Clara
The bridal boutique Sophie had chosen occupied a quiet, elegant space downtown, the kind of place that required appointments scheduled months in advance, though apparently a Kingsley family recommendation moved things considerably faster than the usual waiting list suggested.
"I still can't quite believe this is happening," I admitted, standing in front of a three-way mirror while a patient consultant adjusted the third dress I'd tried that afternoon. "A year ago, I was standing in a similar boutique, choosing a dress for a wedding I didn't actually want."
Eleanor, seated on the small velvet couch reserved for family and close friends, reached for my hand with the particular warmth she'd shown me since the day of my engagement. "This time is different," she said gently. "This time
