Chapter 8
Francesca
Finally, Eve's eyes rose to mine. “Who did this to you?” she asked in a barely there voice. Gone was the happy, cute, fun-loving woman who'd been here a moment ago. And she was replaced with a stone-cold fierceness that frightened even me.
I shook my head and laughed nervously. “Oh, no one.
I just had a fall a while ago. I'm clumsy. What can I say?” I shrugged my shoulders and turned around to the dress, hoping she'd give up on this and accept my pathetic excuse.
“Where did you get this dress?” I asked, feeling stupid for not wondering why Giselle would have a long white gown in her closet.
“Honey,” Giselle's hands landed on my arms. “Hey, talk to us for a minute.” She rubbed softly up and down my arms. “Tell us what happened.” Her voice was so calm and lovely. It wrapped around me like a warm hug.
I tried to shake off her hands. “I'm fine. Just a stupid fall. Like I said.” My words rushed out like they were in some kind of race with each other.
My heart was beating like crazy inside my bruised ribs.
And I wished like heck these women would let me cover up with something.
I felt even more naked than I already was.
“Francesca. Come on.” Giselle hugged me from behind, her head softly leaning on my shoulder. “You can tell us.”
I reluctantly set my hands on hers at my belly. “I appreciate your concern. Really, I do. But I'm okay. There's nothing to tell.” For some reason, my voice hitched on the last few words. And I felt an emotion rise up in me that I didn't recognize—that I couldn't name.
Giselle let out a loud sigh. “Are you in pain? Please tell us that at least. Do you need to see a doctor?” Her hands ended up on my shoulders, and she turned me to her. “Are you hurting?” Her eyes were filled with tears.
And those tears seemed to disarm me.
Completely.
I didn't want to tell her what had happened. That one of Raul's goons had beaten me and tried to rape me.
But I also didn't want to lie to her.
Or to Eve.
I shook my head. “No, I'm almost healed. There's nothing they can do for broken ribs, anyway.”
Whoops.
As soon as I said those words, I instantly wished I could shove them back in.
Giselle's eyes closed, and tears streamed down her cheeks. Her head fell forward. And then—her arms wrapped around me.
“We're so sorry this happened to you,” Giselle whispered into my ear as she continued holding me. “We know how it feels.” She sniffled and kissed my shoulder.
Eve came up behind me and hugged me. She choppily exhaled and said, “We do. We know.”
And in that moment, I felt like maybe—just maybe—they did. Even though I didn't know how that could be possible. They were both rich, beautiful, high-class women. I doubted they'd ever been in a situation like I had.
Even so—I let myself accept their care.
“Are you one hundred percent sure that you don't need a doctor?” Eve asked.
I vigorously shook my head. “No, no. Of course not.”
“Are you certain? We can have one here in an hour.” Eve rubbed my back.
Giselle piped in, “She's a nurse. She'd know if she needed help or not.”
I didn't bother correcting her about my trade. Now was not the time. And besides, it didn’t really matter.
Eve let go of me and wiped her eyes. “We're taking you at your word on this. But at any time, if you feel like you need a doctor, you'll tell us. Right?”
Giselle let go of me, too, and stood beside Eve.
She put her arm around her friend's shoulders.
“It's her wedding day. Or night, I guess.” She smiled through her tears.
“She said she doesn't need a doctor. So she doesn't need a doctor.
The dress will cover the bruises. We're good to go. I can put a soft layer of cotton around your ribs if that will help? Okay? Now, try this on. I might have to make a few adjustments.”
They both stepped into action and started helping me into the gorgeous dress.
“Where did you get this?” I asked as they slipped it over me.
“Giselle made it,” Eve answered. “She's been working on it for months.”
Giselle smiled. “I finished it last week. Just in time. Apparently.”
My head swam with that information. “I don't understand. Who did you make this for?”
She started lacing up the back. “I made it for myself. Hopefully, once this baby's out, I'll actually fit into it.”
Eve was on her knees, straightening out the layers of the skirt. “You will. If Carlo stops knocking you up, that is.” She smiled up at me and laughed.
