Chapter 30
Lyra
R
ia manages to talk me into staying longer with Tanner, long enough to get a few shots of us hugging in the moonlight.
He seems to sense that I don’t want to kiss him.
Rue presses for a more intimate shot, but Tanner seems content to keep his arms around me. He drops a kiss on the top of my head, but that’s it.
I want to thank him, but that might be weird. I do give him a long hug when I say goodnight.
Tanner is a good guy, but not for me.
The next morning, they get me up early for another date.
Another day, another date—and then I remember this is the wedding dress date.
They let Sophie, Camille, and Odin join me for this date. Bo declines for his family, even though Tema clearly wants to be a part of it.
I’m fine with that. I know it’s selfish, but if Tema was there, it would be all about Tema, and this is my show.
All the men are included because it’s the wedding dress shoot, so I’ll get to see Spencer.
I’ve watched the show enough times to know this is a big deal, but Odin left his season too early, and also didn’t really watch the show, so he has no clue about the implications.
“Everyone gets dressed up in wedding clothes and there’s some sort of competition and the top few get pictures taken and one wins time with Lyra,” Sophie explains as we’re driven to the hotel to find my wedding dress.
“And why is that important?” Odin wants to know.
“Because it will give her a visual of what it might be like to marry the person,” Sophie says, sounding so patient even as she rolls her eyes.
Marry.
That’s the show’s endgame, but I haven’t decided if it’s mine yet. My initial goal was to just find someone to take my mind off Spencer.
Super hard, now that he’s shown up.
He’ll be there for this group date. I couldn’t leave him out, even if I wanted to.
No one is in sight as we pull up to the hotel, and I can’t even see faces waving from the windows. They must have them sequestered somewhere.
“What do the men wear?” Odin wants to know as Alexa ushers us to the ballroom at the back of the hotel.
“Tuxedos. Suits. Maybe there’ll be a kilt.” Sophie grabs Camille’s arm with excitement and she laughs.
“What do I have to wear?” Odin asks in a sour voice.
“You don’t have to wear anything if you don’t want to be here,” I snap at my brother. “This is about me, you know. You had your turn.”
Odin looks surprised, but nods his head. “Sorry, Lyra. I’d like to stay and I’ll wear whatever you want me to.”
“Oh, this should be good,” Camille murmurs, and I laugh.
Laughing helps with the nerves.
I shouldn’t be nervous. It’s the third group date; I don’t have to do anything but smile and look beautiful. But it’s the rack of wedding dresses at the side of the room that has the knot in my stomach tightening.
I’ve never been the type of girl who imagined her wedding dress, mainly because I’m a princess and I know if I want a dress, all I have to do is call up a few designers and find something that fits and is in fashion.
It’s not a very romantic way to look at it.
But I’ve also never imagined the day where I need to try on dresses, because it hurts too much to realize that my mother won’t be there with me.
I tuck that sadness down deep and join Sophie and Camille as we sort through the dresses to find one that suits me.
The princess styles are the first to go.
Sophie finds an interesting choice—a mermaid style, fitted tight to my body before splaying out below my knees, with a lace overlay that actually looks like scales. I’m ready to try it on, but Camille points out how difficult it would be to walk, as I have “very long strides.”
Huh. I’ve never really considered my stride, except the few times I’ve been on a runway. And I had no idea Camille notices things like that.
She finds a satin sheath in a beautiful ivory shade that looks pinkish in the right light, but the back is completely bare and dips so low in the front that it might be difficult to keep up.
“Mom wouldn’t go for this one,” I say aloud as I study myself in the mirror.
“Your mom?” Sophie looks at me strangely. Yes, we are back to being best friends again, but I’ve never mentioned my mother to her. She missed that part of my life, and even though she knows what happened, she doesn’t know how it felt.
How it still feels.
I catch my breath because I never meant to say that out loud. “I mean—”
“It must be hard, knowing your mother won’t see you like this,” Camille says in a soft voice. “I know it was for me.”
I turn to my sister-in-law. “And you were by yourself,” I realize. “That would have been horrible.”
Camille’s lips quirk. “Well, I was marrying your brother, so it wasn’t all that bad.”
“Do you ever…?” I pause. I don’t know why I never thought of talking to Camille about this before. She lost her mother, so she must have some understanding of how this is for me. “Does it ever feel like she’s… there?” I ask in a whisper. “Your mother?”
“Of course. There’s a bird on Miquelon that always makes me think of her when I see it.”
“Was it her favourite bird?”
“No, she hated it.” Camille smiles, but there’s a sadness in her eyes. “She would complain about it every time she saw it. It makes me laugh when it’s around, and I like to think that’s what she would want. For me to laugh instead of crying.”
“My mom definitely would want that. When I hear different songs, I think of her. But being here, trying to find a ‘husband’—” I use air quotes around the word because I’m not a hundred percent sure that’s what I’m looking for. “I’ve been thinking of her a lot more.”
“It’s something you’d want your mother around for,” Camille agrees, giving my hand a squeeze.
“Yeah.”
Sophie is quiet through this exchange, since she still has her mother, however unpleasant a person she might be. “Lyra? Look at this one.”
She’s holding a white dress with ruffles like a flapper’s dress, but it’s the one on the rack beside it that grabs my attention. “Yes, but this one.” I snatch it from the rack and hold it against myself.
“Definitely try that one on,” Camille instructs.
“Your mother would think it’s perfect,” Sophie adds.
It takes a bit to get into it, but finally, with Alexa’s help, I stand in front of the three-way mirror in the dress.
And it might well be “The Dress.”
“I think I found it,” I whisper. Alexa has run off to find a headpiece that would go with the dress, Sophie went to find a bouquet, and Camille has gone to find Odin, so I’m alone with the moment.
I haven’t had too many moments like this since I’ve been here.
“What do you think?” I ask my mother. I know she’s not here, but she should be. Maybe not here, on the set of The Suitorette, but if this were real life, she should be with me.
And it… it hurts my heart that she’s not.
I take a few deep breaths because tears are threatening and the last thing I want is to be found crying over a dress.
It’s not as easy as it should be, taking a deep breath in this dress. Strapless heavy satin hugs my torso; a sharp, upward-pointing fabric accent marked the straight neckline.
Just below my hips, six strips of silvery white tulle fall in ruffles, almost completely covering the satin.
“Strict at the top, party at the bottom,” I say to my reflection. I want to smile; I want to jump up and down with delight that I am wearing such a beautiful, perfect dress, but the sadness is there, too strong for me to ignore.
A shrill bird song catches my attention and I turn to the window. A solitary bird sits on a branch like it’s looking in the window.
“I know that’s not you, Mom, but I’m going to pretend it is,” I whisper. Just for a moment. Just until the sadness—which she wouldn’t want me to be feeling—dissipates.
I sniff and give a shake of my head, and it’s gone.
But the bird stays.