Chapter 13: Final Fitting

Shayla was fifteen minutes late, which she meant as a gift to me.

She came in at 10:15 on Tuesday morning in a camel coat with the collar up and Clint behind her, carrying her purse.

"Morning, ladies," she sang. "The bride is here."

Bonnie, at the cutting table, put her shears down very carefully.

"I'm going to be so professional," she said to me under her breath. "Watch me be professional."

Two brides were on the bench by the window, waiting for their own fittings.

One of them was the mermaid from October.

"Clint, sit," Shayla said, and pointed at the armchair by the three-way mirror. "That's the groom's chair."

He sat.

He didn't look at me once.

Shayla took the gown into the fitting room and pulled the velvet curtain only halfway.

"Edie, honey, I'll need you in here for the hooks."

I went in.

She was already out of her coat and sweater, standing in her bra with her back to me.

Her phone was propped on my daybed, recording.

On her left hand was the Meade ring.

The old emerald-cut diamond was back on her finger.

"Hugh's lawyer sent me a letter about that," she said, catching me looking. "I framed it."

I lifted the gown over her head.

Ivory silk came down over her in a long cool rush.

I closed the hooks up her back, one by one.

At the waist, the last three wouldn't meet.

They missed by an inch.

I stood there with the two edges in my fingers and didn't say anything.

Shayla looked at me in the mirror and smiled.

"That's the baby," she said. "Let it out."

"There's half an inch in the seam allowance."

"Then find more. You're the best in Tacoma. Mrs. Meade said so." She raised her voice for the room. "Isn't that right, Clint? I'm showing."

Keep reading free with an account. Start My Fiancé Chose His Ex, So I Chose Myself from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.