My Dress, Her Fitting

Synopsis

Only ten days remained until my wedding to Andrew Sullivan. I pushed open the fitting room door. Andrew was bent over, fastening the back chain of Charlotte Evans' dress. She was wearing my wedding gown, the very one I'd made the final payment on only yesterday, the one I'd planned to wear to marry him in ten days. A shop assistant stood nearby, smiling and gushing over the neckline, saying the dress looked tailor-made for Charlotte. Charlotte had walked in with Andrew, and the staff had obviously taken them for the engaged couple here for a fitting. I stood in the doorway, my own veil still pinned in my hair, my fingers tightening slowly. The photographer shooting my fitting froze mid-shot, unsure who to focus on. Charlotte caught my gaze in the mirror. As if suddenly remembering I was there, she quickly lifted a hand to cover the lace across her chest. "Natalie Grant, don't misunderstand." Her voice was soft, almost innocently gentle. "I commented on how lovely this dress was and wanted to try it on. Andrew said..." "She's never worn a wedding gown before." Andrew straightened and finished her sentence for her, his tone as calm as if this were nothing at all. "What harm is there in letting her try it?"