35. Cassidy
Chapter 35
Cassidy
I stared at the mirror, panic constricting around my throat at the sight of the wedding dress wrapping me tightly.
“I’d selected the three dresses I thought would best suit your figure,” the lady called, standing outside the dressing room. And no doubt the most expensive because none of them were in my taste. This dress swallowed me whole, a princess cut with so many frills that the moment a gust of wind bristled around me I’d be picked up and be blown away.
“Cassidy, dear, come out and show us,” my mother called out. This was all wrong. I could hardly move.
“Cassidy,” Clover’s voice gently encouraged. “I’m coming in, okay?” She ducked her head behind the curtain. “Are you okay?”
From her reaction, I obviously wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it. No. I wasn’t okay. My parents were forcing me to marry the biggest jackass of all time, and yet I didn’t have the will power to run away anymore, and now I was dressed up like a fucking Barbie doll. Man, it was getting hot in here.
“Cassidy, come out and show us,” my mother called out again. I swallowed hard.
“It’s okay,” Clover said reassuringly and held out her hand. No, it wasn’t, but I nodded and took her hand anyway, letting her guide me out.
My mother’s glass of champagne suspended at her mouth as she looked over the dress, her lips going thin as she pursed them. This felt all kinds of wrong. And the airflow was clearly not working in here. I’d envisioned my wedding day since I was a small child and this wasn’t it.
“Cassidy?” Clover gently pressed. I clutched her hand trying to escape the panic attack that was about to set in. When I’d told Clover and Issobelle about my true identity and circumstances, Clover had been understanding, whereas Issobelle had stormed out of the restaurant in a fit. Trust was one of her greatest values, and as she’d left, she’d said she felt like she hardly knew me at all.
“I feel like I’m going to throw up. Issobelle should be here,” I said in short breaths. I felt the blood drain from my face and at the sight in the mirror, and Clover ran for a small bin. In a timely manner, I keeled over it, vomiting into the bin as she pushed back my hair. This dress made me feel physically ill. How was I supposed to go through with this if I couldn’t even go through with the dress?
What was more flabbergasting was the woman who’d helped fit me into the dress didn’t even think twice about trying to get the dress off me as I vomited, knowing we’d pay for the expenses anyway.
The wedding had been organized for in a month’s time and I felt like a noose had been tied around my neck, gripping tighter day by day. Clover rubbed my back. “Issobelle will come around, you know she will.” I tried my hardest not to sob into the bin. I felt like I’d lost everything, with no will or direction as to how I could change my course.
“I’d like a moment alone with my daughter, please,” Mom said to Clover by way of asking her to leave. Clover sliced me a wary look. Pathetically, I nodded, unable to possibly bring up anything else. Here I was, sitting in a who knew how expensive designer dress, vomiting into a bin. Had it been another time, I might’ve been elated, and yet this was becoming the worst day of my life.
My mother waited until I downed some water. When I felt stable enough and crossed the room, she patted the spot beside her. I grimaced, surprised that I hadn’t damaged the dress in any way.
“You know your father does what he thinks is best for you, right?” my mother said patiently. Tears sprang to my eyes. I was sick of hearing this. It’d been so consistently rammed into my head that it made it almost inescapable to think otherwise now. “That’s the role of a parent.”
But panic spoke for me instead. Despite my lack of will to fight it anymore, sheer terror was now scratching at my insides. “Mom, I don’t want to do this. Frederick isn’t a good person.”
She nodded and looked at her champagne glass with sudden interest. “You know, I was in love with someone else when my marriage to your father was arranged.”
I sucked in a breath, trying to ease my sharp intakes. I hadn’t been told this before, and it somehow derailed my panic attack. My mother, who often kept to herself, was opening up to me, and I clung to that desperately. “This is the first I’ve ever heard of it.”
“Because some things are best buried away in the past. Are you in love with someone else?” she asked thoughtfully.
Tears welled in my eyes as I thought about Eric, left behind, bandaged and bleeding. How could anyone call that love? What I’d done to him? And yet I’d never felt something more fierce in my being. I thought I knew what love meant, but it wasn’t until I met Eric that I could ever understand its magnitude.
My mother placed her glass to the side. “We’ve been given a very privileged life you and I. And I love your father in my own way. But I’d be lying if I said there weren’t days when I’d wondered how it might’ve been different. And if it had whether I still would’ve had you as my daughter.” I looked up at her, surprised. My mother and I had been closer when I was younger but as the years went by, we’d become distant and cold, mostly because of my father overshadowing everything we did. “Love’s trifle, a lumberjack included.”
