Chapter 2

Yvonne's expression kept changing as she looked to Jason for help.

Jason was barely holding back his anger. He stepped in front of Yvonne, shielding her from me.

"Wendy, what's wrong with you today? Is it just pre-wedding nerves? Yvonne's your bridesmaid. Why are you giving her such a hard time?" Jason said sharply.

Giving her a hard time?

Watching Jason instinctively stand up for Yvonne, I felt sick.

It felt like a boulder was pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

"Jason, move away," I said, my voice trembling. I couldn't tell if it was anger or heartbreak that was making me shake.

"I'm not moving. If you want to lose it, do it at your own place. Don't embarrass yourself here," Jason snapped.

Embarrassing myself?

He thought I was embarrassing myself?

I let out a sarcastic laugh, but tears betrayed me and started to fall.

We'd been together for years, from college all the way into adult life. I had always believed we were each other's anchor.

But now, just because of another woman, he was throwing such cruel words at me.

"Alright, so good," I said, nodding again and again, my voice trembling with fury. I jabbed a finger at the wedding dress. "If she doesn't wear it today, then this wedding is off."

As soon as I said it, the whole bridal shop fell into a deathly silence.

Jason's face went ghostly pale.

He never expected me, the one who'd always been so gentle, to say something so ruthless.

Yvonne panicked, too. She tugged at Jason's sleeve, her voice shaky and on the verge of tears. "Jason, it's all my fault. I shouldn't have come. Please don't be upset, Wendy. I... I'll put it on, okay?"

Saying that, she shuffled over to the wedding dress, looking scared and helpless.

Her self-sacrificing act made it look like I was the crazy, evil one causing all the trouble.

Jason's eyes were full of pity for her, and then he shot me a look like he wanted to eat me alive.

Jason spat, "Wendy, you'll regret this."

I ignored his threat and just stared Yvonne down with unwavering intensity.

I watched in silence as Yvonne walked into the fitting room, the door slowly closing behind her.

My heart was racing, my palms clammy with cold sweat.

I was taking a gamble.

I was betting everything on the truth, the kind that would finally break me and make me let go for good.

Time dragged on, every second feeling like an eternity.

Finally, the fitting room door opened.

Yvonne stepped out.

As soon as she appeared, everyone in the room gasped.

The wedding dress I could never squeeze into now fit Yvonne like it was made for her.

It fit her like it was custom-made, hugging every curve, from the bust to the waist, even the hem fell at the perfect length.

She stood there with her head lowered, hands twisted together in front of her, looking like a frightened little fawn.

Under the lights, she was stunning.

And the irony of it all was enough to shatter my heart.

The truth was right there, naked and impossible to ignore.

It was never a sizing issue, and it sure wasn't about me being too big for it.

This wedding dress was never meant for me, not from the very beginning.

Jason just stood there, frozen.

The way he looked at her, completely mesmerized and obsessed, was so obvious that he didn't even try to hide it.

I felt my whole world come crashing down in that instant.

Turned out, those three months of starving myself were all for nothing, just so I could try to fit into a wedding dress custom-made for someone else.

The wedding I'd looked forward to with all my heart was nothing but a cruel joke from beginning to end.

I glanced between Jason and Yvonne, my heart sinking.

Yvonne was wearing the wedding dress that was meant for me, while Jason couldn't tear his eyes away from her, utterly captivated.

Suddenly, it hit me that I was the extra one here, the out-of-place bridesmaid who didn't belong at all.

"Does it look good?" I asked, my voice so raw that it barely sounded like my own.

Jason snapped back to reality and glanced at me, his eyes avoiding mine, panic written all over his face.

He stammered, "Wendy, just listen to me. It's not what you think-"

"Really? Not what I think?" I cut him off with a cold laugh. "Was it the shop that screwed up, or was it my body that's the problem? Jason, look me in the eye and tell me, who was this dress made for?"

Jason opened his mouth, but not a single word came out.

His silence was all the answer I needed.

Yvonne's tears just wouldn't stop, falling one after another.

"I'm sorry, Wendy. I swear I didn't know it would end up like this. Jason just... He just wanted to give me a surprise..." Yvonne choked out between sobs.

A surprise?

Her wearing my wedding dress was supposed to be a surprise?

That was the biggest joke I'd ever heard in my life.

"So, your so-called surprise was to go behind my back, use my name, and have a wedding dress custom-made for your best female friend?" I turned to Jason, my heart frozen solid.

"I..." Jason's face was getting sullener by the second. "I just thought Yvonne would look amazing in this dress, so... I went ahead and had one custom-made for her as well, using your name. Figured it could be a gift."

"A gift?" I scoffed, half laughing, half furious. "Who gives someone a wedding dress as a gift? Jason, do you think I'm an idiot or something?"

"I'm not lying to you! Wendy, can you stop being so damn unreasonable?" Jason shot back, his anger flaring. "You know what Yvonne and I are to each other.

"We're best friends, like family. What's wrong with me giving her a dress? Do you really have to blow this up and make such a scene?"

Family? Watching him act all self-righteous, I suddenly felt exhausted to the bone.

There was no point in arguing anymore.

When a man started preaching about how "pure" his friendship was with another woman, there was nothing left to say.

I kicked off my heels and strode toward them barefoot, every step heavy with resolve.

I stared at the white wedding dress clinging to Yvonne, its fabric still holding the last traces of the happiness I'd once imagined for myself.

Then, I seized the hem of the dress and yanked hard.

The sound of tearing fabric cut through the silence of the bridal shop like a knife.