25. MJ
MJ
B y the time we tumble out of the salon, we’re armed with fresh blowouts, shiny nails, and enough giggles to power the entire block.
Dina insists on snapping selfies in front of the plate-glass window like we’re Kardashian-level glamorous, and Carina waddles dramatically into every photo with her belly front and center, demanding captions like #HotMamaBear .
It feels good to laugh.
Almost normal.
Almost like my heart isn’t a cracked mess thanks to one particular Lion.
But the second we’re home, the sisters’ operation distraction goes into overdrive .
“Shower, MJ. Don’t forget to shower cap those curls! Now,” Dina commands, tossing me a silk robe from the pile of clothes she brought. “Trust me, you’re going to want to be smooth and moisturized for this dress.”
“What dress?” I demand, narrowing my eyes.
“This dress.” Carina beams, pulling a box from behind the couch like she’s a magician unveiling her big trick. “Special delivery. Uncle Uzzi sent it.”
My heart lurches.
“Uncle Uzzi? No. Absolutely not. He sent me the dress I wore when I got into this mess with Carter in the first place!”
“Yeah, well, apparently he’s meddling you into a new wardrobe.” Carina shrugs, smug.
My heart squeezes. I don’t know if this is a good idea, but I’m not rude, so I open the box— and I freeze.
The dress inside is breathtaking.
A tea-length confection of layered chiffon, shifting in an ombré from fiery maple red at the shoulders to deep, earthy gold at the hem.
It’s like Autumn leaves were spun into fabric just for me.
And the shoes tucked underneath ?
Kitten heels, shiny and perfect, with delicate buckles that wink like they’re in on a secret.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, fingers trembling as I lift the gown. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Try it on already!” Dina squeals, practically bouncing.
So I do.
And when I step into the living room, their jaws drop.
“Marianne Jeanne Coppola,” Carina says softly, hands pressed to her cheeks. “You are stunning.”
I can’t look at myself too long in the mirror because my throat gets tight. When was the last time I felt this beautiful?
Maybe never.
I bite my lip, smoothing my palms down the flowing skirt.
“This is so nice and all, but um, I really don’t think I’m up for a party, guys.”
“Too bad,” Dina says, linking her arm through mine. “Because we are.”
“Yeah,” Carina grins, wobbling into her heels with surprising grace for a pregnant lady. “And you’re coming with us.”
I don’t even get the chance to argue.
Horace pulls up in his SUV, Doug takes the front seat, and before I know it, we’re gliding through the glowing city streets.
My stomach is in knots the entire drive, even more so when we pull into the parking lot I know too well.
I bite my lip so hard it nearly bleeds.
“Um, wait a second, guys? What are we doing here ?”
“What?” Carina chirps innocently, adjusting her wrap. “MJ, you look so good. Come on, I’m starving.”
Dina is already out the door, heels clacking, tugging me after her.
“Let’s go, Cinderella. Midnight’s coming.”
And my heart? It’s racing like it knows what’s waiting inside.