My jaw dropped. “You knew where I was?” I asked quietly.
She scoffed. “My darling, never task a man to do a woman’s job. A mother will always find her children. Even before they have to cut off their credit card and cell.” There was slight amusement in her tone. Had she been so daring, she might’ve even given me a wink in that moment.
My bottom lip wobbled. “Why didn’t you tell them where I was?” I’d later found out that it was Coots who accidently gave away my whereabouts. He was working in the neighboring town when Frederick had showed him the photo of me and innocently, he’d given my location. But if my mother had known all along, from the very start, why hadn’t she said anything?
“Was there any need? You’d eventually come back. And I didn’t see the point in stomping out your free spirit a day earlier than necessary.”
Tears dropped down my cheek as I stared at her. Gently and gracefully, she wiped them away. “It’s rare you and I can spend a moment alone like this.” Especially in his older age, my father had grown attached to being by my mother’s side. Tradition being only the women of the family were able to wedding dress shop. “I’d hoped to take this moment to offer you an early wedding gift.”
I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion as she pulled out a little white box. Slowly, I took it. Receiving presents from my parents wasn’t anything new but it was her tone and intent that prickled my skin, indicating this was something different. I opened the box, exposing a shiny gold credit card. “You know, my darling, one thing I’ve always been proud of is your ability to be free spirited and lift others and offer them courage when you don’t even realize you’re doing it.”
Tears continued to spill. “Why are you giving me this?”
My mother uncharacteristically and nonchalantly shrugged. “It’s attached to my allowance account. You’d be surprised how little I use it these days, one might consider there’s an endless stream of funds in there if you need it, wherever you may go… depending on whoever you choose. I’ve paid the accountant a handsome bonus to overlook any withdrawals you might make so it doesn’t alert your father.” She tapped my hand lightly. “Use it whenever you need.”
She went to stand but I grabbed her arm desperately. “Wait, are you telling me I don’t have to go through with this wedding?” I choked desperately.
She cupped my cheek. “I’m telling you to follow your heart, my darling. And don’t begrudge your father. He’s a stubborn man but he only wants the best for you. I’m sorry you ever felt so desperate as to run away from us. And this won’t make amends for that. But perhaps it’ll make your decision easier.”
She pressed a kiss to my cheek and whispered, “And for what it’s worth, I’ve never quite liked Frederick, he seems like a small fish in the pond, wouldn’t you say?” I choked back a small disbelieving laugh.
The wooden doors sprang open, almost smashing one of the nearby vases off its stand. It shook back and forth and Clover dove for it as Issobelle waltzed into the room and pointed a finger at me. “I’m still pissed at you!”
My mother almost choked at her language, but then she shook her head, pretending she didn’t hear it at all. “I’ll let the woman know we’ll buy this dress, since you made such a fine display in it. Do as you want. But choose wisely. And even if you make mistakes… I have a feeling you have those around you who can dig you out.” She eyed Clover and Issobelle up and down as if our conversation had never happened.
“And I don’t like that you’re marrying this douche!” Issobelle exclaimed.
“Issobelle, shh that’s Cassidy’s mother,” Clover reprimanded.
Issobelle stuttered for a moment. “Oh, shit sorry.” She curtsied awkwardly as my mother left the room, shaking her head.
I laughed, a weight easing off me, that chain feeling slightly lighter. I stared down at the card, never more grateful for any piece of plastic in my life. Not because of the things that it could buy me but because of the freedom and understanding my mother offered. To know that I was loved and not some bargaining chip. That deep down, they cared—genuinely. Even if they were rigid in their thinking and beliefs, my mother gave me a choice without consequence of disappointing my family or being completely disowned. Had I hated them, it might’ve not been so bad. But I still clung to them, unable to leave them behind, which is why I found myself standing in this hideous wedding dress.
I lunged for Issobelle, hugging her tightly.
“I’m still mad!” She stomped a foot. Clover laughed, walking around to hug us both.
“Cassidy, if I’m being honest… I hate that dress,” Clover admitted.
I laughed, tears streaming down my face. And despite the fact that my mother had gone up to purchase it, I said with a small smile, “I can’t stand it either.”
And slowly, I felt like the first piece was glued back together. A small glimmer of hope breaking through. My fairy tale might’ve not turn out how I’d imagined but at least I wasn’t being forced into marrying a frog anymore.