Quinn #3
The square neckline sits perfectly, the fitted bodice hugging me in all the right places without making me feel trapped. The dress follows my curves all the way down before flaring out just above my knees.
A mermaid silhouette, exactly what I wanted.
It doesn't hide me, it doesn't swallow me whole.
For once, I don't immediately start looking for flaws.
Fiona steps back, smoothing her hands down the dress. “Ready?”
I don’t think I am, but I nod anyway. I step out of the changing room and onto the platform and catch sight of me in the mirrors. For a second, I genuinely don’t recognize the woman staring back at me.
The ivory against my skin is softer than the harsh white of the other dresses, warmer somehow, and the clean lines make everything look sharper and more elegant. The dress makes me look taller, my waist smaller, my curves softer but somehow more noticeable at the same time.
It’s modern, but there’s something timeless about it too. It’s sophisticated and beautiful.
My throat tightens, because for the first time all day, maybe for the first time since this whole thing started, I feel beautiful.
Not the second choice, not the replacement bride. Just… me.
I slowly turn, catching sight of the low back in the mirror, the neat row of buttons trailing down, the soft train pooling behind me.
“Oh,” I whisper, my hand lifting to my chest.
Fiona smiles softly behind me. “That sounds promising.”
Daithí looks up from his phone at our voices and looks at me. He doesn't say anything for a moment and I watch him process it, watch pride and love move across his face.
"Jesus Christ," he says, quietly.
I almost laugh. "Is that good or bad?"
He clears his throat. "That's the one."
I turn to the mirrors. My eyes sting again and this time I don't stop it entirely. One tear, just one, that I brush away before it becomes more.
Fiona makes a sound that means she agrees with Daithí as she fixes a veil to my hair with a beautiful bright smile on her face.
I stand there for another moment and I think whatever is waiting for me on the other side of the next four weeks, I'm walking into it looking like this.
Not like someone who made herself small, not like the replacement, the accident, the burden, the difficult-to-love girl who takes everything and buries it down deep.
But like Quinn Delaney. This beautiful, smart woman who’s staring back at me with so much hope in her eyes. It takes my breath away. I’ve never felt so beautiful and powerful as I do right now.
"It’s definitely the one,” I say thickly.
Fiona beams at me and Daithí grins, both of them nodding with agreement.
Once I’m changed out of the dress, which Fiona has pinned with the adjustments needed, I can’t help but feel like I’m on top of the world. I’ve found the perfect dress and I can’t wait for everyone to see it.
“You’re all set,” Fiona tells me as she hands Daithí a receipt.
“I’ll call you once the dress is ready to pick up.
I’ll have the shoes, veil, and the other accessories ready for collection at the same time.
” She turns to me. “Miss Quinn, thank you so much for allowing me to be the one to help you pick your dress, it’s perfect for you and I’m honored that you chose me. ”
“Thank you,” I say, my voice thick.
“Why did you pay for the dress? Let alone buy all the other accessories,” I hiss at Daithí once we’re out of the store.
“Because I wanted to. A thank you is all that is required.”
I blink at him. “Are you serious? How much did you just spend in there?”
"Don’t worry about it, Quinn, I’m glad that I was able to do this.”
The afternoon is cool and bright, and for the first time in two days I feel able to breathe easy.
"Thank you," I say when we reach his car.
"You’re welcome." He glances at me and I watch as his expression softens. "You're going to be okay," he says. "I mean that."
"I know." And I do. I think he’s trying his hardest to be here for me. I’m going to let him because, as crazy as it is, I’m not stupid, and I know that I’m going to need him once I get married.
“I’ll drive behind you,” he tells me as he climbs into his car. “I’ll see you back at the house.”
It takes us around forty minutes to arrive home and the moment I enter the grounds of our home, I see the car. I know who it belongs too and I’m not looking forward to whatever it is he has to say right now. I’ve had an amazing day and I don’t want it spoiled.
But I’m guessing he’s been waiting for a while and no doubt getting impatient.
I exit my car just as Daithí does too. My brother moves toward me. "Quinn," he says, his voice harder than it’s been all day.
"I know," I reply softly. “It’ll be okay.”
"Too fucking right it will be.”
We walk toward the house and the front door opens before we reach it, and Marco, Lorenzo's man, holds it without expression.
"Hello Mr. Marco,” I greet him as I enter the house.
I feel Daithí’s tension beside me, and I know that he’s beyond pissed, but I don’t think about that right now as I notice that Lorenzo is in the front sitting room.
He's standing and as Daithí and I enter the room, he turns to look at us.
"We need to talk," Lorenzo says in lieu of greeting.
Well there goes the good day I’ve been having. Great. Just great.