit card and drops our last name. The shop’s consultants are all too happy to help us then.
Mom and the consultants make their way through the shop, picking out dresses while I trail behind them, nodding and smiling and agreeing to whatever they choose for me to try on.
I try not to look at any of the gowns myself, because I’m not going to really wear one, so why risk actually falling in love with one?
Once they’ve picked out about ten dresses or so, I’m taken to the back and ushered into a fitting room.
I stare at myself in the mirror as I step into the first dress.
My hands shake and I can’t breath as the consultant zips me into a trumpet-style satin gown with a scooped neckline that makes me look curvy and fits me like a fucking glove.
Oh God. My eyes try to well up. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done this.
When I step out, my mom gasps, hands covering her mouth. “Oh, honey…”
Her eyes sparkle with excitement. It takes everything in me not to cry… but not because the dress is so beautiful I’m overwhelmed with happiness.
“You look amazing,” she says softly. “Jayce won’t be able to breathe when he sees you.”
A shard of guilt lodges deeper in my ribs.
Jayce won’t see this dress. He won’t see any dresses. He won’t even see me walk down an aisle, and neither will she.
I grip the skirt until my knuckles whiten. “Mom…”
But she’s already talking again, turning me toward the mirror, adjusting the straps, planning aloud.
“This dress would be perfect for an elegant, classic wedding,” she says. “Like Old Hollywood glam. You’re as beautiful as Marilyn Monroe.”
I tell myself to take a breath. Keep smiling. Keep pretending. I knew this was going to be hard, but I didn’t imagine I’d feel so awful when faced with Mom’s giddiness.
“Um… I’m not sure this is the one,” I manage to choke out.
“That’s okay! We’ll figure it out. This is your moment, sweetheart. Your chance to have everything you deserve.”
Everything I deserve.
The words twist in my gut like a knife.
I don’t deserve any of this. I’m a shitty daughter, lying to my mother’s face. A shitty fake fiancee, and I was the shittiest sister ever…
My stomach twists and I quickly divert my thoughts. I don’t want to risk bringing up Colson’s name around Mom.
I manage to get us out of the dress shop after a few more try-ons, insisting I just need more time to think about the wedding as a whole before I make a decision.
I can tell Mom’s disappointed, but she quickly shakes it off since there’s so many other details for her to focus on.
We end the afternoon at a café, shopping bags piled around us.
My mom is still glowing, flipping through her phone, showing me venue photos she’s saved.
“So tell me,” she says, stirring her tea. “When you picture the ceremony, what do you see?”
My throat closes. I stare at her and I have no idea what to say.
“I…um…” My voice wavers, and I take a sip of water to cover it. “I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Well, start thinking,” she says warmly, touching my hand. “This is the good part. The fun part. You’re marrying a wonderful man, Sutton. I can tell he adores you.”
My chest aches. My smile hurts.
Whether Jayce likes me or not isn’t the point, and she can’t know that from the few seconds she interacted with him this morning. She’s projecting what she wants onto the situation, because as overbearing as she can be, I know she ultimately wants me to be happy and cared for.
If only we could see eye-to-eye on what that means. None of this would be happening right now.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I know.”
The guilt is suffocating at this point, and I don’t know how long I can last before it chokes the life right out of me.