Only Be Mine

1. Chapter 1

Cate

They say you shouldn’t hold onto ghosts.

But I’ve been wearing mine for ten years - stitched into every version of who I became after.

When I was little, I used to imagine my wedding day. The dress, the flowers, my dad walking me down the aisle. Then he left, and all those dreams folded themselves into a box I shoved to the back of my mind.

And then I met John, and everything I’d buried woke right back up.

I let out a slow breath and stepped behind the curtain of the alterations shop, lifting the old gown with a kind of reverence that embarrassed me. Ten years packed away, and the dress still looked as incredible as it had the day I brought it home.

The antique pearls caught the light, duller than I remembered, but still imperfect in the same quiet way. The silk felt cool under my fingertips. It had been designed just for me, back when I thought forever was something you could count on.

I undressed and slid the fabric over my head. It fell down my body in one smooth whisper of satin, and for a second, I forgot to breathe.

Then I looked in the mirror.

The dress was too big.

Or maybe I was too small - hollowed out in places silk couldn’t hide.

My sunken cheeks made the truth obvious.

Once, this dress had felt like the beginning of a new chapter. Now it felt like something I was trying not to disappear inside.

I swallowed hard and gathered my hair off my neck, trying to see the version of me who’d first worn this. The straps slipped straight off my shoulders.

“Miss Larkin? You okay?” Mr. Woo called from outside the curtain.

I hesitated, took one last look, then stepped out. “Yeah. Sorry. Let’s do this.”

He guided me onto the pedestal and immediately got to work, pinning and tugging with his usual brisk efficiency.

“What shoes you wear?”

“I have a pair of heels.”

“How tall?”

I spaced my fingers. “Two inches? Maybe?”

He nodded without looking up. Fifteen minutes later, he stepped back. “Okay. Careful now. Pins.”

I slipped out of the gown and forced myself not to look at it again. I folded the straps inward the way I always had, like the dress needed protecting more than I did. I changed, then handed it over carefully. “When do you think I can pick it up?”

“Five o’clock. Not five-oh-one, I lock door at five-oh-one”

Relief washed over me. Trevor would lose his mind if he knew I’d put the alterations off this long. “Thank you. Really.”

He ushered me toward the front of his shop. “I see you tonight.”

My best friend Amy stood from a chair by the window, tucking her phone away. “All done?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Outside, I looked up and down the deserted street. “Where’s your car?”

“Jim dropped me off. His car’s still in the shop.”

I dug around in my purse until I found my keys. I used the key fob to unlock the doors of my brand new Lexus SUV and pushed my hair out of my face. “In that case… You hungry?”

“Starving.”

I laughed, “Then let’s get out of here.”

Moe’s Café was the greatest restaurant I’d ever been to.

It smelled like grease, coffee, and nostalgia.

Trevor hated the place. He said it looked “unclean,” which was dramatic even for him, but it was still my favorite.

A new neon sign blinked Eat at Moe’s above the door.

I missed the old wooden one, but the world moved on whether you wanted it to or not.

Inside, teal booths lined the walls and a vintage jukebox played quietly in the corner, the whisper of Ellie Goulding singing “Love Me Like You Do.” Amy and I took a booth near the back.

As soon as I sat, she gave me a look - one of those gentle, probing, mother-hen looks she’d perfected since her daughter Grace was born.

“What?” I asked.

“What’s going on with you?”

I raised my arm into the air, choosing to wave down a waitress rather than answering. Last night’s hangover still pressed behind my temples - Amy’s fault, mostly - and I needed food before this conversation turned into an interrogation.

The waitress stopped at our table, pen ready.

“Cheeseburger, fries, and a strawberry milkshake,” I said quickly.

“Sure thing,” the waitress looked to Amy, who handed her menu back without opening it.

“Just a salad.”

“You got it. Anything else?”

Amy shook her head, but before the waitress could walk away, I stopped her. “Just a second.” I leaned across the table, “You can’t have just a salad. Come on, I’m buying.”

She gave me a look with pursed lips that clearly said “no.”

I sighed. “And a chicken sandwich for her. Light mayo.”

Amy glared at me across the table. “I have to fit into my dress tomorrow. So do you.”

“It’ll fit,” I muttered.

She crossed her arms, eyebrows lifted.

Here we go.

“What’s going on with you, Cate? You’re acting like you don’t even care about all this, about your wedding.”

The worst part was that she wasn’t wrong. I cared; I just didn’t know how to hold onto the joy without it slipping through my fingers.

“Shh!” I hissed. “Don’t say that so loud.”

“Why not? You think people can’t tell?”

My stomach tightened. I stared down at my hands, at the little half-moon dents where my nails had dug into my palms earlier at Mr. Woo’s.

After a long beat, I whispered, “Do you think Trevor knows?”

Amy’s expression softened. “He asked Jim if anything was wrong. Jim asked me. I said it was stress. Just some pre-wedding jitters.” She paused. “But it’s not, is it?”

I swallowed. “Remember John?”

The name landed between us like something fragile. Like if I said it wrong, it might finally break.

Amy reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Is that what this is about?”

A breath escaped me, half laugh, half ache. “I still remember the day I met him. It was Halloween and we were at that stupid haunted house…”