I turned my head around and asked, “I thought you and Carlo were already married.”
She touched her belly. “Not yet. This one was a surprise. And the timing just wasn't all that great after the twins were born. It was a lot.” She smiled at me, but I felt like there was something more behind that grin than she was letting on. But even if there was—it wasn't any of my business.
And then, something suddenly dawned on me. “Oh, my gosh,” I gasped and clutched the skirt. “I can't wear this.”
Giselle stepped around and frowned at me. “Why not? Don't you like it?” Her face scrunched up as she looked me up and down.
I swallowed and gestured to the dress. “I love it. But it's—your—dress. Not mine.”
Giselle's face relaxed as she smirked. “It's fine, honey.
I won't need it for a while yet. You're more than welcome to wear it tonight.” Her eyes fell to my breasts.
“It fits you perfectly. We have the same figure.” Her eyes dropped down to my waist and then to the long skirt. “When I'm not pregnant, I mean.”
Eve stood and put her hands on her hips. “It's perfect. Isn't she a beautiful bride? Oh, hang on a second.” Eve ran to the vanity and grabbed something off it. “Turn slightly to the right.” She held up her phone to take a picture of me.
“Wait. Let me grab the veil. I can't believe I forgot it.” She hurried out the bedroom door, being careful to close it behind her.
In the meantime, Eve took picture after picture of me.
I didn't have the heart to tell her there was no point to it.
Because this wasn't a real wedding. I didn't need pictures of it.
And I was sure Stefan wouldn't want any, either.
But I felt like I'd hurt her feelings if I asked her to stop.
Besides, photos could always be deleted.
Giselle came barreling back into the room, a long delicate veil in her hands—as well as a white pair of shoes.
“Got it!” She stopped in front of me and dropped the shoes on the floor.
Then she spread the veil out. Very carefully, she slid it onto my head, using pins to secure it.
She fluffed the veil out a bit and sighed.
“Francesca, you were born to be a bride.”
I felt my eyes start to water. Which was goofy. I wasn't a bride. Not a real one. This was all for show. All so I could get myself out of this stupid mess.
But at that moment, with Giselle looking at me like she believed what she'd just said—I felt like a beautiful bride.
Giselle gave me a quick hug. “I can't wait for Stefan to see you.” When she let go of me, her eyes widened.
“Hold on.” She touched her fingers one by one, counting off a list as she spoke.
“Something old is the shoes—” she gazed down at them on the floor.
Even nodded and crouched down to help me on with them.
“Something new is the thong.” She grinned and giggled.
“You can keep that.” She ticked off another item on her fingers.
“Something borrowed is my dress.” Her eyes gazed at my bodice.
“And something blue is—” Giselle was about to say something and then closed her mouth and swallowed.
“Um, that will—uh, come later.” Then she gasped and clutched her hands together. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”
But a second later, she shut her eyes together and sighed loudly. “I can’t believe I forgot them. Omigosh. Where is my head?” Then she was rushing off and out the door again.
Eve giggled softly and smiled at me. “Pregnancy brain,” she whispered. “It’s a real thing. Trust me.” Before she finished shrugging, Giselle was back with a gorgeous bouquet of white roses in her hand. The stems were wrapped together with a decadent white ribbon.
Out of breath completely, she handed them to me. “Here you go,” she practically wheezed. “I bought them yesterday. Thank goodness. Who’d have guessed I’d be making them into a wedding bouquet for you tonight?” Giselle hugged me again.
Eve joined us, and turned it into a group hug. Surprisingly—it wasn't even a little bit awkward. Especially considering the fact that we barely knew each other. But I felt comfortable with these women now. At least at the moment.
“Quick selfie time.” Eve held up her phone, and we all squeezed in for a picture. Or five.
Then Giselle announced, “Okay, we need to get ready.” She raised her eyebrows at her friend. “And we’d better hurry. Before the men come up and carry us downstairs.” We all laughed, and Eve took yet another picture.
But this one I was surprisingly okay with.